V-V-V....GRUNDY!!!

*sniff* I miss TSD. Just read ling's blog: V-V-V....GRUNDY!!!


I was sitting in the workshop, fiddling on Megan's guitar surrounded by juniors. Juniors playing cards, juniors stoning, juniors sharing, being oh-so-close and hippie-like. That is how it's supposed to be. At ease, in love, in life.

Things haven't really changed. The funiture is falling apart, there are dangerous sharp corners everywhere, things aren't kept properly, tattered props, bits of things once recognisable not just faded bits of memories, old props which under creative fingers morphed into new props, there are crummy messages on the the white board, "now that your exams are over, please do a clean-up to make this place LIVEABLE and keep it that way" a smirk found it's way from my lips to my heart, it's never going to stay clean dammit, oh and i still haven't found my pouch... ugh, forget it, it's eaten up by the mess anyway.

Ahhh, and there were little archeological finds, proving Grundy's existance. The gaudy red and gold "Shuang Si" our golden claypot, that we never used... *sniff*

I miss all the late nights, microwave dinners of left-overs, boasters, The AVA, The Sound Room, The Studio, the goddamn temperature! Nothing beats AVA, Sitting around in nothing but short shorts and thin tees, surrounded by metal, 5 degrees above freezing, then running out to defrost...

I miss the call of the AVA, one place i fell in love with. I have always been afraid of the dark, and the darkness in AVA is suffocating. But after a while, once she has accepted you, the darkness becomes a cradle. I knew i found a home last year, doing shawn's piece. Standing in the right wing, blinded by the light (if i remember, it's sub-master 11 or 12) with a candle in front of me. Whilst waiting for my turn to deliever my lines, i felt my fear falling behind me, as if someone were unshrounding me, removing my cloak from behind. From that point on, I have never been afraid of the AVA... (ok maybe i have, but that's only because I'm worried that some previous group might have left their props beind, had it been something along the lines of bloodied wombs i don't think i would have survived)

I miss having Tandoori at 9 pm, I miss threatening Andy with good ol' gaffa tape (and how we worshipped gaffa!) Discussing chilli crab dinners in this presence. I even miss getting pissed at each other, for mucking around, for being too demanding, for being too slow, for calling the shots, but we knew that we loved each other.

I miss Ling's laughter, especially when she gets high, I miss Jiayin's horrified expression everytime we suggested doing something out of her comfort zone. (like the suggestion that she does my role as Sa-man-tha! Boob tube and all) All our cravings, bubble tea, chocolate, tandoori...

I miss the studio, the soft jaundiced light, how everyone looked like glass in the mirror. I miss how she played mother to us, her walls, acted as a refuge, where we could discover ourselves, devluge our deepest fantasies bring out the deadliest facets of our characters, and yet leave, knowing more then we ever could have had we gone another way, yet not being crushed by the weight of that knowledge. The air in the Studio is rich with experience, she has seen all, blood, abuse, love, hatred, fear, sex, all in one room - she is the bearer of human experience, and all our secrets are safe with her, group after group, will shed their tears and blood and they will change.

I miss the school by night, the empty bus stops, the sleepy energy that courses through the compound, the shadows and lights seem to flirt with us the night breeze through the plants on the other side of the fence.... while we painted and sang, folded bits of wire and talked, cut things up, sewed, cried, fought.

I miss escaping school and classes and assembly and running to hide in the studio, there was an understanding with the school, never come to the studio, that was our Pope's palace of the college, sacred and exclusive, to us.

I won't miss the college, the classes, the people. I'm happy to leave them all behind. But TSD, it will take time to come to terms with my loss, to understand that I have got to move on and yet never let to go, it would be impossible not to cry. For letting us be who we are without fear of criticism, for letting us develop and grow without hardening our hearts. For all that she has done for us. And for all of you.