Bremen posting

Dear Friends,

I am writing this to let you know I am presently residing in the comforts of small town of Bremen in Germany. Auf der Wachsbleiche to be precise. In T's lovely home, with two cats (Robert and Clara) and a big-bear looking dog called Tapas. London has exhausted me and this quiet little town is a little pleasure I so badly need for this moment in time. I am being very lazy these days and my laziness has perhaps reached an excessive point where I feel as though my brains and any soul left of it has been almost filtered out. I don't quite like to think that this is anywhere negative. It is indeed therapuetic. I am certain you will understand how it is so much easier to pass the day sitting, sipping overflowing tea, talking and dreaming than resolve to spend it productively.

I have been here for almost a week and in the time I have been away, I have learned much about my capacity to cope with being alone in a foreign place and away from any nuances of familiar comforts. It is not easy and perhaps never will but the body and mind is resilient I guess. And if each day I find little pieces of gems and treasures, I am grateful.

This is a very lovely town, and strangely it reminds me a little too much of Canberra even. A little quiet town with its unique characteristics lurking in unknown little corners. It is joy to discover these things, mostly accidental. Sometimes, I find it very surreal to think I actually took this step to be here. Cycling is a nightmare for me though. For those who know me well, I am a certified nervous cyclist. The roads are narrow, the cars slow and they seem to be annoyed at you if you happen to not understand the rules of the road. And as such I am beginning to doubt my capability to learn how to drive.. hmmm..

I am lazy yet again and the sun is starting to shine after days of sporadic rain... I might consider the idea of a walk. I am thinking of you as I am writing this and as you are reading it.

Much much love as always..

The Photographic Story

This is the book that fascinates me the most presently (on top of the other read as well by Soyinka, the first African to receive the Nobel Prize in Literature). On Photography is a collection of six essays by American writer Susan Sontag. This is a brilliant book. Beautifully written, intelligent and thoughtful. In my dreams, I wish I could write like her.

On Photography makes one think and question our societal construction of images - what ought to be preserved, what ought to be displayed, who decides what goes into the picture frame etc. Photographs we take are more than just mementos of a lived experience. It is a reconstruction of a present for the future. We keep pictures not only for memory but also to inform our children and grandchildren of the lives we had. In doing so, we reconstruct this present or future for that matter by carefully selecting pictures that are flattering, that depicts joy, laughter and good times. These are pictures we proudly display on the shelves. The rest that reminds us of sadness and pain will essentially remain hidden in that little shoe box and stored in the corner of the drawer to collect years of dust.

Importantly, this book has allowed me to understand why I take photographs and why I value them and will hold on them to dearly. It allows me to capture the life around me that I normally otherwise would not have noticed. It gives me great pleasure to take a snapshot of a face I secretly adore. Beautiful photographs bring wonderful sentiments along with them. For me, it far beyond what the picture says, it's what the pictures conjure in me each time I look at it that matters more.

I loved you once by Alexander Pushkin (1799-1837)

I loved you once, nor can this heart be quiet;
For it would seem that love still lingers there;

But do not you be further troubled by it;
I would in no wise hurt you, oh, my dear.

I loved you without hope, a mute offender;
What jealous pangs, what shy despairs I knew!

A love as deep as this, as true, as tender,God grant another may yet offer you.

top to bottom: the mannequin pis dressed as a venetian peasant and medieval representations..

Brussels part 2

In my eyes and my eyes alone, Brussels comprised of the following items and experiences:

pretty jewellery. a stylish jacket. eurostar. one duck leg. kriek. pierre macolini. mannequin pis dressed as a venetian peasant. a monty hotel. waffles. a runny nose. german, french and flemish sounds that is honestly unintelligible to my ears. medieval lives on display. beautiful architecture. a third of james brown thrown together with some old school hip hop, all courtesy of matz. pitta bread with fillings. thee. an understanding of the belgian tradition of beer drinking. cobbled stone streets. scholes. fromage. one beautiful day spent in brugges. european baccalaureate. a warm belgian family. rainy days. croissants. tintin. lots of smiles, laughter, hugs, kisses and love.

Brussels has been unbelievably warm, kind and generous to me and for that, this whole adventure has been heaven.

Tomorrow, London awaits.

Brussels part 1

Today I am writing this to you from a nice, brick hotel located in Montgomery in the city of Brussels. Refurbished in 2003, the interior of the Hotel Monty is centred on a perpetual red-white colour scheme, which in some ways reminded me very much of lunar new year celebrations back home. Seriously it does. Slightly unnerving I must say at first but you get used to it. And in a while, it does becomes artistically pleasing, with te likes of those ghost-like, transparent chairs by Phillip Starck and gorgeous lamps by Kartell and Bourgies and so on.

In the time I have been in Europe (as of today, that would be an estimated four days), I have managed to do the following:
1. slipped and fell on the Millennia Bridge across Tate Modern in London, and as such I now have a very sore, red and scarred left knee. NB: Please note that this injury was incurred not so much in excitement as I ran across to meet my loved one.

I simply stopped and stood still and I slipped. It was almost as though my brain decided then that I should fall and I certainly did. As I have mentioned many times before, I do suffer from crippling bouts of idiocy. This is one of those moments and rest assured, I believe there is more to come.

2. sat around a dinner party with many, many and I mean many Germans and have little inkling as to what dinner conversations was all about. There is a possible chance that I am exaggerating here. I do get bits and pieces of German but for the love of the language, I don’t get around it very much. And then the very next day, attended a typical European high school graduation where almost every other language was spoken except English. A cacophony of German, French, Flemish, Italian sounds that was almost unintelligble to my Asian ears. Delightful experience.

3. a runny nose

Not too bad I'd say...

ps: I missed rice badly. I know I have only been gone for less than a week and one should after all maintained an open and inquisitive mind when travelling in strange lands, BUT I want rice! If anyone of you could possibly shipped me a plate together with some kangkung, and maybe some sambal udang together with a bowl of asam pedas, I will be most grateful. On top of that, appreciate it if you also send some of those jollybean soya bean drink. I have a small love for soya bean. Thank you. Your kindness is really appreciated and upon receiving these items stated aboved, you will immediately be moved onto the number 1 spot on my "Favourite People" list... yay!

As expected, it was one long slow painful flight. Painful because I was unfortunately squashed in the middle seat, with very limited freedom of movement. Now now.. I may be small (I stand at about 1.58metres tall and weigh no more than possibly 43kg) BUT still, it was very uncomfortable. It was slightly more than a twelve-hour flight from Singapore Changi Airport into London Heathrow Airport. Leaving Singapore was more difficult than I expected. Leaving faces I have known over the years, the smells I have been accustomed to, the food, the hot humid weather, the likes of Orchard Road and other haunts..

Some of you may recall late night conversations regarding my concerns about moving away. To you who took time to listen to my rantings and stood by me in during those unexpected outbursts, I owe you a world of thanks.

Despite the flight discomforts, I got into London safe and sound (strangely, recent bomb threats in the UK didn’t quite feature in my list of concern). I was extremely tired, but it was wonderful to see him again and to know this is a start of some life together. Let’s take this one tiny step first.

Ladies and gentlmen, here are the chronicles of my miss-adventures and travel experiments..

ps: write me a note and i'll send a postcard and a kiss..

Goodbye

I am leaving tonight for Europe and then god knows where after. The idea T and I have right now is to move to Africa. T just received his posting and it looks like we are going to Ghana. Exciting!

You may have heard me say how I am slowly and surely developing a distaste for goodbyes. I am. It has been a series of hellos and goodbyes lately and hasn't been that much fun. In fact, it is veru difficult. I am getting anxious as I slowly count down the hours and minutes till this body gets on that plane. I feel like my heart is palpitating out of control. Well, almost. I know I am exaggerating. I think we all do more than we know or care to admit. Of course I am not leaving forever, now that would be an exaggeration BUT it is still 'goodbye' for now. No matter how we choose to say it or see it, it is a goodbye. And it is not easy.

I get these feelings each time I am about to go and even after so many times, I have never gotten used to it. I think I shouldn't. Goodbyes are not supposed to be fun, thus one shouldn't make a ceremony out of it.. or should we? I am visibly confused now. As usual, when in doubt, I went out and got myself a haircut. I've always wanted straight bangs.fringe.

these words...

Dumbb & Nutty - Today I am dedicating this space to 2 very special people in my life. I have known him since 1998 and her since 2004. There were hard times which I'd like to erase from the corners of my mind, magical moments I still cling on to and plenty of laughter and tears. They have seen at my best and at my worst. They have seen me laugh, cry, puke my guts out, held my hands, and above all been oh-so-patient when I behaved like an over-hyperactive arse.

They partake in the random games I 'designed' without question and watched me haggled over the ridiculous price of Fuji apples at the supermarket without judgement. They still listened when I tell them jokes that were never funny to begin with, and remind me of my occasional bouts of idiocy which can happen far too often actually. Most times I am speechless by their grace and patience with me. Above all, I am thankful and blessed to have known them intimately. So many things I will miss - him repeating himself more than twice, her insatiable attraction for certain brown folks, him and his quirky one-liners, her never being on time, him telling me all will be alright, her obsession with pomelos etc etc.. the list goes on. I would break my bones for them, and cross the streets without looking just for them. In so many ways, my life is where it is today because they were part of it.

In ways unexplained, I wished I did not have to leave. I have said goodbyes to these two wonderful beings far too many times, some harder than most. Him especially. Each day when I think of them, I am forever grateful because they love me dearly.
Whatever the distance, to me, that all that matters.

Today, I humbly thank them for being my friends..