o gracious body. o gracious being

the form, the bodies, of old people are beautiful. the curves in their backs, an act of humility towards the land. earth. edged nearer to it. face to face. conversations. waiting. getting ready to return to it. ashes to ashes. dust to dust. wrinkled skin. sunk into bones. revealing the human form. we are but skin and bones, when all else is eaten away, wasted away, worked away. ashes to ashes. dust to dust. their slow steps. the return to a beginning, when all will end. to remember the discovery of all things, anew. a re-discovery. letting birds in flight enthrall. letting light sit upon the skin, longer. letting it bless. ashes to ashes. dust to dust. hair of white. pristine. all the colors spent, living, breathing, creating, doing. like fuel, burnt up into ashes of white, worn like a crown. of kings and queens, scattered across our lands, etched free from their rule. becoming bards with tales of the world, if we but ask. 

o gracious body. o gracious being. 

hello

photo by seuty

when someone said 'no'

when there was no reply

when someone said 'it's over'

when they shut the door

when doubt became flesh 

when she insisted she was shy

when he insisted he didn't care

when she fell asleep

when he woke up

when they said 'stop'

when the first tear was shed

when there were no tears

when the silence wasn't broken

batcave

the girls love the batcave 

We Are AWARE

a tad bit overdue but no revolution is ever 'expired'. it has to be constantly documented, and redocumented. remembered, and re-remembered. so here it is. 

for more, visit AWARE

grandmothers, being ill, & time

the combination of having ill grandmothers and having little time to spend with them, is both a painful and guilty feeling. how necessary it then becomes, to know their stories from before they became grandmothers. 



my nenek (in Bahasa Melayu, paternal grandmother)



my nani (in Bengoli, maternal grandmother)

note to the twitching eye

dear twitching eye,

why do you twitch? is it because you're feeling neglected? but do i not see with you every day, in every moment? how is that neglect? or perhaps i'm over-using you? do you need me to rest and close my eyes more? but i can't! because i am awake for most of the day, doing work and living my life. i think it would be very unfair of you to ask of me to sleep my life away, wouldn't it? what? use an eye patch? and look like a pirate? i don't think i can do that, especially when most people already think of me as a freak, talking to myself within the public sphere. you do understand, right? oh! it's the laptop screen? i see! is that what's making you twitch a lot? you're sensitive to the screen? hmm. that is something i really can't avoid, as most of what i do revolves around having me sit in front of the laptop, staring straight into it as that's where all the information, data, and text are located within. and these are information that i cannot do without, as you know, the 'thesis' needs to be done. or wait? is it the 'thesis' that you're 'allergic' too? well, i'm not surprised. i'm rather allergic to it myself. but it's finishing, soon. i promise you. and i've noticed that being on campus makes you twitch as well, especially when the trip is made in relation to the 'thesis'. the museum was nice, wasn't it? and so were the picnics and the lunches with friends. but the 'thesis', bahh!! so, ok. we've identified the source of your twitching. it's the 'thesis'. oh, oh, ok. i'll stop using the word itself. we'll call it the 'T'. i will endure your twitching for a while more as i finish the 'T' and promise to take 5, oh, ok, 10 minute eye breaks from time to time. we'll stare into other people's houses or look for goblins in the clouds, something far away from the laptop. i promise.

much love,

n.

Cove Red EP Launch

here's a shout-out for my girls of Cove Red. they're having an unofficial EP Launch this month. 

24th & 31st May 09

Earshot Cafe @ The Arts House, Singapore, 1 Old Parliament Lane 

5.30 - 7.30 pm

their sound

their blog

i'd also like to thank them for giving me the opportunity to photography and design their EP. it was loads of fun and it's something i enjoy doing. am looking forward to the awakening of their many dreams. 

Site, Situation, Spectator opening

i meant to write something about this a while back, but procrastination always wins me over. it went well. the audience were intrigued by the exhibits and for a student project, it was well executed and presented. for me, however, the experience and thrill was derived more through the conceptual and curatorial process of it all, as it's something that i'm interested in. i'm never good with openings but i think i managed it well. was asked to give an impromptu closing mini-speech, and as usual, i spoke too fast, as i always do when i know what i'm talking about. taking pauses to breathe seems unnecessary during these moments. nonetheless, it went well. am happy about it, and am looking forward to creating and curating my own projects soon. 

first up, The Classroom. 

a journey

she reaches for...

the beautifully imperfect...

thinking thoughts, bundled in boxes...

that lead her into blinding light...

only to withdraw into shadow.

palette

entity exchange

i started off this project with the aim of instilling words into this realm of the urban unvoiced. to instill narratives that we engage in our everyday - be it the banal or the sensational - posted onto symbolic (or not) white papers that are anthropomorphized to 'become' that said narrative- a very much 'alive' entity. i went about pasting/releasing/voicing them into the public sphere, open to the contact of entities who will recognize the words as part of their medium of sense-making. how they relate to it, however, is left purely ambiguous. to each his own. *this is an ongoing project. more releases can be found here*

The Ambiguous ‘Alternative’: a Method to Narrative Others

i am one of the curators for this exhibition. opening 15 may 09 @ the NUS Museum, Singapore. below is an excerpt of my curatorial. 

Conventionally, our idea of the ‘alternative’ is one that is thought of as held in juxtaposition to an ‘other’, as a subversion, or as a dichotomy to the official, the formal, the State-owned. This is however, no longer a viable approach, as narratives do not exist as a duality. It is no longer one or the other, but one or the many others. Experiences of a singular event, entity, or moment in history can be multiplied manifold, sparking the existence of a multifarious range of stories, narratives. Water, for example, is no longer seen as merely an essential for living (drinking, agriculture), or as nature (in relation to man), but it was also once thought of as symbolic of conquest, discovery and freedom (travel, Colonization), and in more contemporary times, disaster and death (tsunami). To merely engage in the process of subverting ‘official’ narratives would deem the content produced inadequate in representing the diverse narratives that exist. Instead, we are forced to engage in a more nuanced approach to the ‘alternative’. 

the ambiguous alternative

"Ambiguity may be the clue: there is the material, and there I am intruding my private intent. I know the imminence of the world and experience with full sensuality; at the same time I am involved with the projection of myself as idea. Strong tensions are inevitable, pleasurable and disturbing. Is not the aesthetic optimum order with the tensions continuing?”

 

                      - Aaron Siskind

and just because tears come easily

i wonder. if you grow 5-10 years within a year itself, does this mean that as you actually grow (chronologically & physically) older, you won't grow (metaphorically) anymore. or perhaps, the growth process decelerates. learning lesser things. merely a stoic squirm amidst the world of the happening. i've seen that. i've lived through it. that, is life. degrees of inaffection. stagnance. you can die now. you've seen, done it all. 

or perhaps, our inner growth far surpasses the 'life expectancy' number limit that chains our bodies to 'mortality'. perhaps, our inner selves encompass a more accentuated concept of the immortal. a 26 year-old with a 70 year-old soul. a 70 year-old with a 218 year-old soul. she dies, but fragments of her self survives. the photos she's taken. the cameras now in the hands of great-great grandchildren. stolen moments with the people she loved. pieces of words embedded into cracked walls. fibres of world she existed within. even as her body perishes under the laws of mortality, she continues to grow. a growth that is not dependent merely on the memories of the people she knew (because people are never really enough), but within the entities - even the intangible - that she had created, touched, breathed, owned, discarded. because, in a way, nothing is ever really gone. nobody is ever really lost. 

 

it merely transforms. pocketed, from one form to another.

bodies, into earth. persons, into memories. memories, into objects. objects, into other objects. living amidst one and all. 

and for those gone from our touch, may they linger in our thoughts. and just because tears come easily, it doesn't mean it brought sadness along as a partner. 

grotesque surrealism

may messages

so here comes the month of may. i peak whenever it comes to this month of madness, mayhem, merriness, melancholy, moods, muffins, myopia(?). well partly coz it's my birthmonth but also because may is magic! 

may messages

for the lightless

slideshow

trickster's theory to everything

a fresh new perspective
"humour is the body, asserting itself against the head"

inner core

life worlds

like it or not, we often relate to our 'reality' through the life experiences of those around us - those who reside within the same cultural and social circles of our everyday. i remember being a young girl, influenced by the concept of 'wanting'. wanting certain things, to experience them just because the other girls had them. freedom. being able to get a haircut from a salon and not mom's brutal bowl-shaped 'bob' style. Polly Pockets. small girly worlds encapsulated within cute, colorful pocket-sized compact cases that, well, fitted our pockets, but not without the existence of a huge bulge on the side of the pinafore. an intrusion to the girlish figure.

the teenage years are harder. association. belonging. peer pressure. we begin to form ideas about friendships, boy-girl relationships (BGR, as they termed it). we begin to develop ideals of who we are in relation or in constrast to others. we create fads to differentiate ourselves from the masses. black bracelet bands. short socks. never tucking in our blouses. solidarity in defiance. in juxtaposition, or in agreement to one another. the teenage years, filled with carefree moments of fun and play, indented by major examinations that bring about misery. solidarity in misery. great milestones of the education system. all hail.

leaving the teenage years. university. everyone seems motivated. some are motivated to play. others, motivated to work and work. get on the dean's list. get that perfect CAP score. score. and then there are those motivated to cause impact. impact. looking at the motivated ones keeps one in check. am i doing enough? should i do more? should i care? what can i do? it shapes the way we begin to make choices. choices about what we want to experience, and how we choose to experience them.

and then comes the mid-20s. for those who go on to become 'real adults', they move into the working world. but for some of my friends and i, we chose the postgraduate path. resisting reality for a little while more. looking at our friends who are working and earning, we are reminded of the need, the want for money. savings. zilch. postgraduates are usually financially-challenged (FC) people. yes they have a lot of free time, but they're FC. to a certain extent. the mid-20s also introduce another 'necessary' step to ones social evolution to adulthood - serious relationships and marriage. being a single 25-year-old (soon to be 26) woman in Singapore, who also happens to belong to an ethnic community that prides the value of a woman on her being married, is agitating. i repeat. agitating. looking at friends and cousins who are married, some with a child, reminds us that they're either going too fast, or we, too slow. and so, this period of mid-20s has lately been alot about marriage. when. who. where. how does the dress look like. why are you still single!? SPG. single. picky/petty. girl. hmm.

i'm not sure what the patterns will be as we progress into our 30s and 40s. perhaps it'll be about job security. are you earning your first million? or about the family. are you pregnant yet? are you getting your own place? divorce? or maybe about achievements. nobel prize!? who knows. but i'm very sure that we will all reach a phase in our lives when we start conversations with Death. that person we went to primary school with, passed away last week. recognizing familiar faces on the orbituary page. people we've grown up with, now gone, reminding us of our mortality in this world. reminding us of our regrets of the younger days. the good moments. the bad ones. reflections. the past summed up in stories told over casual dinners. the 'future' embedded in that present day, in and of itself. of life, and living.