by vienna teng
it's the quiet night that breaks me,
i cannot stand the sight of this familiar place.
it's the quiet night that breaks me,
like a dozen papercuts that only i can trace.
all my books are lying useless now;
all my maps will only show me how to lose my way.
oh call my name, you know my name.
and in that sound, everything will change.
tell me it won't always be this hard.
i am nothing without you,
but i don't know who you are.
it's the crowded room that breaks me;
everybody looks so luminous, and strangely young.
it's the crowded room that's never heard,
no one here can say a word of my native tongue.
i can't be among them anymore,
i fold myself away before it burns me numb.
oh call my name, you know my name.
and in your love, everything will change.
tell me it won't always be this hard.
i am nothing without you,
but i don't know who you are.
it had been my intention to launch my rejuvenated blog in a few weeks, but this all fell together much quicker than i anticipated. despite the measure of apprehension, there also exists a new courage.
so here's saying adieu to old ways and paths that i must leave behind. a new world awaits.
The dearth of updates lately is not because nothing interesting has occured, but rather the result of a struggle to find reasons to carry on blogging.
It has been a wonderful journey. Because of blogging I discovered an outlet for writing, developed a passion for photography and became exposed to many great thinkers and artists through this amazing and creative platform.
But for reasons I do not wish to get into, I feel my time here is up. In this final post, I wish to thank all those who have been kind and generous enough to comment on and interact with my sharing and muses these past 16 months.
God bless you all.
Beautiful day. Marina Bay. Frisbee Tournament. 'Nuff said!
Here is our very own team from SMU! Yay! You can see Debbie in high action as she chases any opponents off her turf. Scram! Beat it! 
At tournament level, frisbee is not the relaxing pastime you might think it is. It's fast, unpredictable and rough. There's lots of sprinting and sliding on the grass. When you're holding on to the frisbee, your opponent can't touch you. But after you let it fly... be prepared for some body slams! 
Just because it's a sport and you badly want to win doesn't mean you shouldn't look good doing it, right? Jumping and catching is a popular and cool-points earning manoeuvre (if you actually catch the frisbee, that is). Dangling it in front of an opponent is also a good way to rile them up and get them to lose their cool. There are also lots of ways to fake your throws in order to mess with your opponent's timing.
Here are more stances you have to know if you want to be serious about frisbee-ing. Most involve bending of knees (the lower you go, the cooler it looks!) and a devil-may-care expression on your face. Do practice at home before attempting them in public. It's hard to look nonchalant when a tendon is ripping somewhere in your body... 
But why go with the flow when you can stand out with unorthodox methodologies (and outfits)? For example, wearing a sheer skirt and asking for a tango is bound to unnerve some guys. Or if you're bored with throwing already? Well, it makes a decent football, too! Trying out your Bruce Lee poses can also strike fear (and hopefully paralysis) in the hearts of your opponents. And finally, nothing says chic like a good straw hat to block out the sun.Hot on the heels of the anniversary musical comes another project to prevent my vocal cords from getting flabby. The Celebration Chorus began rehearsals today for its year-end performance of famed French composer Gabriel Faure's wistful Requiem in D minor.
I have never had the opportunity to sing in this beloved work so it was a privilege I really wanted to grasp. Also, observing and learning from Tom Anderson, the accolade-laden conductor of the Celebration Chorus, was a strong motivating factor as well.
One of the aspects of music which most people don't realize is how quickly inspiration to perform, pursue or even practice can evaporate and dissipate. Music making is at its most powerful when it is a two-way street; the process has to communicate with something or react to some sort of emotional input. What it shouldn't be, though, is dutiful replication from hours of mindless drills.
As it stands, I have been trudging through a dry spell musically for a fair bit of time now. Churning the songs out for the musical was, in all honesty, like wringing water from stone. The melodies were not difficult to compose, but the content of the songs had to clawed and hauled out from deep within me. Hopefully, this new project will restore some passion and get new ideas budding as well.
The Celebration Chorus is a non-profit organization formed in 2000 for the express purpose of promoting and performing sacred works. Members of this chorus (and orchestra) are volunteers who hail from different denominations and are united by the goal of bringing God's Word through music to the people. Do check out their site for more information.
And I'm finally back.
The anniversary musical is now a memory; a fond kind that curls the edges of your lips upwards as the thoughts run. Up till the final moments, I couldn't be sure if it would all turn out. There were so many things that could have gone awry, but they didn't, and for that I'm so grateful. That the general reaction towards it was unexpectedly back-thumpingly positive is merely icing on the cake. God works in wonderous ways, indeed, far beyond what my little measure of faith would even dare to envision.
Along the way, though, real life deigned to mimic art. Some themes put forth in the musical came alarmingly to life. There were flared tempers, heated exchanges and angry tears of frustration. I supposed it would be naive to be shocked, or even surprised. Afterall, the script meant to reflect real struggles and challenges which could potentially afflict anyone at anytime. So at the risk of sounding jaded and cynical, why should it not have occured in the context that it did?
We are only human, aren't we?
But it's not my intention to dwell on our evident fragility. The success of the presentation was God's doing, who worked through the tenacity of the cast and crew, as well as faithful support from many others. Here is a big thank you to all of them.
I didn't take very many pictures during the course of the rehearsals (there's the mark of a tenth-rate photographer right there! *heavy sigh*), save for the first time we rehearsed in the sanctuary last week. Here are some of those captured moments with rather liberal (but hopefully humorous) embellishments.
"Napping while the rest of us are slaving away?!?"
"This is how you own the catwalk, ladies! Are you taking notes?"
Some people obviously don't know the meaning of 'a-TEN-shun!'
I'm out of good captions for the next 3. Anyone can help?
With the realization that it's all over finally hitting home, I'm a jumbled mis-mash of opposing emotions right about now. It's a strange sensation; sort of like finally getting something you've craved longingly for, only to find it wasn't all you imagined it would be.
Oh well, I suppose I have lots of time ahead to get this knot untangled. But before I start on that, the bedroom kinda looks like it needs work. *groan*
What a mess.
My frame of mind is reflected acutely by the dismal state of my room, my closet, my work desk and generally any space that I have access to. Everything is in stormy disarray as I sieve frantically through the sky-high stacks of stuff and more stuff. Where on earth did all this come from, I wonder in fearful bewilderment as I stand in the eye of the furor, attempting to hold on to any last shreds of sanity and dignity. As it is, my body clock is majorly out of whack, I've not had an ounce of energy to exercise, I'm irritable, I'm tensed, and the dreaded to-do list keeps bloating up.
Somebody, anybody, please wake me up from the horror!
The silver lining, though, is that the end is already in plain view. With the anniversary weekend just 11 short days away, however, the things that require attention are also clamoring incessantly to be seen and heard. There are still so many details to take care of and each one comes with its own set of clauses, demands and the occasional humbling slap in the face.
What, exactly, have I been doing the past 6 months to have allowed affairs to bottleneck so dangerously at this crucial juncture? Well, in my flimsy defense, I can only say, with great remorse, that I've not handled this project well and I'm completely to blame for not seeking assistance and counsel earlier.
Thank God, then, for the highly-capable team that has been assembled over the past several weeks. They have banded together to see this through and have done a marvelous job in ensuring that things are moving crisply along now in order that we make it to the finish line on time. What would I do without them?
I will say that I've learnt (the hard way) a valuable lesson from the ignorant months of flying solo. While the view, sense of accomplishment and ego-boost can be phenomenal, I've realized with no one to bail me out if bad weather hits, I’m going down in a flaming ball of lonely screams anyway.
When all this is over, I have a lot of people to thank. And a very messy room to organize!
I stumbled across this touching video and after watching it through tear-brimmed eyes, I knew I had to share it.
Dick and Rick Hoyt are a father and son team of marathon competitors. To date, they have competed in almost 1000 events together. This is all the more staggering when you realize that Rick can't walk or talk.
In 1962, as Rick was born, the umbilical cord cut off the oxygen to his brain and caused severe damage. Doctors predicted he would be in a vegetative state the rest of his life. Rick's parents, however, decided to raise Rick in a normal and loving environment, eventually developing a computer system that could help Rick to communicate by tapping letters to form sentances.
In 1975, Rick asked his father if he could participate in a local 5-mile benefit for someone who had been paralysed in an accident. Dick Hoyt agreed to push Rick in his wheelchair for the event. From then on, their world changed and Team Hoyt was born. Eventually, their inspirational appearances became a moving symbol of inclusion for society's outcasts as well as a father's steadfast and unfailing love.
"The message of Team Hoyt is that everybody should be included in everyday life" Rick Hoyt
For more infomation on Team Hoyt, check out their offical site here.
Fresh from the high of birthday wishes and wanton piggery, a horrible thing had to happen to zap that fuzzy vibe.
I realized the battery charger for my camera wouldn't work properly. The unit would charge for all of 5 seconds before the charge light would go abruptly off. I tried using it at different power outlets around the house and office but the result was always the same.
Hmmm, I mused, it's not even been a year and this is already giving me trouble. Sigh, guess it's time to give the friendly folk at the service center a buzz.
Service Center Gal (SCG): Hello?
Me: Good morning, is this the KM service center?
SCG: Yes.
Me: I'd like make an inquiry. How do I go about repairing or replacing a faulty battery charger?
SCG: Well, the charger can't be repaired. I'll transfer you to the spare parts center.
Me: Oh, er, ok, thank you.
*ear-bleeing being-transferred-music starts up*
'Spare parts center' sounds like they deal with pig innards and such, I thought while glaring at my useless charger.
SCG 2: Hello?
Me: Oh yes, good morning, is this the spare parts center? (rolling my eyes)
SCG 2: Yes.
Me: I have a faulty battery charger that I need to either repair or replace. Can you help me?
SCG 2: Oh, the charger can't be repaired. You'll have to replace it. What is the model number?
Me: It's BC-400 for the KM 5D.
SCG 2: Hold on, let me check, ok?
Me: Sure.
I continue staring daggers at the charger sitting undeservedly on my desk.
SCG 2: Hello? Well, the charger has been discontinued. It's a really old model.
Me: What? The 5D was released just last year!
SCG 2: I'm sorry, but we don't carry stocks of it anymore.
Me: Then what I am supposed to do with my camera? Throw it away?
SCG 2: Er, please hold on a moment, I'll check with the engineers.
Ok, so I admit I sounded quite sharp here and instantly regretted my tone as soon as I blurted it out, but I was just caught by surprise by her ridiculous answer. I mean, seriously, the camera is less than a year old and I'm never to use it again because there's no way to charge the battery? You'd be appalled, too, right?
SCG 2: Ok, you'll have to bring your charger down to the service center. Just ask for Sylvia or Donna. They know about your case. We will place an order for the charger for you.
Me: I see, ok, thank you very much for your help.
I got the rest of the details from her. What worried me was that Sylvia and/or Donna were going to know me as the freaky-guy-who-overreacted. Maybe they wanted me to come down in person so they could take pictures of me for the company's annual D&D where they'll showcase mean customers for a good laugh. For the sake of my camera I suppose I could live with that bad rep. The good news, though, was that the center, which had previously been located in a galaxy far, far away in Commonwealth, had been relocated to the more convenient Wisma Atria in town. 
So I guess it wasn't all bad afterall, but I'm crossing my fingers that this will be all I need to blog about it...