12.30.07
Camera Obscura
Yesterday I had a finished roll of film with me when I went to Parkway with the buds, so I dropped it off at the developer. Being new to photography, using a film SLR camera is really learning it the hard way – without instant previews, the learning curve is that much steeper.
It’s not that I want to be atas-old-skool; it’s just simply because I can’t afford a digital SLR right now (Abba, I know you’re hearing this! 2008 yes?) and the film cameras my family has were left behind by my father.
However, the one thing a DSLR (or any digital camera, for that matter) can’t replicate is the ‘not-knowing’ and the excitement of seeing your prints before you get them from the developers. I was just thinking of that essential difference between film and digital, technicalities notwithstanding, and how it possesses a few parallels with life. The digital – eponymous with the characteristics of the very times we live in, the ‘digital age’ – is instant gratification, what-I-want i-get-now, effective, in-the-moment; film, however, requires patience, is cultivated through experience and is a ponderous passage through time as one waits for a roll to be finished and subsequently developed.
These are idle thoughts, really, put down here for future reference – but in many ways we can see how technology has evolved with the shifting tastes and perceptions of the generation of the age. I remember reading somewhere that advances in technology, or inventions, are not the precursors that causes such cultural shifts, but rather, it is the reverse that is true. Technological innovation is the speculation of the continual, if volatile, change of societal perspectives, tastes and behaviours.
And I add further, possibly to the detriment of the credibility of my positing, that I read a statement by Iron Man and Mr Fantastic (superheroes, geniuses and impossibly rich in the Marvel universe because of their inventions) who said they were successful not because they were inventors or innovators, but rather because they considered themselves as futurists. Essentially, it was their uncanny anticipation of creating or inventing technology for society at large even before society knew they wanted or needed them.
This has been a large digression from talking about cameras, but I am encouraged nonetheless: for our God is a God who is not constricted by time and space. Jesus was punished for our past, present and future sins therefore paying for ALL our iniquities. And our salvation is not merely restricted to the forgiveness of sins, for His blood has granted us the righteousness of God and thus ALL the blessings of the righteous man.
The simple truth becomes clear: Jesus is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. The promises of God (the implication is wonderfully tremendous), is therefore not limited by time, space or chance. Because of the eternal and loving nature of Abba and the finished work of Jesus at the cross, the promises made unto us, the beloved, are irrefutable, irrevocable and always true.
But even if I forget all else, I just hold close in my heart that I am loved. By God himself. And I carry on.
Anyway! Here are pretty pictures to look at over that sudden and unplanned flurry of words written on an empty stomach.
These are just previews from the developed roll; I’ve just sent in another three rolls to be developed after I collected these:
12.29.07
I Am Legend: Afterthoughts
On Thursday a bunch of us caught I Am Legend at Vivocity’s GVMax theatre.
This isn’t a review, though without explaining too lengthily why, I’d give it 3.5 out of 5 stars. I don’t think it’s an entertaining film where you leave your brain at the theatre doors; rather, it’s one that makes you think. However, the final act of the film is a letdown - yes there’s lots of Hollywood action schlock, yadda yadda plus a convenient ending that will no doubt appeal to the mainstream moviegoing audiences at large.. but the first two acts makes it worth watching, especially if you’re a sci-fi buff.
Warren Ellis once quoted from Frederik Pohl who said, “Science fiction is way of thinking about things”.
If you look at the history of sci-fi you will realise how the technology imagined within the stories have now become a reality.. so the suspension of disbelief necessary for the premise of I Am Legend becomes a way of thinking, “What If?” and not quite so far from the world at present.
Interestingly enough, there was a trailer of Stephen King’s The Mist played before the film, which was basically about a group of people trapped in a store because of a mysterious ‘mist’ of killer insects. I first came to know of this story when I read an interview with comics writer Mark Millar or Brian Michael Bendis, I can’t quite recall; but what struck me was how he shared about how he was similarly inspired by Stephen King’s ‘method’ when it came to crafting a tale: taking an ordinary event, such as going to the grocery store and coming up with random events that turn it into something out of the ordinary. In this case, King asked, “What if all the people who went into the store were trapped in it by an attack of killer insects?”, thus giving birth to the idea for The Mist.
While the horror film genre has largely descended into pandering to the appetites of the mainstream film audience, I always felt that the best kind of spine-chilling horror would be clever and witty – through which it reveals that the real horrifying stuff is contained within the human condition. All the supernatural gaggle that accompanies it are just useful plot devices or metaphors.
The heart of I Am Legend deals with isolation, whether imposed or chosen, and explores its terrifying consequences. Will Smith is excellent in expressing Dr Robert Neville’s mental unhinging as the toll of his guilt and obsession wears down his resolve and humanity. Having lost his family as a result of his actions, he has no emotional anchor. Without fellow human beings, he loses sense of who he is at the core of his being.
It is a stark reminder of our own mortality and existence. It just simply reminds me of how much I need Jesus as my anchor. How much I need the Word to define who I am in Christ. How important are the brothers and sisters around me who sharpen me and allow me to learn.
12.27.07
Mad CG Christmas Dinner
I didn’t realise it’d be my last CG until later, but even so my spirit is not dampened. I love this bunch of people, having seen so many people come and go, but I know the Lord always brings us higher and higher. We’ve grown our roots and foundation in this place, before we leave to bless another. It has been good preparation.
It was a simple time at Villa Marina.. nothing fancy, some of us bringing food that we made.. such as Diana’s shepherd pie and roast chicken, Melissa’s calzonies, Esther’s strawberry jam and my ’secret recipe’ steak. The rains came and while we could not enjoy dinner by candlelight, I think the huddling into the small hut served its own purpose.
This is how I’ll remember the CG by.. lots of love and laughter, with no pretenses.. the following link has a video shows you a part of it.. it’s a tad long to load, but entirely worth it 
12.25.07
Christmaaas!
I had a good sleep last night recharging the ol’ batteries after writing the previous post. Went over to Yoshie’s place to spend Christmas day with Yosh, Yukie, ZK, Hanyang, Cindy, Mabel and Yingling and Winnie who came later.
It was good, simple fun as we played Nintendo Wii, kept badgering ZK to play Love Actually instead of A Scanner Darkly (unsuitable content for Yukie) and his Studio Ghibli collection, marvelling at Yoshie’s spider-hamster and making pancakes. Yoshie also showed us an amazing 110 film cube-shaped camera smaller than a box of 35mm film that she’d brought back from Japan.
I later came home and found my mum had been making egg custard tarts:
Fresh from the oven, the crust was crispy and sat warm and happy in my palm. Now forget everything else, every fancy dessert or pastries-of-the-moment, this kind of freshly-baked home-made tarts just trumps all of that. And then some.
Love you, mum.
It’s Christmas
It’s 12.01am on the 25th of December, 2007.
And it is Christmas.
No twinkling lights or glittering trees with tinsel hanging from its branches. No laughter or the tinkling of flute glasses against each other in toast.
Just like in Bethlehem more than two thousand years ago, today is a quiet night. I walked to my room’s window, leaned on the sill and stared at the sky. I looked at the full moon, so bright and proud, silent in the distance. There are no stars tonight; clouds fill and drift, slow and languid, through the expanse of the sky beyond me.
I closed my eyes and whispered, “Happy birthday, Jesus.” So there I was, only a boy and all alone in the world, celebrating my own quiet Christmas with Jesus.
I’d been craving for this solitude ever since I returned from Adventure Camp as I’d been whirled into a flurry of activity as soon as I stepped into my home on Friday. I need this; to slow down, stop and go back into my Saviour’s arms. More than I need life, or riches, or glory, I need Jesus. And on Christmas I am reminded again of Love come down as Man to rescue me.
Sleep tugs at my eyelids and I want so much to crawl into bed and sleep until morning, but I am compelled to write this before I do so. My heart is so full from what I received from Adventure Camp that begs to be written down and shared, but today is Christmas, and on Christmas I remember you, Jesus.
You who took every stripe, every blow, every pierce for me. You who suffered the most unimaginable degradation and humiliation and had every shred of dignity torn from you, so that I could restored in every way in fullness and to overflowing abundance. You never let go of me as you raised me from the abyss to sit beside you in glory and honour. How can I go on in this life without You?
There is something magic about Christmas and I love it every time it comes around. I like making cards, even as ugly and unassuming they always turn out. I will write long notes and draw a little something on the inside. That is usually the extent of my art & craft abilities, but it always makes me smile when I think about the person receiving the card and how it might make the other person smile as well.
Someone remarked to me once that making a card, writing long notes and decorating it with drawings ‘reeked of desperation for acceptance’. But I disagree. It has nothing to do with desiring to fit in or to feel that I belong; I do this, ‘without hope or agenda’, simply because I want to. For someone like me who so often feels so inadequate in conveying my heart through my speech, I write, and in a card, you write. Writing for me is akin to putting my heart on paper and saying all that I can or want to, where I feel the most free in expressing the thoughts and intentions that are contained within me.
This year, I rushed home after the CG dinner to finish the cards. I wrote and drew and inked and folded until 5.30 in the morning. As I scribbled on Desmond’s card, lying on my stomach on the floor, I fell asleep, tired beyond imagination. I awoke later at 7 to resume my work in earnest, finishing the rest of the cards. I was only able to leave the house at 9.45am, reaching the Indoor Stadium only to find a queue that was barred from entering the venue. As tempers began to fray from the long wait, I heard the sweet sound of Coach Angie’s voice emerging from within the stadium and filling the air.
I told Him, “Even if I’m standing here and not inside with the rest of the church, I can still worship You right where I am, Abba.” And immediately, a cool breeze blew in from the waters of the bay and I felt His sweet presence rushing in to embrace me. Standing there with a hundred other strangers with a secret smile on the inside of me, I never felt that I was missing out or was being shortchanged.
I was just glad to be there and to be able to give the cards I’d made for my brothers and sisters. (And even if you didn’t receive one from me, it doesn’t mean you mean anything less)
But fret not; I’m not saying all this to glorify myself or the effort I’d put in. I speak from a heart that has been restored and renewed and filled to overflowing by Jesus. I simply act from what He first placed within me as He loved me to wholeness and abundance. I have no expectation of recompense, for that is not the heart of giving.
It all comes back to Jesus, for I speak now from a transformed heart. And through a simple and flawed Christmas card that is not so much different from the many you have already received, what I would wish for you to remember is not this man who writes here; what I wish for you to remember is that you have been a tremendous blessing, whether subtle, unvoiced or still left unsaid, to a man who had once passed through a season of your life.
Thank you for blessing me. Merry Christmas.
12.13.07
Must Love Dogs
This week, I have two new friends sleeping in my room – nothing scandalous, as they’re Asterix and Maeby (inspired by the Arrested Development character). Asterix is the black mini-schnauzer I wrote about before, while Maeby is a three month old Maltese. My brother and sister-in-law got her a couple months ago, and yesterday was the first time I saw her.
Asterix then:
Asterix is now much bigger, but you can’t really tell here:
Tricking Asterix into not moving by waving a doggy treat in other hand
Because of the constraints in the living room, we had to set up the pen in my room. However, they don’t like being cooped up in that small space, so I let them have free rein in my room at night. When Maeby looks at you with her puppy-dog eyes, how can a man resist?
Can’t resist those puppy-dog eyes!
I don’t think you can tell how tiny she is – she’s easily three or four times smaller than Asterix, though she’s absolutely unawed by his size. She also enjoys lying in front of doorways, but she has already found her favourite spots in the house.
Curled up in one of her favourite spots
We haven’t had to take care of a dog ever since Marco, our black pug, more than ten years ago – and while I was exhausted last night, I’m really getting to enjoy it, even though Asterix and Maeby as as manja as caninely possible.
This is despite the fact I stepped on dog pee less than fifteen minutes after letting the two of them run riot in the flat. That.. experience has made me a great deal more cautious about walking about the house.. I also awoke this morning to find that Asterix had pooped on my room floor – which explained why he was so affectionate in the morning and pretending that all was right with the world.
Speaking of the morning, I felt someone “kissing” me on the face as I was sleeping – and when I opened my eyes, I saw Asterix’s jubilant face over mine. Seeing that I was ‘awake’, he promptly leapt up the bed and bounded on my stomach, started gnawing on my blankets and licking my face incessantly. I sat up and saw Maeby on the floor (she’s too tiny to stand and place her forepaws on my bed), sitting on her hind legs and giving me her best puppydog expression.
It was time for their breakfast.
Also tricked into not moving with doggy treat in other hand
I’ve learnt a couple of things about them – for example, Asterix loves to be close to and wherever his “owner” is. I’m only technically a custodian, so I suppose he sees me as his “owner” now that my brother and his wife are away. For example, if I’m at my desk, he comes and lies down beside me, hardly further away than arm’s reach. If I’m lying on the floor, he’ll come and snuggle beside my legs or body.
Maeby, however, is very curious and clever – she likes poking around the nooks and crannies of the house and curling up in them. She absolutely loves soft things – such as her ‘bed’ (a big cushion, really) – and likes to perch her head to rest on them, with her body on the floor, or simply just sprawling on top of it. For example, she’ll be extremely restless if I try to have her snuggle up beside me while I’m seated or lying on the floor, and try to squirm away. But when I place her on my bed, she immediately flops down and nestles her head on my arm or chest. Really heartmelting stuff.. haha!
So it’s been less than a day but I love them already; I’m glad I haven’t decided to get a dog because I know I wouldn’t have the time to give them the proper care. It’s a bit sad that the government doesn’t allow Welsh Corgis in HDB flats though (Cowboy Bebop fans will understand).
One more thing on the ‘wishlist’, then: must love dogs!
P.S Crappy quality photos is attributed to my using the phone camera, because I don’t know where my digital camera is. I also had some trouble taking the photos because Asterix and Maeby tried eating my phone, thinking it was a nice new doggy treat.
12.09.07
All Night
All night I have been restless.
It feels as though the quiet has shattered,
And the stars have left their places
To leave me alone and silent in the dark.
She is not close by me,
And my soul feels as if it has lost her.
All night my mind has drifted
Floating on a sea of thoughts about you.
I wondered and I longed and I dreamt
That I felt the soft silk of your hair,
Wishing that I would not awake
And find to despair you were not there.
All night I have thought about you.
I open my eyes and close them again,
Still I see your face before mine.
I remember the silver line of your lips,
Each delicate curl of your lashes,
And tonight my heart looks for you.
All night I have stayed awake.
Though my eyes were fixed on the bare ceiling,
My mind wandered, following the breeze
That blew gently and softly over the grass,
And as that wind touched your fair sleeping face,
My thoughts touched you also.
* * * *
Old poetry that I dug up and made some small amendments to.
I think it doesn’t matter why or when I wrote this, because right now, your face is the only one I can see, or think of.
I really don’t know how you do it.
12.03.07
Mondays Again
It’s nice to see how my schedule for this month is settling itself. Just to establish some context – I have to work at least a day on the weekend, so you usually won’t see me on Sunday if I went for Arrow or vice versa.
Just today, I had everything settled without me going to swap schedules with my colleagues. Instead they came to me, and the days that I wanted free (like the Christmas Arrow service) all came along neatly without me lifting a finger. Despite this week being my turn for the afternoon to midnight shift, I can still go for caregroup on Friday, and attend the men’s meeting on Saturday (my first assignment!). Now I’m believing for the chance to attend the Christmas main service at the National Stadium..
I have to admit working at a place with shifts and schedules is tough. Many times I’ve had to forgo caregroup, ministry meetings or events, Arrow service and Sunday service because of it. I honestly don’t like it. The thought of changing jobs crosses my mind at least once daily but I get the impression to stay put, to stay put, to stay put.
It’s a very real walk of just leaning on Jesus’s bosom, because I’d probably end up foaming at the mouth in frustration if not for the daily gift of grace for each day. I really needed the hear the messages preached by Pastor Benjamin and Pastor Prince over the weekend. When we understand that we are loved by Jesus, it makes us more than who we are. Perhaps Jack Nicholson was right somewhat – love makes us want to be better men. And grace gives us the power and ability that is normally beyond our own, to do so.
Every night, as the days begin to the usher the end of the year and the beginning of a new one, I find myself completely broken. Utterly. I lie on the floor of the room, staring at the ceiling and trying to imagine the stars that lie beyond on my roof, or stand at my bedroom window with my eyes searching the midnight sky, and I realise how incapable I am. How small I am. How completely mystified by the meaning I am supposed to make of my life.
But this is, like Ladinsky wrote, when my need for God becomes absolutely clear. My self is broken down, but restored in love and grace. I know so little, understand even less, but the love of God sustains me, reassures me, strengthens me. Just as the song In Your Freedom goes.. I have nothing else that’s of worth to me. Only His agape love that grants me true freedom. Only Jesus who died at Golgotha and placed giants at my feet.
He is mine and I am His.
And the ordinary will be made the extraordinary.
