a distant dream

I want to live free..

To find myself.

To marvel at the world and kneel humbly to its creator.

To fall in love with life and to dance outside the context of a degenerating society.

jazz for a rainy afternoon

Happy holiday! The monsoon is here, so it's raining beautifully outside again & we are all relaxing, taking a day off from our knee jerking morning routines at the desk aren't we?

As at this moment, i am absolutely relaxed. Really just chilling out. It's cold & gorgeous, i've got a playlist of the best jazz for this weather, i'm not fussing about not having any plans or if i would get to run at all today.. i'm going to just cruise through the afternoon, feeling so blessed.

Ahh.. indeed, the best things in life are free.

Here's some superb music that can't be anymore apt for this surreal afternoon. So go on, dim the house, have a cuppa, listen to the rain, kick back & relax. Here's to life, everyone.

have yourself some girly time, if you're feeling me

I've been feeling my way around solitude lately. Trying to find some space, trying to get centered and really just reaching deep into my soul to fling out a very bashed up Maria for a little chat. My mind is scattered & i'm not digging it.

For years, i've been on a roll to set the stage perfect so that the foundations of my life are powerful for me to grow forth from here. Don't get me wrong, i'm not complaining. I love living life on the fast lane and being unstoppable because time is most perishable. BUT.

I spent this year, making big decisions for my life. Huge. They materialised & i see the fruits of my labour. Now that i'm here at the summit of my own mountain, why don't i feel any different? I should be feeling extremely accomplished to have ticked almost everything on my life's list at my youth's peak, right? I don't.

I've learnt that i am fed up and simply exhausted because boy oh boy, don't i just love to vacuum the life out of myself? But these days.. Ahhh these days. I give up. I spend too much time shuttling between planning, being worried, trying to sort every single thing out..

Now, i'm going to cut the crap and eat the apples of my hard work.

Honestly, I can't remember the last time i told myself "do this, you DESERVE it" or submit to the temptations of splurging on myself just because. I can't remember the last time i did something pampering without feeling guilty. I can't even remember the last time i plucked my eyebrows correctly, what more perfectly. Heck, i don't remember the last time i felt like a queen. All dolled up, feeling like a million dollars, pampered even if for just a little while?

So guess what. I'm going on vacation though not literally. I'm going to put all that energy that i put on driving high speed through my life into MYSELF.

I'm taking many off days ahead to have 'me' time. To drop everything and listen to my own heart for decisions, to listen to my body for healing, to tap myself on the back for doing what i did right, to pray with gratitude for life but simultaneously break the monotony of it to be alive. Most importantly, to love me like i should be loved.

My mind, heart and soul is on a holiday.

Because hell yeah, i DESERVE it.

au revoir 2010; an open letter to myself

Dear Maria,

Let the world know that you did not depart the past year crippled by disappointments & betrayals, hard luck & setbacks, bad decisions & shortcomings. 2010 left you with scars aplenty but they exist only to remind you to wear them proud & as medals won. Besides, why pursue a battle if not to win? Let them know that glory is in the cradle of your arms because you understand those testing times provide the most holistic & nonpareil education for your soul to flourish & you chose to be the golden girl, the unflinching student, the best.

That year is gone. Another year you live & love. Lived & lost. The worst that you have had to live through, i'm sorry. I'm sorry if the world is designed so far beyond perfect & you cannot comprehend why good begets hate, loyalty begets treachery, & love begets unthinkable betrayal. You suffered much & deep this time but never for nothing. Let it go. To begin, you can never look back & pick a year that wasn't difficult for you. You were never shortlisted to be part of a population that is entitled to a life so easy to live. You know hardship like it is the veins of your hands.

Once again, you're a wounded dog crawling home today. But this new year, you bring home with you the prime concept of faith. I'm happy that you've found your spiritual self though you need to nurture it much more. You now recognise that being a slave is not below you if for the rightful master. So you bury your tiny feet into the earth to stay rooted & give your thanks.

What cannot destroy you, makes you stronger. As it is written, every test sent down is not one beyond your individual capacity to overcome it. The world is not unfair afterall, Maria. It's just in the way you perceive it. It's how foolishly or intelligently you choose to conquer it. There will be much more to come & you will again be battered but i promise you that it is worth it.

Believe that for as long as you have faith, you're invincible. Let the world try to trample you, tell them today that you will never be rattled.

This is your foundation. Happy new year to you.

a morbid recollection

My resolutions for 2010 is still work-in-progress. Oddly enough this time, i am critical and unrelenting. Looking at my posts these couple of weeks, i seem to haven't said much about the goings-on in my life except to drop a few daily inspirations. My guess did not take me very far, so a closer inspection revealed that the only plausible explanation would be that reservations have grown with age. And that my friends, is occurring rather rapidly. It is going to sound fairly depressing but months now feel like years and i'm weighed down by many worldly ideals that pair with being an adult. To further severe my case, i am a middle class kid who was granted the misfortune of having to be born into an expensive city. There is also no need to remind you that i am at the edge of the adolescent bluff. I'm 21 and even that is almost over.

So as my hunt for inspiration steadily came to a halting failure late yesterday, i logged into my old friendster account out of desperation. Have you seen it? Reckon it got bought over by another company and given a face lift. Not too shabby. It's not like i was sure why i did it but for whatever the reason is, it proved to be more than what i had originally bargained for. Trying to retrieve my first 100 comments was no use, i should've known that you can never trust sites like this with your priceless treasures i.e first 'testimonial' from your boyfriend which would've been whimsical to discover. Anyway, they're very capable of screwing everything up beyond repair, hence the makeover and new operation. (Note to self- watch out for Face Book)

Consolation was that i found my old blog. They've restored it with a tacky layout but otherwise, nothing's changed. The ghost of that blog beckons me to wander into the mind of 18 year old Maria, angsty and crazy in love, i did that for a good 3 hours. Well, it doesn't look like i've grown out much from my morbid disposition but i'm not worrying about that yet.

Younger Maria was detailed, she wasn't half as a caught up with the real world as i, obviously, so it afforded her time to think deep into pertinent details like her love and emotions or something that made her terribly upset that day. She was so sensitive and wouldn't allow anything that moved her get away without some kind of reaction. She was more delicate and indulged in her love for poetry and her craft but little did she know that soon after dwelling deep into art and injuring a knee, she'd develop an obsession for politics and culture shifts. I'd say those were the responsible factors that popped me out of my shell and here i am today, exiled from the innocent paradise that once existed in my head 3 years ago.

These days i corrupt myself with speeches from Malcolm X and Dada artworks while adversely channeling healthier inspirations and the things i love to do as a normal, functioning woman of the society into this blog to save my life and mind. While some remnants of younger Maria remained, many have changed forever. That is so to prepare for the real world that now welcomes me.

Going back to constructing my resolutions. Bet you didn't realise, i'm back at my ugly habit again and that's staying up into the small hours! Well anyway, Happy Friday! Weekend's here!

rough

Funked and disoriented so i'll be right back. See you honeys on the morrow! ♥

how're you? i'm uninspired.

I'm suffering from a bad case of writer's block. I can't seem to even score one sensible sentence without it sounding like an eight year old's take on a little known subject say.. politics? That i reckon could have easily been a much better job. Not nice.

My only inspiration (or the lack thereof) to counter this painful mindlessness is the decision to go pictorial for a bit until some madness befall me. When my head spins from the magical gush of inspiration and fireworks, we'll speak of Christmas, my life-changing trip to Indonesia and what else if not the much anticipated new year which by the way is looking like a cave of precious treasures from where i am at present.

This year has been a tragic one for many of us if not all. Guess it's safe to say that the mishap army might just send a few more soldiers in so let's buckle up and fight the war to stay positive. I haven't come to a confident conclusion of why that is so and i'm beginning to suspect that the economic crisis is anything but a legitimate reason. Can't be too sure of that either.

Good to know that the days are numbered. I am in the process of gathering a few ideas for the new year and actively working on my resolutions. I won't forget to share that with you beautiful people before the year comes to a close. Let's all look forward and march into the new year with courage and hope.

Thank you for encouraging me to blog and staying put through many months of absence. Know that some of the best friendships began right here in this almost anonymous, humble little blog of mine. Have a wonderful weekend everyone! xx

just what i need, the beautiful rain

(here)

It's finally raining and oh i miss the rain. Just looking out the window and smelling the rain is therapy on a whole new level already. I am so tempted to get Yas out of bed for a stroll in the rain with me.

My dears, we all have good weeks and bad ones. The last couple of weeks has made me much less of a warrior and honestly, i am tired and not feeling much like myself. For the many of us who were never born a positive person, cultivating it isn't the simplest thing to accomplish. Very much like fighting a war within yourself. I am so determined to keep charging forth and get through this tough time. Go over the hedge and emerge victorious.

Till then.

Have a glorious week, my loves.

staying in

I hope to sleep in these next few days and get better. This fever is unpredictable and I am miserable wondering if I'm recovering at all. On a separate note, I have all these fun projects in my head for the horror movie marathon this weekend. Let's see how that goes.

Kicking the addiction. Evidently it is not the easiest pursuit. Many times, inflicting harm on oneself is as seductive as it is stupid. Why is it so hard for me to love me?

young artist

No less vividly, i remembered the incessant nursings of my dancing self just a little more than a year ago, pursuing the hopes of emerging an artist. The sore body, the bruised ego, adhering to a strict diet, the extinguished strength, depleting confidence, the fragile mind, the broken heart, the scattered soul. I, just like many others, took the plunge and decided- this is what i need, this is what i want to do, this is all i want to be, this is me and i am not in my skin if not here.

Art is a one way ticket, it's not even like going to war, you climb into the magic school bus and you're not coming back. Getting there or otherwise, will never matter. There is no turning back, you're never coming home to the pre-decided you. Go on and run but hiding is tomfoolishness at its best. Much of your life will either suffer or rejoice from this altered routine. You leave it and it comes searching for you, almost haunting, carrying all the impact of a restless spirit. With what little i know of art, i know this much well enough.

Infusing the maelstrom of events that followed since welcoming a new head of department and that unfortunate accident equating to a busted knee of close to an eternity, this fat cow of a kid upped and left. One Tammy Wong randomly charged forward, bulldozed her zeal and badly shakened up, 18 year-old Maria walked away. WITHOUT A FUCKING FIGHT. Supposedly meek but sadly, an apparent coward. And eversince, nothing but lies.

The aftermath was made of endless attempts to digest the idea of a shattered dream and the end of school life, followed by jugs full of tears, fits of irrational behaviour, unstoppable rants and cursings of oneself. I was the reigning drama queen for some months. Somewhere in the process of healing, i hatched a little plan to kick my own ass and move on. I took up another diploma which bears no relevance to art in any major degree. I lied i would like it, maybe to get by, i was never serious but i never regretted anyway. Funny how the grades came back quite promising when i hated pretty much all things media. Life goes on anyway but lies wouldn't, ain't it? And i scurry on to a place, not wholly a home but very close. We forget the acrimonies of past and proceed on to tomorrow. I hate sulking and brooding over spilled tits milk. In a matter of months, I'm moving on to do art all over again, not in college but in university this time. It's hard to kick this drug and the high it brings.

In the spirit of preparing myself for another shot at fate, i've been reading, contemplating, discussing old art theory notes and other materials. And back in school, i remembered our dampened spirits as soon as we arrive at a plateau in our learning, trying to comprehend our stagnated abilities. While the more advanced dancers struggle to find an identity for themselves because copying the identical of a teacher combats the idea of individuality, which is, promoted in dance or art anyway. Everyone toughens up against the pressure, everyone hungers for inspiration.

There comes our idols, icons and masters of the field, readily standing in like a commited teacher past midnight. Recharges you with wisdom, ideas, propellors to throw you back into the arena like a brand new person. During that difficult time, Yoko Ono had my back (and now, she is becoming a statement and trend, FYI). Who's got yours?

Which brings me to share some good kicks in the ass:

Book: Letters To A Young Artist

You'd have to read this yourself, it works like a booster pocketbook and inspirational bible.

Video: Alan Moore, to a young artist.

You'd probably need earphones.

longing for 'spring'

I am ready for some quiet time. Inspiration has exhausted and the present season is not spring- for ideas.
......

As if a dance,
we create shapes, celebrated through space
and time.

But. And.

Sublime stupidity, wishing only to be square.
Eventually, a standstill.

We hate the awkward motion..
The clumsiness of two funny shaped sprockets..

And there. The standstill.

Exiled from shelter,
I put up with this.

Showering unto me like hail.

But. And.

Like a wounded dog, i crawl home.
.......

Clocking 9.00am, i leave for bed. Be back later.