jeudi, mars 27, 2008 I whispered, "I am too young,"And then, "I am old enough;" Wherefore I threw a penny To find out if I might love. "Go and love, go and love, young man, If the lady be young and fair." Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, I am looped in the loops of her hair. O love is the crooked thing, There is nobody wise enough To find out all that is in it, For he would be thinking of love. Till the stars had run away And the shadows eaten the moon. Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, One cannot begin it too soon. - William Butler Yeats Libellés : literature [Brown Penny] |
samedi, mars 22, 2008 Overnight hike: From MacRitchie to Bukit Timah  With a little trepidation, I agreed to the venture - Jo said we needed to have some psychological prep for the April KK trip, which sort of made sense (although Darius just returned home from a sudden KK trip himself without any preparation whatsoever.We met at 11 at MacRitchie, and set of at 1130 by full moonlight. The path through MacRitchie to the Bukit Timah flyover took us through some really pretty scenery - still waters in the reservoir, and lovely golf greens (belonging to SICC?) Things were a little muddy at places, but the hike was mostly easygoing. We got to the ranger's hut at approximately 1am, then continued past Jelutong Tower onto Rifle Range Road. Walking along the road is worse than trekking because there's nothing going on - no roots to walk over, no uneven ground to navigate, no bogs to avoid. Just the long, endless road ahead. So discourteous it doesn't even wind a little. Rifle Range Road brought us into the Catchment Path (map on right), which we actually have to clamber into. Hidden right after the army ammunition depot, the entrance to the path is not well-marked (not at night, anyway), and I would not have known it was there, had we not turned into it. The Catchment Path led us uphill to the main road up to the Summit Hut. We then opted to walk along the main road to the Summit Hut, and took a 15 minute breather to rest. It was 330 then, and the moonlit summit was eerie, but still pretty. The wind picked up, and we got a move on before we caught a chill from the slight bite in the breeze.  We headed along the Rengas trail, towards Dairy Farm Loop. This is where my sense of direction breaks down, because it's dark, I'm tired, and there are plenty of people in front of me making the directional decisions. I think we hiked through Dairy Farm Loop a little bit, then turned back to the main road (red line). Finally, we went down to the Bukit Timah Visitor Centre, and ended the hike at 530am. We walked to have breakfast at Al-Azhar prata place opposite Beauty World, and finally hit the road home at 6am or thereabouts.
[Overnight hike: From MacRitchie to Bukit Timah] |
vendredi, mars 21, 2008  There are things to say, but oftentimes, very few places to say them.There are things to do, but many times, very little time to do them. There are people to see, but again, meeting up takes time and energy we don't always have. There is life to lead, but not enough life to live it. Libellés : thinking [Ceaselessness] |
dimanche, mars 09, 2008  Honestly, the line wasn't that iconic. No need to title something with it!Libellés : books, personal, writing [Wah lau] |
mercredi, mars 05, 2008 On blogging: New performances on the Internet Broadway All blogs are a performative space, in the same way that all publishing is performance. There is no such thing as the private word. All publishing is meant to be read. All publishing is performance. At the very least, there will be an audience of one, which is to say, that you perform (yourself) for yourself.In this age where we move blog addresses as easily as we change clothes, it's been interesting to see how many of my friends view starting a new blog as a milestone marker for their lives. Friends who went away on exchange started blogs - then came back home, and (re)started/continued blogs which had already existed. Friends who have had massive changes in life seasons closed old blogs, and started new ones. Friends who have self-reflexively used their blogs as performance spaces (yes, I'm looking at you. You know who you are.) The blog, as a neo-marker for identity shifts? Not that one changes over the period of a mouse-click, but rather, why the need to mark the changes in our life performances? Whither then, is identity? Whither integrity? (In response to thoughts on moving to a new blog.) [On blogging: New performances on the Internet Broadway] |
 "I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her."It was inelegantly phrased, was a sentiment borne of a callous and indifferent attitude, and smacks of an indecorous desperation. Why on earth did this turn of the phrase capture our collective imagination when Notting Hill came out? Leonardo_DiCaprio_Photo.jpg) And: thank God that Hugh Grant's pretty much given up the floppy hair. That's another 90's fad that we're all beginning to look back on with much amusement, and not a bit of chagrin (for the boys, at least!)Libellés : movies [A retrospective: Notting Hill] |
mardi, mars 04, 2008 When we grieve, we're told to cry.Perhaps, that's why we need the catharsis that entertainment offers - sad songs, sad movies, sad scenes. To mourn the dreams that daily die. Libellés : thinking [Mourning dreams] |
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