A quarter of the year has gone by, just like that and before I know it, I'd be out of school and moving on into the next chapter - real adulthood. LASALLE has indeed taught me so much. It was probably the best decision I've made - or rather, the best back up plan, after A'levels. I must've mentioned this a lot. But till this day, no regrets. I must say, it's the people I've met and the experiences we shares together, collectively as a class. This batch is simply... spectacular.
The opportunities, the people, the exposure. It's all really up to you, to reach out and grab what was offerred. I reached and grabbed - though still not enough. Sometimes i lie awake at night thinking about all those talks I should have attended to network, all those exhibitions at our ICA galleries I should have popped by more often... all those networking opportunities I missed! Oh well, too late. If you ask me how passionate I am about the arts... I still don't have an answer. I think I'm still not asking myself the right questions. Now, before this entry starts sounding like a tribute to LASALLE (as if they don't have enough publicity already), let me move on and do what I do best... talking about myself.
Instead of writing my dissertation the way good students do, I took a little trip down memory lane, scrolling through my entries back from when I was just a child in uniform! Thought I knew a lot. What a joke. I knew so little it's quite embarrassing, reading it all just makes me want to bury my face in the sand like an ostrich. Somehow or other, the name "broccolee" resonates with me, still, up to this day. It actually came up when I named my electronic pet Brocco Lee (it was in a snow globe), after my favourite vegetable and it stuck. I thought I was so clever and cute with names. Broccolee then moved on to become a big part of me for awhile...
I kinda outgrew the broccoli phase and stopped loving them so much, just like how my entries are sparse and I gave up blogging because I'm doing so much writing on a daily basis; none recreational or personal, unfortunately, mostly business and school related. I never actually thought I'd ever stop feeling the need to rant or get the load off my chest through broccolee but at some point... I just stopped wanting to post stuff online. Could be Facebook. Could be that I lost interest. I'm not sure.
I haven't had a real break, not even a short getaway to some funky Indonesian island somewhere. Basically, I've been stuck in Singapore and I'm itching to be someplace else. I had back to back internships and crazy schedules for the past two years... up till January. Buried myself in work. I went crazy for awhile. Till my stint with Art Stage left me exhausted last Jan. But I'm still entertaining thoughts of going back. It was a great learning opportunity. I've been pretty much focusing on school ever since - busy being a student, they say. This left me bored, sadly and completely unchallenged. I act like i'm stressed out but honestly... I want to move on and do more!
I was writing a paper for my history class a few days back and I must say, i thought it was one of the most refreshing papers I've written in some time. We had to choose a theatre practitioner who made a conscious social awakening towards global issues faced by the world today and discuss how he/she negotiates with the public, politics morality and patronage. I was pretty stumped for awhile. Firstly, it's theatre (I'm more of a Visual Arts person despite how i may have seemingly given up on it back in my first year at LASALLE, see how quickly things change?) and I know absolutely nothing about it. So I asked around, spoke to people and settled on writing about our local playwright, Haresh Sharma. The more I read about what he does, the more impressed I was and the more I realised that hey... he stumbled onto something. This guy and his partner's amazing. They really believe in what they do and they did it. They just did it.
I still think that it's a little pretentious to say that art can change the world. So many things can, really, at a much faster pace too. To me, art is synonymous with hope. It's an outlet for the suppressed, the rich, the depressed... for anyone who spends time with it. Being in an environment like this, helped me heal. Actually, seeing some of the stuff that got sent in while interning with Freedom to Create helped me see that it's not really the art... but rather the story that comes with the art and the artist. People get more involved when you tell them a story - which is why i can't help but question what's the point of oil paintings if they're not meant to be commercial. Come, tell me why.
I spent quite a lot of my time the last 3 years reflecting, falling in and out with people I love(d) very much. Catching up with people i thought were long gone and then sometimes realising that hey... maybe you're supposed to remain gone. Exploring and learning new things about who I am as a person, as an arts manager and whether or not I really care about money and if that is what i'm really after in life. I still have no clue. Being around art, being with people who live breathe and believe in the arts have indeed helped me cope.
I don't think the girl, two years ago ever thought that she'd be here, today. She was just so upset and so focused on staying upset... I haven't arrived but I'm alive and I know now that sadness and difficulties are temporary. I stumbled upon bliss around six months ago.
Let's see what happens. I'm excited. Ciao.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
this or that?
I don't know about you guys but happy and fat sure comes in a bundle for me.
And i can't detach that fat bit at all. Been eating like i'm preparing to give birth to baby cows and giraffes (what's the right term.. foals?)
So really... I have two major worries: graduation... And my weight gain.
Other than that... I've been perfect :) with the occasional headaches that cripple me... Yes, i've been really happy!
And i can't detach that fat bit at all. Been eating like i'm preparing to give birth to baby cows and giraffes (what's the right term.. foals?)
So really... I have two major worries: graduation... And my weight gain.
Other than that... I've been perfect :) with the occasional headaches that cripple me... Yes, i've been really happy!
Sunday, February 12, 2012
So take me dancing tonight, I've been all on my own.
It must’ve been dark magic.
Why else would anyone, why else could anyone, put up with the torture?
He changed his mind about me as often as I change my mind about him. In that sense, we were in sync; we were as fickle as rain, restless. I’d wake up in the middle of the night wanting to see him so badly, sometimes. This happens when we go cold turkey on each other. It could be months, before we heard from or of each other. But no, I wouldn’t say we were lost.
I’d be a scavenger, hungry for any kind of information on him. It was like that. I need to feed. I’m not sure what it was like for him - but i knew he must’ve craved me dearly too. It was like that, our addiction.
For almost two years, we danced on the possibility of everything being impossible. I like impossible, it hurt, so much. But i liked it. I replayed it over and over in my head the pain he caused. The unnecessary information he loves feeding me with. The idea that I would never be enough for him was always a wretch to deal with, yet it keeps me sharp. It kills me yet it drives me. And it penetrates every little fibre in me. It makes me so goddamn hungry.
I never understood the attraction. I never understood our warped dynamics. Yet, I found comfort in his bastardy.
We danced, like this, a long time after we promised to stop. Sometimes i stick my leg out to trip him a little. I’d laugh with glee when he stumbles. Sometimes he spins me in and holds me close. Sometimes he throws me across the floor. I’d wait. And if he doesn’t help me up, I’d charged towards his back and he would always, always turn in time to the beat, just to catch me.
I was convinced that this is something I wanted to be a part of, a show of my commitment to my lover. “I accept you and cherish you, as whatever you are and I’ll always know you,” I thought. But the tempo changed. So did the entire choreography.
There were always other dancers. It is, after all, an entire production. They come and go. Some were beautiful. They provided flavour, they shook things up, they pranced and strutted. Some were too great, even. But it was never really about them. They were merely tools, that made us realise even more how much we needed to manifest ourselves even deeper within each other.
It’s the demons, that i could never cope with, his demons, on stage. His demons, backstage, his demons, waiting, like a raging temptress, always slinking around. You can’t let go of demons that easily.
We were in mid-air, you, struggling to hold me up and me, struggling to keep poised; we’re still dancing. We couldn’t begin yet there we were, we still couldn’t end. The lights were dimming.
Your grip, wavering.
I wriggled, let my body go. Fell to floor. I took a bow.
I exited, stage right.
Stage Right.
I’m going to be alright.
Why else would anyone, why else could anyone, put up with the torture?
He changed his mind about me as often as I change my mind about him. In that sense, we were in sync; we were as fickle as rain, restless. I’d wake up in the middle of the night wanting to see him so badly, sometimes. This happens when we go cold turkey on each other. It could be months, before we heard from or of each other. But no, I wouldn’t say we were lost.
I’d be a scavenger, hungry for any kind of information on him. It was like that. I need to feed. I’m not sure what it was like for him - but i knew he must’ve craved me dearly too. It was like that, our addiction.
For almost two years, we danced on the possibility of everything being impossible. I like impossible, it hurt, so much. But i liked it. I replayed it over and over in my head the pain he caused. The unnecessary information he loves feeding me with. The idea that I would never be enough for him was always a wretch to deal with, yet it keeps me sharp. It kills me yet it drives me. And it penetrates every little fibre in me. It makes me so goddamn hungry.
I never understood the attraction. I never understood our warped dynamics. Yet, I found comfort in his bastardy.
We danced, like this, a long time after we promised to stop. Sometimes i stick my leg out to trip him a little. I’d laugh with glee when he stumbles. Sometimes he spins me in and holds me close. Sometimes he throws me across the floor. I’d wait. And if he doesn’t help me up, I’d charged towards his back and he would always, always turn in time to the beat, just to catch me.
I was convinced that this is something I wanted to be a part of, a show of my commitment to my lover. “I accept you and cherish you, as whatever you are and I’ll always know you,” I thought. But the tempo changed. So did the entire choreography.
There were always other dancers. It is, after all, an entire production. They come and go. Some were beautiful. They provided flavour, they shook things up, they pranced and strutted. Some were too great, even. But it was never really about them. They were merely tools, that made us realise even more how much we needed to manifest ourselves even deeper within each other.
It’s the demons, that i could never cope with, his demons, on stage. His demons, backstage, his demons, waiting, like a raging temptress, always slinking around. You can’t let go of demons that easily.
We were in mid-air, you, struggling to hold me up and me, struggling to keep poised; we’re still dancing. We couldn’t begin yet there we were, we still couldn’t end. The lights were dimming.
Your grip, wavering.
I wriggled, let my body go. Fell to floor. I took a bow.
I exited, stage right.
Stage Right.
I’m going to be alright.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Hello Broccolee.
I've always been obsessed with this blog, since I started it back in OMG 2007! Feels like as if I've raised a toddler.
I used to dream and plan out what to write. And i used to get almost a hundred unique hits a day. All that in my blog's prime.
I thought i never would stop writing regularly here. But I suppose, i sorta did - eventually, sometime in April - May 2010. I just didn't have anything to say anymore. Or maybe I kinda lost sight of myself at that point in time. Hmm or it could be that I was having too much fun and coming home a little too late to blog. Plus, i took on minimal copywriting projects at that point, so that meant less time on the computer and more time outside, with the then jackass of a boyfriend who was so assholically appealing & irresistible and his dynamic friends (who i admit that i have sorely missed but life goes on too quickly so... oh well).
Then i suppose after that, I got truly busy, reorganizing my life. And trying to figure out how to reinvent myself and be better than ever. The answer has always been pretty clear: I needed to be thin & toned. Unfortunately, that is still not happening. I went on fad (fat) diets and crazy bursts of exercises for like, maybe 15 mins and then ache till i feel like as if i'm pushing a baby outta my ass. I would then go into this crazy tirade with myself and I will fight and blame and punish myself with sit ups and then cry and eat cake and call Farah out for something savory coz sweet just don't do it for me.
So it was like that for a bit. I of course did the usual; threw myself into work/school. I established new relationships with a bunch of different people. Forged alliances. Doodled plans in my notebook. Doodled ideas and drew mind maps on scraps of paper when it hits - I surfed the net a whole lot. And I got in touch with this somewhat maternal side. I kinda found out that I like doing something for the benefit of children. I still don't like having to be directly in contact with them... But I'd like to benefit them in some way.
I don't know what this whole entry is about, really. I suppose i'm trying to talk myself through my own life. I'm kinda being lazy. Blogging is usually the act of procrastinating, really. I'm typing down this entry cause I don't quite feel like studying. Or picking up the pen. Just yet.
It was a good Ramadhan, anyway. I definitely was not the best Muslim but I tried, very hard, to keep myself in check. And I'm not sure what propelled me to do that but I certainly hope that my intentions weren't flawed. From what i remember, every time I pray, I will, without fail, ask for God to give me the strength to overcome whatever obstacles. I won't say that i really feel like I am strong, cause I sure am not... but I have managed to handle shit better. I have faith that I'll get through any kinda shit, regardless of how many nights I spend feeling like the worse person in the world - I will get through it. Alhamdulillah. I suppose life hasn't been all that kind but definitely, far from cruel. I did however, pray for something a little more specific this time around.
"Ask and you shall receive".
I did, ask. I don't know if it's the best for me, honestly and I have many doubts. But I just can't see myself NOT having _____ and the whole package that I have painstakingly designed in my head. I feel silly, asking for something so specific. Embarrassed, really. But I really want it :( Hahaha spoilt brat. Can't help but think - what if God has something better in store for me? Nah, but i have vested my trust in You and maybe He will grant me what i want first... and if it's really all wrong than... it's ok, I have the rest of my life to figure it out.
Zoe did suggest that I pray for peace. It's not at all overrated, come to think of it. I'd like to find peace within me. That calmness I've heard people talking about but have never felt it myself. What is that like?
So that is all. This is one long entry. So haphazardly written too.
So far, i have pretty much stuck to my guns. My priorities have not shifted one tiny bit.
1) Graduate well
2) Built strong business relations
3) Accomplish as much as I can professionally, before graduation
Okay... except, maybe, I still have not quite started studying since the internship ended. So now what happens? I feel like i'm falling behind already. Readings, assignments, the thesis... aaaargh. I even had a nightmare about school.
I used to dream and plan out what to write. And i used to get almost a hundred unique hits a day. All that in my blog's prime.
I thought i never would stop writing regularly here. But I suppose, i sorta did - eventually, sometime in April - May 2010. I just didn't have anything to say anymore. Or maybe I kinda lost sight of myself at that point in time. Hmm or it could be that I was having too much fun and coming home a little too late to blog. Plus, i took on minimal copywriting projects at that point, so that meant less time on the computer and more time outside, with the then jackass of a boyfriend who was so assholically appealing & irresistible and his dynamic friends (who i admit that i have sorely missed but life goes on too quickly so... oh well).
Then i suppose after that, I got truly busy, reorganizing my life. And trying to figure out how to reinvent myself and be better than ever. The answer has always been pretty clear: I needed to be thin & toned. Unfortunately, that is still not happening. I went on fad (fat) diets and crazy bursts of exercises for like, maybe 15 mins and then ache till i feel like as if i'm pushing a baby outta my ass. I would then go into this crazy tirade with myself and I will fight and blame and punish myself with sit ups and then cry and eat cake and call Farah out for something savory coz sweet just don't do it for me.
So it was like that for a bit. I of course did the usual; threw myself into work/school. I established new relationships with a bunch of different people. Forged alliances. Doodled plans in my notebook. Doodled ideas and drew mind maps on scraps of paper when it hits - I surfed the net a whole lot. And I got in touch with this somewhat maternal side. I kinda found out that I like doing something for the benefit of children. I still don't like having to be directly in contact with them... But I'd like to benefit them in some way.
I don't know what this whole entry is about, really. I suppose i'm trying to talk myself through my own life. I'm kinda being lazy. Blogging is usually the act of procrastinating, really. I'm typing down this entry cause I don't quite feel like studying. Or picking up the pen. Just yet.
It was a good Ramadhan, anyway. I definitely was not the best Muslim but I tried, very hard, to keep myself in check. And I'm not sure what propelled me to do that but I certainly hope that my intentions weren't flawed. From what i remember, every time I pray, I will, without fail, ask for God to give me the strength to overcome whatever obstacles. I won't say that i really feel like I am strong, cause I sure am not... but I have managed to handle shit better. I have faith that I'll get through any kinda shit, regardless of how many nights I spend feeling like the worse person in the world - I will get through it. Alhamdulillah. I suppose life hasn't been all that kind but definitely, far from cruel. I did however, pray for something a little more specific this time around.
"Ask and you shall receive".
I did, ask. I don't know if it's the best for me, honestly and I have many doubts. But I just can't see myself NOT having _____ and the whole package that I have painstakingly designed in my head. I feel silly, asking for something so specific. Embarrassed, really. But I really want it :( Hahaha spoilt brat. Can't help but think - what if God has something better in store for me? Nah, but i have vested my trust in You and maybe He will grant me what i want first... and if it's really all wrong than... it's ok, I have the rest of my life to figure it out.
Zoe did suggest that I pray for peace. It's not at all overrated, come to think of it. I'd like to find peace within me. That calmness I've heard people talking about but have never felt it myself. What is that like?
So that is all. This is one long entry. So haphazardly written too.
So far, i have pretty much stuck to my guns. My priorities have not shifted one tiny bit.
1) Graduate well
2) Built strong business relations
3) Accomplish as much as I can professionally, before graduation
Okay... except, maybe, I still have not quite started studying since the internship ended. So now what happens? I feel like i'm falling behind already. Readings, assignments, the thesis... aaaargh. I even had a nightmare about school.
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