my new love



Taksim Square, Istanbul. One of my favourite areas in Turkey - European and Asian at the same time.



I made my mind up about three things during my Turkey trip in April this year:

1. I am proud to be an Asian girl.
2. I am learning Japanese.
3. I am going to take awesome photos.



Japanese Script - Katagana

And so after I came back from my 10 day trip (albeit 1.5 days of work included), the first thing I did was to sign up for a Japanese class. Loving it. Part vanity, part curiosity drove me to this decision. My time in Turkey was charming, mysterious yet violent in a quiet storm kind of way. So much happened and yet I brought back with me the fond memories, blocking out the disastrous. There was alot of attention on me as I travelled around the country, alone for a while and later with a companion, and my Asian feminity was complimented upon which made me proud to be Asian. Of course, most Turkish people can't tell the difference between Koreans, Japanese and other Asian people  and I was on many occasions greeted with enthusiastic "Konichiwa"s. I corrected them gently that I was "Singaporean" (that drew a blank for most people of course).

I met a number of fellow Japanese travellers during the trip and their dry humor and polite manners charmed me so. One traveller, Tanaka-san was a surgeon from Tokyo, who offered my companion and me his friendship - I've got a 5 Yen coin from him to prove it. There was also a Turkish guide with him who was fluent in Japanese and according to his colleague, spoke more Japanese than Turkish due to his work. The whole experience made me feel closer to my North Asian counterparts and I resolved to be able to converse in a number of Asian languages.

So many interesting things happened on my Turkey trip but I shall address them in bits and pieces in my stories. It's one of those trips which change the traveller's perspective in such a myriad of ways that it's never possible to chronicle all of it in one post without feeling like it isn't complete. I am dying to talk about my climbing atop the ruins of the temple of Zeus and Athena, my Egyptian friend Amr who might or might not have had designs on me, getting lost on a Turkish road and meeting a Turkish boy who called after us to speak to us in Mandarin. Or the poor but shrewd Turkish little boy in Kusadasi who had a weighing machine as his livelihood. Or the violent way in which my innocent wish scribbled at Virgin Mary's house was immediately fulfilled. But those for another time. Back to my life-changing decisions back home.



Wonderful scientific invention. Muack!



The second thing I did when I came back was to buy a Clarisonic from Sephora. It's giving me the most perfect skin ever, sans makeup. I've made up my mind never to share the secret of my undying youth should ageing friends ask me years down the road, and this is the only time I'll reveal it. So there. You can't be too generous with information. My quest for eternal beauty never stops.



My Sony Alpha 57 is a real babe - inside out.

 The third exciting thing that I did was to buy my first DSLR over last weekend. Love at first shot, and I got a pretty good deal at MS Color with an additional Potrait lens included, on top of the basic kit lens. Wonderful pictures with every shot! I can barely contain my excitement and trigger-happiness. My travels and memories shall be recorded beautifully and artistically from now on. Moved by beauty, I seek to recreate and grasp her at every turn. Not too obsessively of course, just enough to bring me joy and satisfaction.

being alive, with colours and individuality

i'd very much rather stare at the computer till my eyes hurt than actually sleep when i'm dead tired since 2.5 hours ago. i know i deserve all the dark eye rings and eye bags in the world but too bad i'm endowed with youth and not-bad genes and those things don't get me so easily. right now i'm just thinking about how to use an eyeliner properly to get a rather sweet gothic look like the girl on the far left of the picture. (i don't really care very much about the other rather pointless pair of pictures.) makeup is my new love ever since starting temp work. it changes the way you look, but more importantly, it changes how you feel. it's a beautiful colourful day when i look through my 12-colour palette of eye shadows and decide whether to be a lilac butterfly or a brown racoon. it captures my imagination and expresses my creativity; yes, all in the process of choosing colours and styles to present to the world. makeup does not equal vanity my dear friends. they are like the colours of the rainbow to enthrall and inspire, the paint colours on the palette of a pensive artist to translate the overflowing reservoir of heaven in his breast. if art is spiritual, so must the trade of beauty creation be.

On a more intellectual tone, i have been reading Affluenza by Oliver James to satisfy my book hunger. how can i ever live without books and ideas?

besides the aesthetic reason of how i adore the cover picture of 2 zombified beautiful city dwellers, what Oliver expounds in his book about the Virus-infected English speaking cities (including Singapore) is superbly interesting. Sadly, Tzing was not too impressed nor intrigued when i was sharing (albeit a little too briefly) about his finding about how focusing on being beautiful rather than attractive is much healthier and more intrinsically motivated and hence gives you better emotional well being. well, it's common sense to know that you're always happier when you're not trying to please everyone in the world, but i've never truly separated being beautiful from being attractive. most people, like me, will probably intuitively think that they are one and same. he raises the very poignant example of how Russian and Danish women are the most beautiful in the world (seriously, i never knew that before reading the book but apparently, it's a known fact in the Western world.) but miniskirts and low cut tops are not found in their fashion encyclopedia. think individualistic, personalized, tasteful clothings mixed and matched that DON'T cost $60 a piece, mass produced in Zimbabwe and shipped over to Zaras and Mangoes going on sale in Singapore. i've always been disgusted by the state of fashion in Singapore. I'd rather dress plainly in clothes that are flattering for me and feel comfortable than trash my money on clothing that are skimpy, overpriced, mass produced and devoid of personality. Oliver's theory is that Russian and Danish women, unlike the Virus-stricken (materialism) women in developed cities, have learnt to express their beauty and creativity in their appearance, instead of using appearance to impress others or to attract men. this is why their beauty radiates from within.

Pretty cool thought huh? Oliver writes much better and interestingly of course. and every page reads like a vaccine for myself and helps me to dig deeper to discover what is truly important to me and authenticity ranks tops. To be true to who i am, what i feel, what i think, what i believe, to all those who cross my path and whose paths i cross. of course, that presupposes a simultaneous process of improving that authentic self; less selfishness, less materialism, less pretense, less hedonism, less directionless, less introspection. work in progress, that's what i am.

And don't ask me why i address Oliver James by his first name. i don't want to tell you that i neurotically treat all good writers as my personal friends. shhhhhh.

the poet.

"What is a poet? He is a man of religious experience whose creative gift enables him to communicate spiritual truths to men. His poetry can bring deliverance from spiritual death, bringing his hearers to a new knowledge of their divine Creator, who gave him this special power. In this way souls that have been disordered can be healed, and the human relation with God may be restored when it has been impaired...This is the fruit and indeed the purpose of music and poetry, direct gifts from God to mankind."

-- Elizabeth Henry, Orpheus and His Lute

the music of the soul

the soul's longing demands from me a dance, a jubilation of being alive, of being carefree, of being just in the moment. And such moments are private, intense yet light; the joy of a heart immersed in artful solitude. It's February, a time to dream, to time to live and laugh and cry where the "real" world of demands don't matter, and i live within my own head.

February, my love.

It's already February, but it only seems that the year only started off sparkling new now. perhaps because Chinese New Year has always been a more proper reference point for me rather than Jan 1, or perhaps because February is always a special month for me. Not least because it's my birth month.

But more importantly, February, is the month to dream, where anything goes. The epitome of "Dreams are the blueprint of the life".

Associated with Feb is also a sense of romanticism and wistfulness about it, being a month shorter than all the others, being a season that allows one to dream, without all the rush of January, all the laze and excitement of june and july, all that solemn reflective mood of November and December.

I've been dreaming alot, with some of those vague dreams taking place slowly in fast paced January. Surrounded myself with some beautiful things, getting my body in check with exercise, taking care of a shell to house a beautiful soul. There has been too much talk of inner beauty for those who shun the pain of never feeling adequate; it's more accurate to speak of a beautiful house for a beautiful soul, but not before we figure out that beauty on the outside is not a definition monopolized by images of magazine cover models or painted faces on the television.

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight.

1 Peter 3:3-4

Beauty shouldn't be divisible into outer and inner regions, but an inner quality, an inner confidence of one's worth that radiates from the inside out. The origins are deep, but manifestations outward as well. An overflow not unlike the love of God that doesn't cease its flow in the face of tribulations and trials. There is a certain timeless quality about that beauty that captivates and attracts unknowingly. But there is a time and season to be acutely aware of that beauty that radiates outwards, so that one may learn how to graciously be the vessel of beauty to the world.

i constantly fight the battle that makes me feel like Frankenstein. i never know quite what to feel from my own reflection from reflective surfaces in shopping malls. Sometimes exuberant others despondent. But it is an inner fight of definitions and belief systems that have malfunctioned. Time to renew, time to move on, time for some redefinition. and hence, Romans 12:2 rings out.

Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.

There are many things to dream about. I dream of travel, love, beauty. Honestly, the three areas are not that distinct from one another. I ask myself if I could be ready to be mundane and ordinary at this stage of my life. Of marrying a regular good boy, having a few kids to occupy mt time, getting by with some finance-related job or even to be a tai tai whose occupation is a languid afternoon with tea and tai-tai friends whilst my kids play with my pals' kids... and the answer is no. and i fear that i can't be satisfied with that in foreseeable future. A part of me too intense, too flighty, too ambitious, too romantic and too fluid with that kind of security. i need to gravitate towards excitement and uncertainty. Until that happens, my soul feels a little too empty.