It's so majigcal!
February 13, 2006 in my Majigcal world:
Is this the beginning of the end?

I was looking though some of my old photos last night because I thought it was high time that I immortalised some of those memories in glossy kodak prints, and I came across the pictures that Lix, Mut and I were snapping at the old (and non-existant) Starbucks at Thomson Plaza when we went back to SNGS for last year's CCA fair. And goddamn, snapshots of last year and the times we spent together just started hitting me like tennis balls shooting out one of those annyoing practice machines, because those pictures were what I used to do up the layout of this blog, 10483653677 years ago.

And this space has been stagnant since the Observatory concert, since I started spending much more time with Teh Mushroom Gang and our plots and Girls' Day Out(s). Now I have a LiveJournal account, pinkpotplant (it was named after those bobbing plants sold in Minitoons/Action City, because I think the one in the pink pot is just adorable), and I haven't really gotten used to using LJ yet because, with Blogger, there is more annonimity, everything is so much more customisable and private. True, you can lock your entries in LJ, but I hate the standardised layouts and how everything is so rigid. I don't know, but I feel that my words flow more freely on this blog.

So should I continue with my sad existance on LJ, or revert back to my trusty blog? I don't know, I think I'll just post in both, LJ when I want to go public and blog when I want to have intimate conversations with my bodyparts.
"Hello leg, how are you?"
"Kinda squished, what with your jeans and the tiny leg room of this desk here. I'd seriously consider asking for a bigger workplace, if I were you."
"Well...perhaps squishing you will make you smaller."
"*mumblegrumblemumble*"
Riight. Now, as I was saying, I shall use this blog to wean myself off blogging and into LJ-ing. I still don't have to like the argleeeee templates of LJ and how irritating overrides and LJtags are though.

((Portishead's Glory Box was playing in the design studio a few minutes ago, and I almost LOLed when I remembered Kings of Convenience singing "Give me a reason to be....a woman.." Srsly. A good way to sell your records is to "confuse people about your sexuality". Thanks, dudes, for ruining a prefectly lovely song by doing a cover of it, and I really hope you guys do it at your concert.))

It's like what I talked about on my LJ (in a locked entry) about me having no personality now because I don't know how to distinguish my own choices from the choices my friends and I form as a group. It's like, everyone says LJ is so good and that I should just get an LJ, but honestly, I don't see the big thing about it. Actually, I find that some LJ-ers are more pretentious than bloggers, but hey we're all equaly guilty here of wanting public attention for posting our thougts on the internet so I'm not going to rant on it. But it is true that with the communities and friends and all the added bonuses of having real interctions with your readers on LJ, don't people do all they can to upkeep their online image and live happily in their online lives? How do you know that these people are for real? Sure they post photos, sure they're cool people who do cool stuff and have much better lives than you do, but then there's Photoshop, and that Panic! At The Disco song with the title Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes off. Actually, the same goes for bloggers...so the point of this is that there is no point. Let's just stop all this hypocrital flaming and pretend that we're blogging/LJing because we can't read our own handwriting and that we all want attention for being "brave" with our thoughts and our lives.

We're all going to hell for lying to the world, and I'll see you at the other side.

Edit: yarr sorry about the mix-up with the songs. *is sheepish*






October 28, 2005 in my Majigcal world:
Hurrah for free gigs! Nie, Alicia and I went to a gig by The Observatory on Wednesday night, and it was fan-ta-bulous! It's great to just sit so close to the stage and watch their every move, and feel the vibrations of music pulsing through my body. I found it so miraculous that I could see music being made, and that the rhythm could be seen in the air around us. It's more than just sound emanating from twin speakers, it was like watching performance art when you see the beginning, climax and ending developing and evoking emotions by hitting your senses directly. Not that their music is the best I've ever heard, but it is the experience of live gigs which makes music so powerful. Watching The Observatory live, observing (no pun intended) the way they react to the music and then becoming part of the music itself, was really, for lack of better words, far-out. Loller.


Nie said that when the music "Dun! Dun! Dun!" our hearts also go "Dun! Dun! Dun!" :D


And on Wednesday, I lao kui so many times in the MRT omgs.
The first time: I wanted to take a picture of the signboards at AMK for PW, then thie old ah-pek came and stood right in front of my camera. I thought "Fine lah, you want to be in the picture also can. Shows how small you are compared to the signs." And then I happily pressed the trigger. !FLASH! Shit I RAN halfway across the whole station in my dress and shiny slippers because I was so afraid the old man would see me. And then I walked a few rounds round the station, trying to act as if nothing had happened. HAHA.
Second time: This is the most hilarous one of all. We three were supposed to change train from Clementi to Jurong East after the concert right, but in the Jurong East train at the very last moment we decided that we wanted to get out and wait for the next train. "Dididididididid!!" The door started closing! Nie and Alicia managed to get through, while the MRT door CLOSED ON ME omgs. I panicked and tried to push the door open with both my arms and one leg! Nie pulled me through at the last moment, and we all collapsed on the platform floor laughing like crazy. XD The uncle standing next to us was laughing too! And all the people on the train just stared at me like I just grew feathers and an extra head. :P
Third time: Okay this one is not so bad, but it showed how delirious and high we all were at by the end of our Girls' Night Out. At Yio Chu Kang, I was standing at the MRT door (got phobia already loller), waiting for it to open. I finally got impatient and knocked on the door. This is a basic human response to a door that won't open, right? But it was an MRT TRAIN DOOR leh. And there I was, banging on that stupid door while Nie and Alicia laughed at me again. -_-"


I should just go get a paper bag and hide under it for the rest of my life right.


Last night Nie came over for dinner! But she was stuck here until 11 because of the zoo that was raining down on us. And then she forgot to return me my money. Silly womang. Haha! :P We should have fun and go crazy like this more often. Btw, when is teh Sleepover??






September 09, 2005 in my Majigcal world:
I love the rain. I love the sound of it's silver bullets disentegrating into a merucy pool when it hits the concrete road. I love the sexy rumble of thunder. I love the gray clouds, the piercing flashes of lightning, the way the trees dance. I love the sprays of water when cars drive into puddles - they grow wings and almost fly.


I want to go outside and dissolve into a homogeneous mixture with nature.







Death. Why are people so afraid of it? Are they scared of feeling pain, of leaving things undone and words unsaid? Or are they just scared of the unknown?
That's such typical human behaviour isn't it? To be afraid of the unknown.
Why not embrace it? See death as the opening of another door, the start of, ironically, a new life.

After all, religion has taught us that death is not the end.
People who believe in God know that there is a Heaven and a Hell, maybe even a Purgatory. Where all the world's dead dwell for eternity, judged by their lives on earth whether it is in an eternity of joy or suffering.
Buddhists believe in a judgement as well. The 18 levels of Hell, depending on the severity of our sins, await them. Then there is a Heaven for the truely good, before they are sent to have their memories erased and be reincarnated back on Earth.


The Angel of Death holds hands with Justice, and the people on Earth fear them because they are afraid of being...judged?


What if I told you that there is no judgement? And what if I said that life does go on after death, but just not as the life we are living now? What if I say to you, "Your human life is not your only one" ?


Would you still fear death then?


O living always, always dying!
O the burials of me past and present,
O me while I stride ahead, material, visable, imperious as
ever;
O me, what I was for years, now dead, (I lament not, I am
content;)
O to disengage myself from those corpses of me, which I turn
and look at where I cast them,
To pass on, (O living! always living!) and leave the corpses
behind.
O Living Always, Always Dying
Leaves of Grass, Walt Whitman






September 06, 2005 in my Majigcal world:
Yesterday I caught a skin disease during the AEP TieDye Workshop. My hands looked like a car had run over them, and the rest of my arms, face and neck were covered in spots of turquoise, brilliant pink, mexican red and shades of blue. Don't ask me how, but I even had a blue tongue. Don't worry folks, this illness will only affect those who attempt to tie and dye without wearing proper protection, a.k.a. gloves.


But it was supercrazylicious fun, all that tyeing and dieing. We were reunited with Charlene, had the whole day to get down and dirty, and came up with some fantastic works of art. I even won a box of Dove chocolates for my "scary" red & black shirt! Why "scary"? Because the circles looked like faces in an alien landscape, that's why. So different from the shirt I dyed in the demo video. *paws*






August 20, 2005 in my Majigcal world:
"...what is art to you?"
Good art doesn't have to be asthetically pleasing or decorative, it doesn't need to be a specific form or done by anyone special. As long as I can see the soul of the artist in a piece of work, it is good art.


When I say "I don't like this piece" while looking at a work of art, I have to push myself to answer the question "why?" Was it a gut feeling, an impulsive repulsion to what is presented to me? Mostly it's because I don't understand the piece, or that I can't feel any emotion that pulls me to like it. But sometimes it's just a superficial thing, where I look at the brushwork and the technique and something pushes me away. But good art, that's something else. It pulls me in, opens up into a memory and makes me feel exactly what the artist was feeling while creating it. And then I have to pull myself out before I sink too deep, but I am scarred, and then my life will have changed forever. I'm not over-dramatising things, there are no words to describe how much a powerful piece of work can affect me.


We're studying Edvard Munch. His works are so deeply touching and powerful, full of sadness, and full of subtleties which make his art part of the few pieces which can actually make me cry. Through the layers of paint, we feel his loneliness, his loss, his grief. These emotions can transcend time and space to touch us so deeply now, 100 years after his death and at the other side of the world. It's amazing, and so beautiful...


That's the kind of art I want to make. 100 years later, people don't have to know my name, they don't have to know about my life or what I have achieved. All I want them to know is that a work of art, done by a girl in Singapore, made an impact on the world. And I'd want that girl to be me.