darkness

just spent several hours reading 'man and wife' by tony parsons. and now i wonder if i shouldn't have read it. there is a sadness to that book- despite the dry, pointed jokes (mostly about gender roles and sex). its about this guy, harry silver, a tv producer, who's into his second marriage. but the first marriage doesn't really end-- not while his ex-wife has custody over his son, whom he loves and tries desperately to keep by his side-- because every decision his wife makes about his son's life, like migrating across the atlantic ocean, turns his life around still. his current wife, cyd, has a snotty little daughter, peggy, whom he is a step-dad to. so they co-exist in this blended family. its about sadness of things past which leave an inerasible mark on you, about the sting of past relationships that doesn't release its hold, about struggling to balance life's commitments, giving in to temptations to cheat, about layered relationships- because a new wife means that woman you used to love is now your ex-wife, your new wife's daughter makes you a step-dad, and your ex-wife's new family makes you a distanced father (from a different family) to your son. 

i remember one part which said. 

step-dads try to make their kids like them, real dads don't have to try. they can scold their children for their misdeeds, and the kids love them anyway.

because every child wants to love their parents, regardless of whether or not they deserve it.

sort of gives a more human take to the victimized 'evil step-mother's struggle.

i think i should try to read more christian books, and if i want to indulge in fiction books, they shouldn't be about real-life. i mean, movies, books and art- they are all a kind of escape into another world right? why would i want to read or see something which reinforces the sadness and dilemmas i know exist in this world?  they just fill me with a more pessimistic view about life, which isn't healthy. 

like why do men have to cheat on their wives and partners? (the book makes it seem natural; and justifies it as a 'right to romance'.)

like why did the generation of couples like our grandparents- who married when they just turned 20 and stayed together, faithful and in love, until they died- dissipate and become a rarity?

when did 'purity' and 'faithfulness' become derogatory terms? 

why does every single female magazine have the word 'sex' printed bold on its cover?

everywhere i turn, in the movies, in books, even when i was studying the history of western architecture-- sexual promiscuity is indulged in, thought about, caught on camera, written about in books, celebrated, almost-- 

its disturbing, its overwhelming. i think thats why i'd rather read a book about fairies and watch old school disney cartoons- and stick to christian books--

because eyes are the light of your soul, 

and if the light in you is darkness, how great is that darkness.

true for any vice:

alcohol gives you wings to fly,

then it takes away the sky. 

-from parson's book.

the (importance) of being busy

sitting here again. writing has become unfamiliar terrain. i think i do appreciate the lone, long mrt rides to church.. like a friend said, 'its a meditative time'; time to observe external events, and search out internal trajectories of thought. more often than not i catch myself dreaming up bizarre scenarios; my mind on its own vacation of impossible dreams, or recounting past arguments and implanting my artificial self in there again, wishing i'd said this or that, or just revisiting in detail the starkest moments in my life. all that while the train whizzes through, a parallel stream. like what virginia woolf terms the 'stream of consciousness'. things we vaguely become aware of, that just as quickly filter out of our thoughts to make space for new ones; an endless stream of little leaps in space, from one pebble off tangent to the next in skipping, gurgling water. touch and go. touch and go. 

because when we dwell, well.. thats when we all go 'emo', isnt it?

its a rare saturday to myself. the past week has been fine; just been thinking about what's important in life, thinking about how it seems im at a stage where friends start to drop out of my life; not intentionally perhaps, for most, but all these losses just drift into being. the absence becomes a tangible thing. you know how it goes. we all get busy. 

more than anything else, time is an investment. its deliberate, and its risky. because it extracts so much from you. because you risk being vulnerable letting people in, you risk being spent. its a commodity; where resources placed in one area means an opportunity loss in another priority. sometimes it reaps returns, sometimes. but not always. 

how did we get to be so busy? i'm inclined to think - busyness comes with speed.

just picture this. we are alive in abraham's time. every meeting is arranged months before, by sending a messenger, bearing gifts laden on camels. the day has come. packing up our cloths and bags, we tie up the gifts and secure the saddling cloth on the camels' backs. say our goodbye. we travel on camel and by foot, with the warm desert air blowing up curls of sand beneath our feet. it is silent, all we hear is the light, rhythmic crust of camel hooves on sand. ccch cchh cch cchh. the sky begins to darken, and we look for a safe node to construct our temporary shelter for the night. resting on his back, with his  hands cradling his head, he looks up into the darkness of the land, faintly lit by distant stars. nothing breaks the hush that hangs heavily, presses in closely, throughout the darkness. nothing approaches, except the lulling effect of sleep.

---

i'm tempted to continue the narrative; but the point is clear. its hard to be busy when the limiting speed does not allow you to be. when meeting a friend spans days and nights of travel. when job's comforters waited with him 7 whole days, without saying a single word; the prolonged silence of grief. 

---

its 8am. the alarm goes off in a screeching high-pitch. you groan in your sleep and pull the blanket over your ears. your door starts knocking, 'wake up!! you'll be late!' the light flashes on, uncomfortably alien. glaring. aaurgh. just five minutes more. just outside your window, the hum of a car's engine, waiting for its passenger. the click of the door opening and the bang of its closure. you shuffle out of bed and gasp at the time. grabbing your pile of clothes, you get dressed and leave the house in a rush, refusing breakfast. the shuffle of the dense morning crowd, the packing of oneself into the multitude of the train. the electronic tones signalling the approach of the train, the voice that greets all commuters in polite english, chinese, tamil and malay. please keep behind the yellow line. the grate of trains grinding to a halt. excuse me, excuse me. get out of my way! irritated tsks. the heavy mix of scents; perfume, hair wax, oils, someone's charkwayteow breakfast, more shuffling. phone calls, more electronic tones from handphone games, flipping of the newspaper. cars horning, sharp clogging clicks of high heels on tiled floors. first call of the morning. whirr of the photocopy machine. boss drops a stack of files on your desk. the start up sounds of your desktop. bleeping sounds from your online messenger. flood of emails, again. lunch appointment. filing. meeting to be arranged. calls for rescheduling. colleagues laughing in the pantry. come on now, i need that document! wheres that stupid stapler? who's got it? i thought i left it there. no, it's not! come on guys, lets try to be more organized. who left this here?? general buzz of annoyance. efficiency thwarted. just a typical routine morning in a typical week of an ordinary month.

---

so what's your morning like? 

so what's important?

manufacturing men

said of london during the industrial revolution,

'we manufacture everything there except men.'

'we blanch cotton, strengthen steel, refine sugar and shape pottery; but to brighten, to strengthen, to refine, or to form a single living spirit, never enters into our estimate of advantages.'
- john ruskin.


its a little strange reading about when capitalism just kickstarted and got birthed, now that we're in these financial fritters. the whole basis of capitalism is self-interest, and it worked really well for all of us, who were wise enough to know that we were all selfish, naturally. selfishness was the reason why communism would never work out, it was the reason why capitalism would. or would it?

the meltdown we have on our hands now is perhaps an indication that operating in self-interest doesn't always work out for everybody eventually. there comes a point where self-interest is garnered at the expense of another, and the accumulation of self-interests is the negation of the self, eventually.

still, capitalism is the only system that would work on earth, and, only if we still needed money in heaven (assuming there isn't the snap your finger and pink ice cream appears option), then absolute communism under the system of theocracy would be perrfect! ideally, the christian community in acts2 already practised a kind of communism in a small satellite fashion, i suppose if churches started really sharing and disregarding the value of money for ourselves, sold what we had and shared and gave as we had need, wouldn't that be nice? and so undemocratic and uncapitalist and unconsumerist? now, that sounds really absurd, but absurdity is the name of the game when our minds are 'renewed' ie. unhinged from former biases and existing doorframes of thought.

*all for theocracy.

*need to redo this blog. black and white. and... maybe more words?

b- is- for

go live in the book.

breaking the silence. i've been so used to not coming online, not communicating, not writing. hmm. things have really caught up with me these three weeks, doing internship at a...well, interesting, architectural firm. name of which i shall not mention to avoid being lined up and shot.

these days ive been thinking alot about work. about what motivates people to work- to whether it is ever possible to completely love your job, whether it is possible to be a boss that your subordinates love, to being a submissive subordinate like the bible tells us to be, to subordinates who gossip non stop about their bosses ( i mean, you only have one common enemy to unite em all) ... to the biblical perspective of work, to whether architecture is what i want to do for 30 years of my life before i retire. i long for work to be fulfilling, to be engaging, to be fun and peaceful-- but very often what the world washes up is the stench of work, spat out from an entire lineage of occupational forefathers who have trodden the same path, done the same things, been tired the same way, quit/retired the same. the same. the same. what i dislike most about work is the feeling that someone is constantly watching you, assessing you, holding up standards which you must keep jumping to reach. like a cat for a ball of yarn, jumping endlessly, and yet each time you jump the ball unravels and the end gets further away from you.

so anyways, enough griping. ive been with doctor for ten months! sounds kinda long, thinking of it. 2 months to a year. two weeks to a birthday! other changes in life? ive adopted amanda heng/shuyu's girls for a month while shu is off to fran-say for further stah-day. im glad all the girls are blending quite well together, us and theirs--now a big OURS. gerry and i are also still very happy with each other :) and uhm. my family has been recovering from our last setback and getting closer. so Thank God for all of that. ive gained friends, and lost some, and ive grown used to this flux-- this expansion and reduction. i thank Him for those who remain, as well as those who've left. each have and had a part in influencing the way i turned out, and i would hope it is a mutual good thing. church camp planning for december is on the way! honkhonk is always good to work with, and tessa and hannah are also happifying presences. joshua and joseph are stable and represent the male half of TNG, while uncle jeff adds direction as our...director. And whenever we are falling off to sleep... and need a little help! (i wont say in which direction), we have our very own kaifeng. haha.

so... my buddies of bloggywood, alls well with the world. my aim for the coming months is to eradicate moodiness, and to push myself to understand the field of architecture, to expose myself to it, and possibly and prayerfully, to excel. i just cant sway along in the tide of monday-thursday studio sessions and expect to get very far in the fickle tide. i need to propel forward, somehow, to set a direction and work at it. so come on felicia. stop being a bum.

cloud. congealing of sticky moisture drops, brushing lightly off the skin.

rain

in australia it was raining very hard, and we were stuck within the underwaterworld building. it rained so hard, for so long, and we just sat in there, staring out through the glass walls into the wet, paved outdoors, where people were struggling with upturned umbrellas, running, others walking sternly upright and deliberately slowly, reluctant to show any trace of cowardice.

we waited, isolated from the thick curtain of rain. and i typed these words into my phone.

'a blank white cloud falling densely around us like a cloak,
obliterating everything in sight.
a visual relief from excess.'

buffet

sometimes words come to me in volumes, voraciously digesting licking up the page.
but not all the food in a buffet spread is good.
there is the rare, minute entre,

and the rest is just bloat.

snippets

from august01,2006

in the crowd of the foreign,
in the elbow jostle of pressing heat
in the hushed singleness beneath the hum of activity,
where faces peer in the window, but no one knocks at the door,
i only wish, on an eyelash,
not to be crushed.

--
reading old entries revive a desire in me to spill my words out as if on a blank page, to capture emotion fresh and raw and express them as they were, without pasteurization and culturing, the bacterium nature of those words, here.

submission is in three days, and my motivation has not come. i must find it somewhere within myself, or somewhere in the ideas from my Maker. you know, the cross is not a gift from God, it is a gift OF God. which, is a gift itself, the gift of Himself.

like a gift of apples would be, well, apples!

i don't like dreams, they scare me. although i had a funny one last night, about a church camp. guess who won the most good looking and sexiest award! i dunno also, the dream didnt last til the prize presentation.

birthday wishes

hello friends. a few of you have asked me what i would like to have for my birthday, and, honestly, i haven't thought about it! But then you say it'll be a whole lot easier if i could just SAY it and you could just GET it and there would be an ideal match between producer and consumer to achieve IDEAL supply-demand intersection- and maximize satisfaction for you and i! haha. what a perfect world.

so i will try. (all i want for birthday is my.. two front teeth!) (hmm.)
1. ok... this is hard.. ahah!

1. an English Standard Version bible? (siah la, later i say here i get 3 of the same thing, then how?!)

one down!

2. err, shoes? flats? those kind i can wear to school easily. Currently i have two pairs of flats, and they both stink. Er, okay... you didnt know that. Ask me bout the size!

3. the PERFECT shade of creamy light natural pink nailpolish. But let me forewarn you that i have tried looking for those since last May, and.. they're still on this I Want! list in March 2008. haha.

actually, i think im a normal hormonal total local (what else rhymes!) haha kind of girl. So girly stuff (NOT PINK!! except the nail polish.) like... clothes, bags, perfume, shoes, belts, clothes (oops. i mentioned that already) would be good! BUT i know... that everytime you buy a mother's day gift you hear the same things, and you still never know what to get. okay, felicia. break it down. you know one of the reasons why i kinda hate writing this? I feel so narcissistic!! oh gosh. help.

4. bags. can fit A4 size, medium brown with burnished gold zips/details= no bright gold zip! saw a nice one from charles n keith actually. i have this perfect one in my head, which i can never quite find in the shops. haha. maybe im too fussy huh. oh dear. dont worry i shall be more embracing! 'ohh, you preetty little thing :)'

5. printed long A-line skirt?

6. Beyond Paradise perfume / Lolita Lempicka perfume / Clinique Simply perfume

7. A nice necklace?

8. cuff bracelets? the golden a little chunky bangle kind, not the frilly fragile ones i know i will break in like 2 days.

9. dark denim jeans. but honestly.. not wise to buy this unless u ask me to try it first

10. books! those that win the pulitzer prize/ booker prize are normally good. architecture books! invisible cities/ something with many pretty pictures. heh.

haha alrighty. ten is a good place to stop. unless its..

Eleven! anything you put thought to will be appreciated! anything outside this list, anything i can use is well, useful, and so! A BIG THANK YOU :D thank you friends, will get the invites out soooon!

--------

29th March, Saturday
630 - 11pm
Faber Crest Condominium, Function Room

---------

How to get there:
1. From clementi mrt, (taxi stand outside where Macdonalds used to be) white shuttle bus comes at 6.45pm, 7.15pm and 7.45pm. (last bus)

2. From clementi mrt, take a cab, and tell uncle ' Jalan Lempeng, Faber Heights.'
Shouldn't cost you more than $4.

Stop at the guard entrance, turn right and you'll see the clubhouse. Where you'll find us!

If in doubt, call me!

xo. feli

p.s. Please rsvp by 23rd March, as i will be catering food per head. :) thanks.

moment flashes

there are some blogs which make you happy. there is an air of ease about them- honest, alive, quirky, moving, poignant, inspiring. and there are others who try very hard to be happy, that try very hard to impress, that are cluttered with 'what i did today so read all about me' -

and i guess i can't make up my mind why i blog, still.
i cant decide if i blog to conceal or to reveal.

i think if i didn't know Jesus i'd be a depressed kid.
haha. i always thought of life as a kind of masquerade,
and people as a whole lot of layers compressed into moments-
because i can never truly get into someone else's head and see life through it
i can never feel the emotion they are trying to describe,
or recollect the memories that shape the fibres of their character.

i can only piece a moving picture from the snippets of people i know
i can only know you through flashes, through moments,
through the glances, slits of daylight, the smile of amusement, the laughter
of jokes, which is different from the laughter of deep familiarity,

and the in-between is filled with a lot of assumptions, of attempts
to scrape beneath the surface.

blur vs. being.

trying to concoct a memorable phrase,
stringing words together in a delicate fashion
is difficult.

because most days i feel like i haven't got much to say
and other days i'm more caught up with doing
than stopping, to reflect.
most days are a blur,
and i always thought of meditation
as those times when we stand still,

letting things spin and whirl around us.
so that God, from heaven,
looks down and sees us,
still, quiet, waiting

rather than a blur of speed and noise,
of excess and confusion.

so wait.

stop.

breathe.

maybe then we'll see
what we were meant to be.

let the magnitude of the cross
be realised in me.

furnace. +you

just feel like this is one of the modes to dwindle myself upon when i am reluctant to do anything else.
i should be working now.
i should be happy..?
i should be motivated.
i should feel like i have friends who can fully understand me, and whom i can count on.

why does it seem like all the natural orders of things- the should-bes of things, are all falling apart?

its been a rollercoaster of a day
the essential question on my mind being,
am i happy? are you happy?
but happiness is not something you can grasp so tightly to
because the moment you do, it collapses on itself like a
worn, old fabric, and disintegrates.
there are so many challenges to happiness-
and so the brave face of happiness is always 'In Spite Of'


skin sore, red, with the sting of
salt, acrid, raw.
no more wiping it off,
no more scratching the itch,
or it will show-
through the thinly veiled smile,
that trembles before it breaks into tears,
it will show.

it is strangely liberating to realise
that it is nobody's job to make you happy.
happiness is self-taught, and self-appreciated-
like the tasting of wine, gently savoured.

there may be instances where persons come along
and light up your life,
but those are bonuses, not rights, not privileges
and once you stop expecting,
perhaps, then, you will stop hurting.

but all this talk is on the axis of man;
christians are always concerned about the vertical dimension,
and should be. too.
smile, though your heart is breaking
smile, even though you're aching
used to be purvis' favourite song, he'd sing it during lit class

funny how the most bitter of my teachers, the most atheist,
would have the most enduring impact on me.
when it crumbles and your eyes dissolve in the blur,
rejoice in the Lord.
rejoice, an act of will. rejoice, even when your hormonal
imbalances threaten to discolour your world with innacuracies.

you, i cant say how much i appreciate your support
especially when it comes at the most critical points
you seem to know, and understand
even if i dont tell you. and you really are one of
my best friends in the world, as well.

you, i dont know how we drifted apart,
and i doubt you will even visit here actually, but part
of me wishes i never let the crack first occur
unwatched, unmended- because i really wish
there were no such things as cats or rats- like in genesis,
when the lions ate grass and all were friends.

you, i dont know if you think i take you for granted
but i really hope you dont. because you are so, so important
in my life, the constant source of stability and trust
someone who never fails, someone wise, giving, comforting.
i didnt mean that the date of departure was unimportant, it
came out rather wrong;
i simply meant that its not something i'd want to remember
because it is just nice to know that you are close by
and i am reluctant for that to change.

you, seem to be with me through it all, through the highs and the lows
and youre right, we're not the heeimissyousweetiepie kinda friends
and im glad we arent, because the sweet stuff in friendships
arent laced on the outside thick like artificial icky icing, (no offence,hah)
which most people swipe off on their napkins
but it is a deeper essence, like a fragrant aroma, or a delectable faint
tingle of the tongue. i'd like to think we are friends that way.

you, i would like to make you happy. you, whom i think i love, and would
like to know how to love more. sometimes it is not the special days, socially manufactured,
candy-coloured that i deeply appreciate, it is all the in-between days where
i get glimpses into how happy we can be. all the other slits in between, those
empty or cutting, i try to forget, always thinking that the closer a thing gets
to the heart, the deeper it drives, and the more potential to cut. like an electric
blade, skinning off the artificial waxy sheen of green apples, which we both like,
glinting, faster, slicing closer to the heart of the matter. and occasionally the
shave causes you to bleed. there are definitely better days than these,
you and i both know. i am praying for more of those; because i think you know,
you figure so much in my prayers and thoughts.

and you, the divine, who holds everything together.
apart from your hand, pulling me up, taking me in,
i would scarcely stay together. i rest in you, now. hush.

i am better acquainted now with weakness than with strength
with sorrow, too, perhaps?
i dont like being a melancholy sort, and would try not to be
but sometimes my many faces impinge upon me,
and are too variant with circumstances-
it is time for constancy, for solidity, for peace.
not the waffling kind of innocence, unchallenged and unspoilt,
but the supple kind, tested, thawed, trialled, and
victorious.

tomyam affair

cant believe im actually here! after such a long hiatus. haha.

i hope for the day the parts will become whole, because everything in our lives, every branch of knowledge is a fragment thats part of a larger cosmic whole. i want to see how things fit together in their jigsaw custom-fit edges, i want to see and understand and go WOW God youre so brilliant! and suddenly everything that i ever tasted, experienced, sweated through, ploughed through, thought about, will become crystal.

biology, design, physics, housework, friendships, heartpains, symbols, histories, religions, truth, architecture, technology, nature- is it ever possible to conceive of them as same threads of a common web, which He alone holds together? nothing you ever do can shake you out of his perfect plan for your life.

im sitting at the desktop in school now, pretty much alone in studio, waiting for dad to pick me up. had interim crit today so im kinda brain blurred, my eyes are fuzzy and dry, but im thankful that it went well today. so thankful, that God allows me to pull through every single time even when it seems bleakest and most impossible. now this looks like a scene from a sappy translated korean drama haha. NO!

i got scolded by the fish soup auntie at the canteen while buying dinner today. okay, the auntie at the stall called Uncle Soup. go figure. its quite hilarious actually.
i asked her for TomYam Fish Porridge.
cos i normally get Sliced Fish Porridge? which happens to be 30cents cheaper than Sliced Fish Soup+Rice, (which essentially is just the rice in a plastic bag instead of the soup; so i figure, why pay to dump the rice in the soup myself?)
and she scolded me:
'mei you tom yam yu zhou la!' (no tomyam fish porridge la!- for you chinese infidels)
wo mai tomyam yi jin zhuan bu dao qian le la. hai yao tom yam zhou!
( i already dont make money selling tomyam soup already la, still ask for tomyam porridge!)
and i was taken aback cos the verbal assault was in chinese, i was defenceless. unfair!
dumbstruck 'ohh..okay.'
mean auntie 'SO what you want!!'
confused customer- 'err.. tom yam yu zhou + fan!
(which was really stupid, i know! but two hours of sleep last night + CHINESE, give chance la)
vehement auntie- 'MEI YOU TOM YAM YU ZHOU!!!!' \

haaaai. so exciting.

beginnings are always the hardest.

the meek!
squeaksqueaksqueak we are the meek mess with us and we'l make you weak!

they look abit psycho, honest.

wohwohgirls!

gwen annette me cheryl!

working with honkhonk was pretty awesome!

gerry calls this the buddha jump! :)


H.O.T! :D

saved the best for last :)
we need more recent photos la.

howdy folks. its day One of the Year 2008.

this year is named after February, who took a leap in time but crashed into the hurdle, and had to walk out her 29th day in a tedious 24-hour hitchhike, with the rest of us.

at such a point in time aka the Beginning, we often look backwards to move forwards- and today i delved into an old journal full of ramblings, and dug out a thing worth voicing here:

To God.

Looking for that turn of phrase
That captures all my silent thoughts
To send in a letter back to Your seat
Without the triteness of jargon or deceit.

The words which strike deep within my being
And can rise to join the angels sing
Weighty enough for testimony
Yet strangely, light enough, for this heart you've set free.

Your love, your love, it touches me.
In describing perfection my words drop their wings and leave me

On a pallid plain i stand
Looking upward, i see Your hand.

Your whisper is a cloak around me
While your promises weave a living tapestry
Of unfading faithfulness, the only Thing
which remains in the barrenness of land

In a simple exchange of devotion
In the silence devoid of motion-

Your love stirs in me afresh and again
Jesus, i love you to the end.

--

new year, new starts. new endings.
sometimes it does good to yourself to let some things go-
erroneous perceptions, which weigh on you like unnecessary baggage,
that keep your hot air balloon from rising.
ahah. life is a hot air balloon. go figure.

and it does good to resolve things too, unraveling the knots because some strings are worth the keep.

and there are those things you never let go of, and simply learn to love better.

and there are the memories you keep as souvenirs- which dont weigh anything, but retain as that faint taste on the palette, that faint whiff of perfume, that particular slant of light on a particular angle of face, that smile

and there are the thankyous you give to God- for the way last semester turned out, for bringing persons into my life, for friendships, for growth, for the hurts which ive come to terms with, for family, for faithfulness, for never letting go, for prodding me on, for love, for you.

what will this year bring?
i dont know, God. surprise me.