I’m back. Starting a new stage in life (i.e. university) kept me terribly busy.
Time to start writing again!
Edit: I’ve been skimming over the stuff I had written in the blog more than a year ago. I can’t believe that was my writing. Have I really changed that much? Was I that cheesy? Am I still that cheesy? Ha. Haha.
A four-o-clock bell compels my feet
to kiss the pair of Nikes
Like they always do,
As they groggily stamp the floors
Of the hospital letters. Flurries
Of rings, wheels, and screams
Inundate the once hallowed
Halls. He hands me the chart,
While he hands me his heart,
Unknowingly, indifferently, winnowed.
Gaze. It tears away, snatched
by her warped, unkempt strings
of numbers. No – harbingers of a tempest.
Her cries knell. Red stains wrapped
about with translucent pains and gauze.
Does she know who will be the purveyor,
The perpetrator,
Of her unsung requiem? Does she know?
The locks embracing the floodgates
cannot escape their sins. Whilst her gasps
Are rendered inchoate,
A beau, with a cold stench of orchids,
Struts
In, her chasm submerged upon his sight.
Might I let myself in
To change her, foil and all,
But save her from this white-feathered
Margrave?
Because I know, don’t I? Don’t you?
She does it, swift: carefully placing
The feline out of the bag, onto his lap.
It’s yours, it’s yours.
How can he say so, as her temple
Decomposes into its bony score, she trills incessantly
In her opening dirge. Finally.
It’s all here – nothing removed, but nothing
Was there, like the turn in the trick.
She knows
There will be no prestige, only a precious.
Now she
Surrenders the wrinkled fabric of the sun
And lets the redness of the moon gleam.
Sometimes I just want to escape. From the flurry of red signs, 140-character limits, and the general environment of high school.
Once in a while, the online world that is mainly comprised of social media makes for decent social interaction, and occasionally the adrenaline-pumping moments of pure teenage giddiness. But it’s all transient.
I wish that I could rewind time and go back to an era that I think I understand, but probably don’t. A time when things were simple, and human interaction involved talking.
Evidently, I feel a bit overwhelmed by technology. (Ironically, I sit here using it almost indifferently.) It’s not that social media and technological communication is particularly bad. It’s that it is failing to do to anything of value for me.
Perhaps the feelings are mutual (and not just regarding technology). Do all teenagers feel a peculiar void, an emptiness that is simply begging to be filled with a richness of life and adventure?
At this point, I have the same feeling as I did a few months ago: go on a long hike in Peru on the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. In solitude, of course.
Nature, somehow, makes everything much simpler. Life probably isn’t as complex as I, the alleged hormonal teenager, is making it out to be.
But let’s just take in the beauty of simplicity, and forget all the emoticons and YOLOs inundating teenage social lives:
It is true: I have found my soul mate. My love for jazz and blues music escalated pretty quickly this past month. Since then, my voice has done nothing but experience the pleasures of singing jazz and some classics. But I promise, it’s not a lustful relationship; we were meant to be.
Behold:
“I’m irresistible, you fool” ~ Lola
“You give me fever.”
“I put a spell on you… You are mine.”
“Cause this big old world keeps spinnin’ around.”
“Cry me a river”
“I’d rather go blind”
Don’t you wish you could just go back in time, even for a few minutes?
The child version of me, upon learning of the existence of poetry, had always thought that poetry was a puzzle. I’d always thought that a poem was something a person wrote to aesthetically wrap a secret message in a box, wait for someone to find it, unwrap it, and decode the gift inside.
A part of me sometimes still thinks of poetry as just that: a secret message. To look for clues and solve the mystery that is the author’s mind. (This particular attitude towards poetry may have stemmed from the process of poetry analysis consistently hammered into high school students in English class.) You may say, and rightfully so, that poetry is about rhythm, a harmony of words, both minor and major. You may say that sometimes poems are written for the explicit purpose of making the reader understand. And you may ask, then, “why would a poet want to hide a secret message if they ultimately want to express themselves and be understood?” But I believe that poetry can be anything we want it to be – anything you choose it to be.
Writing, including poetry, is built on sessile pillars of truth. Stories, poetry, screen plays, and virtually every form of writing has a fiery core of feelings, emotions, and thoughts, all neatly embellished with the wisely chosen words of the writer.
We often ‘hide’ those things within our works of art, hoping for someone to find it and understand that message in the way we intended it to be understood. And by hide, I mean using words or mediums of art as our allies – to mold a message in whatever way we want to. (There is of course no guarantee the reader would interpret it that way. But there is sometimes an ideal way we hope they would perceive our message.)
It is with this rationale and attitude that I write poetry. When there are surges of emotions, ideas, passion – anything! – I express it in poems in such a way that only I, the writer, can understand where the poem’s destination is – what it really means. That’s sort of the fun of it, really: being able to be in the “club” of your own imagination. However, I don’t write poems with the intention of deceptively ensuring that no one will ever understand, for that would undermine one of the fundamental maxims of art and writing itself.
(Okay, I can feel your skepticism and confusion diffusing from my computer screen, but hold on to it for just one more minute.)
I guess my ultimate question is: what is poetry, and therefore art, to me, despite all the unorganized ramblings of sorts you may have read above?
I believe it’s when we synthesize our innermost reflections and portions of humanity into a coherent message, and surround it with the medium of art we choose. It’s a message that, when coated with thick layers of metaphors in a poem or tones of acrylic colours in a painting, becomes a journey that the reader must go through to reach into the soul (assuming there exists such a thing) of the artist. And the best part is that we, the artists, are the clever creators of that journey. We are the people conjuring and controlling, to an extent, what is then and there the reality of that reader.
That right there is what inspires me about art, especially writing. Great writers like Fitzgerald in “The Great Gatsby”, or poets like Robert Frost in “The Road Not Taken” are the masterminds behind the curtains we know we cannot surpass. So instead, we surrender to the rules of the art and take our seat for a performance by geniuses like Hemingway or Flaubert. We give ourselves to the art, the artist, and the world they engulf us in.
So, it can be a secret message for me, or it can be a symphony of musical rhythms and melodies for you. The one thing is that you, the artist, are the soul bearer of burdens in the work that you do, which is to create, and create something worthwhile and fulfilling.
It is this very power that we as artists hold that is the one inexorable force enabling us to create the immortal.
I may or may not live under a rock sometimes, which is why I only recently (about two days ago) found out about the popular series by E.L. James, starting with 50 Shades of Grey. After reading about less than half the book, I couldn’t afford to torture myself any longer.
Wikipedia it if you want to know more. But in a nutshell, the book is an adult version of Twilight without the vampire shit, and comprises of sex, sex, oh! and sex.
After reading this review [http://screencrush.com/50-shades-of-grey-movie/], I didn’t know how to put my opinion together more eloquently than that. It’s one of the most hilarious and truthful reviews I’ve ever read.
One of my favourite parts of the review:
Throughout the book, Anastasia is slowly exposed to Christian’s “dark” world and his “Red Room of Pain,” which is just a room with a bunch of sex toys in it, but apparently we have to get all silly about it. I mean, we don’t call the kitchen the “White Room of Yummy” or the living room the “TV Room of Couching.” Anastasia is a cipher for purity, though, which means she’s a 14 year old girl in a 21 year old woman’s body and for a good hour after I started reading it I wondered when she’d get her first period, and then I worried that we’d get 20 pages on how much it freaked her out.
And Britt Hayes (the author of the review) is absolutely right in saying how the book is only perpetuating the misconceptions surrounding relationships, BDSM, women, and sex in general.
And so it’s no surprise that ’50 Shades of Grey’ has become so wildly popular with women of all ages because we’ve been made to feel repressed and believe that porn is just this primitive, icky thing guys watch. If porn is a cave-drawing and ’50 Shades’ is Monet, I think we need to invent fire already so we can burn this thing down. Who do you think has more dignity? A woman in a porn film or Anastasia in ’50 Shades of Grey’? Trick question. The answer is Aunt Jemima. A bottle of vaguely racist maple syrup has more dignity than you if you took more than a second to realize that pornography is more thoughtful and respectful of women than this “novel.”
I reckon the author of that review is a better writer than E.L. James. Full to the brim with misplaced words, grammar fails, and redundancies, I don’t know what people are thinking calling 50 Shades of Grey ‘good literature’. I mean, if I read “Stop biting your lip” or “inner goddess” one more time, I might start pulling my hair out.
What’s more, they’re making it into a movie! I’ll wait until it comes out before I start talking about that one.
What are your thoughts on 50 Shades of garbage grey?
Ah. Summer holidays are the ultimate time of year to indulge oneself in TV and films galore.
And if you’re a film geek or a general lover of movies like me, you might be familiar with the increasingly famous name “Fassbender”. Indeed, over the last week, in the midst of researching for my Extended Essay and studying for the SATs, I’ve been focusing on films with one specific quality: the Oscar-worthy acting of Michael Fassbender.
So far, these are the Fassbender movies I’ve watched: Prometheus, Shame, Fish Tank, and Hunger. Here are my thoughts on the movies (oldest to most recent):
HUNGER (2008) – Director: Steve McQueen (Directorial Debut)
Rating: 4/5
Concerning itself with the Irish Hunger Strike in 1981, regarding political and cultural turmoil, Steve McQueen revealed a near cinematic master-piece in his first feature film. (The first film that I watched of McQueen’s was actually Shame, and it required a bit of getting-used-to.) His style is very literal, taking each moment as realistically and patiently as possible, so as to emphasize the subtleties that make the puzzle pieces of the entire story.
In Hunger, Fassbender plays Bobby Sands (Provisional IRA member), who eventually dies of the Hunger Strike he organized. He’s first introduced about 30 minutes into the film, after the audience is familiarized with the brutal and dehumanizing conditions of the Prison. This story is one that requires attention, for it is the epitome of the human condition, and what determination is all about.
As it was Fassbender’s breakthrough film, he had to lose a lot of pounds (not sure of the exact amount) just for the role. If you watch the movie, the ending, with him lying on the bed as thin as a stick, is heart-breaking.
I was very much impressed with his acting (obviously). Many interviewers asked him “why go through all the physical extremes just for a movie”, and I believe his answer was usually about how he placed a lot of trust in McQueen the first time he talked to him.
In particular, I found the main dialogue scene between Bobby and the Priest the most visceral and defining scene of the film (and one of the only dialogues as a whole):
My one criticism of the film, as a first-time viewer, is the lack of historical context. Before watching the film, I knew absolutely nothing about Bobby Sands, the Irish Hunger Strike, nor the Political situation in Ireland at the time. I don’t think the film was able to reach out to everyone, simply because there wasn’t any foundation that the audience could place the bigger picture in. Why was Bobby Sands doing what he was doing? What happened or what did he do before he went to prison? Why did he go to prison in the first place? How can we really understand Bobby’s cause and his determination if we don’t fully understand his reasoning? I think if the film started out with answering some of those questions, we, as the audience could have had an easier time understanding just what Bobby Sands was trying to do and why. Eventually, I did have to do my own research on the issue. But it would have been nice to have had some background information in the movie itself.
Nevertheless, I found Hunger to be very impactful and hard-hitting, but only after understanding what was historically and politically going on. McQueen is quite the mastermind when it comes to relaying a message without many words. On the surface, it may seem simple, but after watching the film several times, I’m sure one can pick up the nuances and little things that make it for what it is: a complex, detailed, and emotional journey.
FISH TANK (2009) – Academy award-winning Director: Andrea Arnold
Rating: 4/5 (It’s pretty on-par with Hunger.)
Winning the Jury Prize at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival, there’s no doubt that Fish Tank is worth watching.
This one had an incredible performance by Katie Jarvis, who had no previous experience in acting or theatre, and of course, Michael Fassbender (again).
In a nutshell, the film is about Mia (played by Katie Jarvis) who is a daughter and sister in a dysfunctional and low-income family, with a very young single mother (who seems to hate her offspring throughout the whole movie). Michael Fassbender plays the man who eventually has a relationship with Mia’s mother. But I’ll leave it at that – because it gets a much more heated!
I really enjoyed watching this movie. Arnold really took advantage of nearly every scene in this film – from the metaphorical scenes with the horse, to the tense yet comical kitchen scenes in the Essex rusty apartment. I found Mia’s character to be intriguing and very well developed; an easy character to sympathize with at times.
Michael Fassbender’s character, Conner, on the other hand, plays a completely different set of cards. Fassbender actually never received a script from Arnold for this film. He had to use his intuition and act along each scene, which I think definitely paid off at the end in his performance. He plays a likeable character that comes to surprise both the audience and characters. (I don’t want to reveal too much here, so I won’t anymore.)
I don’t really have any criticisms about the film, except that I felt some gaps in the relationship between Mia and the Trailer boy. But I suppose that was left open so the ending could be carried out smoother, and also for the development with Fassbender’s character.
Overall, I found the film to be truly captivating, intimate, and powerful.
SHAME (2011) – Director: Steve McQueen
Rating: 4.5/5
Another wonderful and deeply moving film by McQueen, this one had copious amounts of sex and nudity. Though that’s another part of this review, if one is to watch this film, comfort with nudity might be pretty useful.
So why all the nudity and sex? Well, if you don’t know already, the movie is all about sex. More specifically, it’s about a man’s degenerative and self-destructive addiction to sex (which is an actual thing, in case we have any cynics here).
Set in the melancholy, grey, and condo-filled streets of New York, Fassbender plays a reserved, successful, and handsome “Brandon Sullivan”. With Porn filled to the rim on his Office hard drive, and a sister (played by the charming Carey Mulligan) whose arrival is burdensome, Michael’s suffering due to sex addiction is quite visible and in-your-face in this film.
I particularly liked the relationship between Brandon and his sister in this film. Like he mentioned in an interview, Brandon’s suffering is implicit; it’s as if he’s imploding. By contrast, Sissy’s struggles with her social and personal life is explicit, characterized by ‘explosions’, which eventually burst in Brandon’s face one day as she surprises him, naked in his bath tub. Their dysfunctional relationship makes for a few interesting scenes, especially the one where Brandon finally reveals his true feelings towards his sister. Thus, there are really two interconnected but distinct story lines; one of the relationship with his sister, and the other with his struggling sex-ridden conscience.
Once again, McQueen employs his literal and exquisite filmmaking style. The background story between Brandon (Fassbender’s character) and Sissy (Carey Mulligan) is left open-ended, and the audience is left wondering just what made them so insufferable towards each other.
The film is well done, and takes us through a step-by-step emotional and visual journey through Brandon’s life. I think Fassbender’s character was given a lot of moments to really display all the conflicting aspects of Brandon’s life. The little moments, like when Brandon was slowly kneeling down while his sister was “getting it on” with his boss, were crucial to understanding Brandon’s condition. And as usual, Fassbender gave it his best. Sadly, as many may already be aware of, he was snubbed of an Oscar. What a Shame (see what I did there?). I genuinely think he was sensational in this movie.
This was a really great scene, and with absolutely no words:
And now, on to the nudity. So this is known as the ‘penis’ movie to some people, simply because of Fassbender’s ‘nether regions’ being shown… a lot. But to all those critics, I would say two things: “so what?”, and “it’s a movie about sex”. People have become quite accustomed to watching naked women in movies, so what’s wrong with naked men? It’s a movie with nude human beings, let’s move on to the more serious and important stuff. Secondly, considering the movie is, after all, about the internal battle between a man’s addiction to sex and his reasoning mind, doesn’t the nudity and sex make logical sense? We don’t have films about superheroes without action and violence, so we shouldn’t have films about sex without the nudity, no matter how explicit it has to be.
Overall: well filmed, great characters, fantastic acting, and an intimate and emotional masterpiece as a result. Shame kept reverberating in my mind long after I’d watched it. What more can I ask for in a film?
Prometheus (2012) – Director: Sir Ridley Scott
Rating: 2.5/5
Ridley Scott + Science Fiction = genius right? Well, I didn’t think it was amazing (especially compared to Alien). I don’t have time to go in depth, but I will say I liked the acting, philosophical themes, and the cinematography (which was probably one of the best parts) – pretty entertaining in general. However, I do have some criticisms. I found that I was asking more questions than I was answering, which didn’t turn out to be the most enjoyable for me. I also had a problem with the Dr. Shaw, who I feel didn’t display the caliber brilliantly performed by Sigourney Weaver as Ellen Ripley in the original. Could have been better – should have been better. But I’m hopeful for the sequel (will there be one?).
***
So that’s what I’ve been up to this past week. And I’ll be really honest right now: half the reason I watched these particular movies was because of the one and only Fassbender. (Proceed the googly eyes and guy-crazy giggling.) I don’t think I would have watched Hunger, Prometheus, or Fish Tank (Shame is an exception – I’d been meaning to watch it), were it not for the brilliant acting and dashingly good, out-of-this-world, looks of Michael Fassbender. If there existed a “David” that I could buy off eBay, I would either buy it in a heart-beat or otherwise ask my parents to buy him for Christmas + my birthday combined.
So here’s to unbelievably talented acting, eye-opening and Oscar-worthy-but-not-nominated films, and Fassbender’s [sadly-aging] good looks!
Okay, maybe one more photo of him: *sighs*
That, my friends, is Fassbender Frenzy.
I recently, with much enthusiasm, watched the Great Gatsby Movie trailer. The movie is directed by Baz Luhrmann, and will star Tobey McGuire, Leonardo Dicaprio, and Carey Mulligan (to name a few).
Here it is:
(How many of you noticed Amitabh Bachchan in there?)
Evidently, I’m pretty excited to watch the movie next Winter. As they say, Winter is Coming, and Gatsby with it.
Although the trailer looks great, what really pleased my ears was the trailer song, which was (surprise, surprise) called “Love is Blindness”, originally by U2, but this version sung by Jack White.
Check it out:
I definitely love this version more than the original.
Jack White just brings a whole new dimension of depth and intensity into the mix. I can just feel the anguish and his heart of darkness through his voice, and talented guitar-playing.
That’s probably what I’ll be listening to for the next few days. (It’s also a lot of fun to dramatically dance to!)
Anyone else looking forward to “winter”?
Cheers!
A few days ago, I had heard the unexpected news that Muse was chosen as the official band who’d write and release the official London 2012 Olympics anthem. Naturally, as a hardcore Muse fan, I was ecstatic to hear about that!
Today, I finally heard the song. Here it is:
What did you think? First impressions?
After listening to it, I had no idea what to think of it. I was kind of in a mental rut, since anything that Muse wrote and performed was pure gold in my eyes, but this… this was ‘bronze’ at best.
Muse is one of those bands that evolves rapidly, after each album. And I don’t mind that, because listening to the same types of songs year after year would get pretty darn boring. So that’s a quality I really admire in Muse; the metamorphosis they go through in each album.
With this… I have no idea where they’re going with their next album (even though “Survival” is not necessarily a representation of The 2nd Law).
After listening to it a few more times, I decided that in terms of what Muse is artistically capable of, “Survival” was mediocre and sub-par compared to Muse’s regular musical capacity and talents. And believe me, I tried to rationalize liking it, but it’s definitely not up to “Muse Standards” (and I think Matt Bellamy knows that).
Many comments on Youtube are likening the song to Queen and Bohemian Rhapsody, which is fine because Matt Bellamy and Muse are influenced by bands like Queen. However, Muse has its own distinctive style, just as every band does.
So here’s what I liked about this song:
What I disliked about the song:
Although the lists above suggest that there are more things to like about the song than to dislike, I think I’ll stick with listening to Muse classics from The Origin of Symmetry or the Exogenesis Symphony until The 2nd Law comes out.
I have big expectations for The 2nd Law, since I know they won’t have the Olympics or anything else restricting their talents and idiosyncratic style from being fully expressed in their music.
And as for the trailer for The 2nd Law, I really don’t think there will be any dub step. Think about it: Muse and dub step together. It’s not even compatible in the same sentence!
Nevertheless, I am extremely excited and looking forward to The 2nd Law, and watching the 2012 Olympics this year!
Cheers!
I had a very important self-realization the other day.
It was triggered by a piano recital.
I was about to go up to the newly-bought grand piano to play a beautiful arrangement of the Schindler’s List Theme, which I’d been practicing for months. I played through the entire piece, and didn’t manage to lose my memory. But what really unnerved me, was that while I was playing, my hands were shaking. My heart beat was really fast, and my mind wasn’t focused on the music, but instead waited until I made a mistake or until the piece was over. The way that I played this piece in the comfort of my home, where I was passionate and completely relaxed, was not present during this recital performance.
What do we call this? A classic case of “Stage Fright”.
Stage Fright: (Performance anxiety) is the anxiety, fear, or persistent phobia which may be aroused in an individual by the requirement to perform in front of an audient. (Thanks, Wikipedia)
You see, the penguin is me.
For those of you who know me well enough to realize that I am a debater, public speaker, and even sing, I can sense your surprise.
Granted, everyone is nervous before or while performing. But there’s a distinction between ‘healthy’ nervousness and Stage fright that is limiting one’s talents.
I’ve realized that I get performance anxiety to the point where it feels as if it’s limiting my capacity to:
When I sing my heart out in the relaxing environment that is my house, true emotion and passion comes out. But place me in a different environment where others are watching, the emotion and passion is overshadowed with the constant unconscious and conscious anxiety that is limiting my ability to share my art.
And this is the same with interviews, or being amongst a group of people I may not know. For example, at an important interview I had a while ago, I was the most nervous I had ever been. Ever. And I believe it got in the way of displaying who I really am, and being genuine & authentic. It’s the same with competitions. How much could I have accomplished, if I didn’t let my nerves get in the way? Could I have won Internationals if I had only raised my voice a bit more in that competition room, or if I didn’t let my internal fears get in the way of my expression?
I should clarify that I was still quite expressive and sociable, or else I wouldn’t even have gotten to the finals of that competition. But I think that performance anxiety is the one factor standing between me and unimaginable opportunities.
I only have one choice now…
Challenge: overcome stage fright.
The nervousness will never disappear. Biologically, there’s a reason for it. The adrenaline that goes burserk before a performance can be used to my advantage.
So now, all I need is some strategies, and lots of practice. I’ll probably try developing some sort of routine or ritual to use right before any performance, where I channel all my energy and thoughts towards my performance and calming my nerves.
Goal: overcome stage fright and become more comfortable/natural around strangers by my birthday (December).
Challenge Accepted!
Artistic Peregrination 