I had an excellent day. I cannot tell if this is me justifying my spiritually weak life as of now, but I think this day was more church then I have experienced since lunch with Erwin.I talked, I was truthful, I listened and I loved. It was great reconnecting with old friends and learning about their new lives.

Do you remember 'us'?
Of course. And it was precious. Kanbhik.

And there was the silent boyfriend, who was the steadfast pillar of my being. Who unquestioningly reaffirmed me, who watched with artistic appreciation as I lived my life, who stood by to hold, to tease, to complement, to laugh, to enjoy. He is, as of today, the amalgamation of my life's various frazzled energies and my journey-paths. I hope that as we grow forward, he'd set the direction for me to apply my spirit, and we'd soar and create things so much bigger then our individual selves.

This is how my boyfriend shows affection:

I need to realise that you're still a girl, and can be prissie, anal and difficult. Awwwwww.....

Uh, thanks... I think.

Of course I responded the compliment in kind by telling him that he was inconsiderate, insensitive and a complete moron. We both backed our cases with the same incident 3 weeks back.

I received a letter in the mail to go to a talk on Postmodernity, or something rather, with the TAGS family. And then another invitation for dinner with the family.

Well, I don't quite know where all this fits into my life now. I really appreciate my time with them, and what they have done for me. I think I will always have problems reconciling art in my life. Walking around Chinatown with Belmont, I realised that I had developed a sudden aversion toward the local arts scene. I remember watching TV with my mother when the commerical for some 'get-with-the-arts-scene' show came on. It featured a distasteful metro guy (quite repulsive actually) swearing that he's here to ensure we never waste money on trash music and a couple of puppets touted to be the toughest critics on the arts scene here in Singapore.

I cannot say that I have had an easier time with the arts in Canada. I was bowled over by their resource management and professionalism, but still felt that something was missing. I just think that with materialism being the ontology of our goddamn-everything, we'd be hardpressed to find art as true expression, seperate from the spirit of consumption.

When I think of the arts scene here in Singapore, I think of Salsa lessons, impeccable sundresses, wine and candles and starlight. And as I answered four years ago to Andrea's question: One word to describe our arts scene? Bourgeois.

But with regards to the TAGS dinner, I think I ought to go. It would be good, and at the end of the day, I'd really only avoid it to avoid Dennis. And that ought not be an issue.

The past

Come up to meet you, Tell you I’m sorry, You don’t know how lovely you are
I had to find you, Tell you I need you, Tell you I set you apart
Tell me your secrets, And ask me your questions, Aww let’s go back to the start

I was just guessin’, At numbers and figures, Pullin’ the puzzles apart
Questions of science, Science and progress, Do not speak as loud as my heart
Tell me you love me, Come back to haunt me, Oh when I rush to the start
Runnin’ in circles, Chasin’ our tails, Comin’ back as we are

Nobody said it was easy Aww It’s such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy No one ever said it would be so hard
I’m goin’ back to the start

Cold play ~ The Scientist

Sentimentality can be so unfair to the rest of the world. It's a selfish selfish thing that forces me back into the little imagined world of the past. Leaving the people who love me, and who seek to be true helpless and fearful. No one deserves this from me. I will not allow for such frivolity from myself. But although freedom did come, I doubt that my expected penance will be complete until more blood is shed, and from the right wounds.

Life is very very pretty now.
It's very full.

I thought I was melancholic in dispostion, but then I realise that I really am not.
I can be very satisfied with the simple.
Like my mother and grandmother, I make my own happiness.

Hell, I can find it under a rock.

I just kinda thought that a mundane report on my life on my blog was in order. A lot has been happening and not a lot has been going. The christmas musical has reached a mild crisis and we contemplated scrapping the entire thing for messiness and commitment issues. But I am glad that we are pressing on and trusting God. Only God can deal with this.

Sue is here, and it has been great just hanging out with her. Our laughter and nonsense is interspersed with life-shaping conversations. I have learnt a lot from her and am utterly blessed that she is here in my life. The time that we share with Belmont is also a great blessing. That she knows him, that they get along and laugh is a firm en-etchment of this relationship in my life in Canada. She, along with Majortom are the bridges between my two lives.

I've helped Dua Yi sell christmas trees again this year. This brings me back to the time when I was 10. Danny was there even since, and he's still here, a faithful twelve years later. The only difference it seems is that the oranments are classier and the patrons are more interested in colour schemes and style. But then again, I wonder if there has ever been sentimentality in commercialization at all.

I ran into a slight academic crisis. Apparently, I had handed in the wrong assignment. I did my essay on Lesson 6: religion. Of course, how could I pass that up? So I didn't, even when the assignment instructions clearly indicated that the material must be derived from Lesson 8-15. So obviously 6 was way off. I thought I had everything pat down till January, then my prof emails me to inform me of my mistake. But he was a sweetheart and instead of penalizing me for my oversight (I totally deserved a C for that) he allowed me to redo the work. That would otherwise have ruined my christmas.

To be more specific about Thursday's dinner with Dennis. Surfice it to say that it went eventlessly, with small talk and mindless chatter. But after, I wept for an hour while on the phone with Belmont. Tears that had no reason, althought Ziig suspects it's relief. And it was true. I had let go. And I had learnt grace. But although I had stepped through the opening, the door remains ajar. Sunday came and I refused to engage. But I doubt that these things work the way we want them to. It's alright. I don't need this anyway. If anything, I have learnt grace, and I might be more gracious to myself.

Alright. That's my life.
It's perfect.

OH! I'm only returning to Vancouver on the 6th of Jan, I guess all the coffeeing will have to be done over term-time.

ps Shu, don't worry, I will be living with my parents. Won't need to impose on you sweetie. :)