talking of Michaelangelo.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
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my fantasia // 9:49 pm
There's a segment in Disney's
Fantasia 2000 called "Rhapsody in Blue" -- one of my favourite pieces of music of all time. I am reminded of that part when they're all blue and purple and in the subway stuffed. That's what my days here feel like. RUSH IN, pushed against other sweating, pulsing bodies, perspirating hands, loud mouths, phones, ear candy, lack of seats, kindness (for the elderly, the pregnant),
rush out. Delay. Stops. Pause. Yellow light. Blue. Purple. High heels, worn sneakers. Fatigue. Stress. Work. Play. They all go. They all go to their corners of the world, in their own melodies and harmonies. They all go with their own dynamics, their choices. They rush. They wait.
They wait.
She's seen it all. She's seen them swear and laugh and this is the life. She embraces these moments with a smile to herself and the others think she's crazy.
She waits. She waits a lot these days. In her waiting she is waiting again to wait.
Slowly, something has creeped into her heart, maybe she's admitting more than she should. Gradual crescendo. Momentary joys. Bloom. She should just let it bloom.
I wait and I hear my fantasia blooming and booming. I hear the softer harmonies die out and fade. I hear... distance and farewells. But, that's not what she wants at all. It's not.
Some things, you can't expect to hold forever, so ... just don't and give up (or give in).
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can't even hold onto it any longer // 1:59 am
When they're gone out of his head, these words, they'll be gone, everywhere, forever. As if they had never been.Atwood has a way with prose, she can bend it and push it through. It sinks in you like mist at first and then you realize you're suffocated by it and you can hardly hold it all in. It's not bad, her storytelling.
Does this apply to me? Don't know:
He doesn't know which is worse, a past he can't regain or a present that will destroy him if he looks at it too clearly. Then there's the future. Sheer vertigo.Anyway,
Oryx and Crake, it was a pretty good read.
She becomes a city girl here. Probably only the novelty of it thrills her and it is exhilarating. It is the challenge, the sweating, the walking in heels with hurting feet, the shopping temptations, the endless swarms of people all over the place, the danger of falling... in many ways.
There's that standstill moment, she pauses and waits. There are eyes everywhere and too many to make connection with. Too many moments and too many chances. The anonymity is thrilling and, well, welcome.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
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moments between moments // 11:20 pm
Sometimes there are breathtaking glimpses of out-of-ordinary.
Even in the bustling city, the hot and the humid, my heart feels a little pull when I see things like true kindness, inter-cultural exchange. The happiness of cheap shoes and spending time with the brother.
And the out-of-ordinary... well,
On some crowded footbridge I happened to notice PAUSE a little skinny grandpa holding tightly to his pudgy wife's hand... their hairs both greying. She talks loudly about fruits waving her other hand excitedly and his eyes glisten as he's watching her with aged fascination and still fresh love. It was quite beautiful amidst the... busyness of the city.
Then there is always the exhilaration of being challenged and to have expectations from someone. She interviewed for a few jobs and is touched by the genuine admiration someone has showered upon her. She is worth a lot more than she thought she was. Her passion and energy turns out to be just enough after all.
I have been reading an interesting story about Snowman (also known as Jimmy).
"Hang on to words," he tells himself. The odd words, the old words, the rare ones. Valance. Norm. Serendipity. Pibroch. Lubricious. When they're gone out of his head, these words, they'll be gone, everywhere, forever. As if they had never been.
Margaret Atwood has interesting thoughts.
... pointless repinings
Why hyphenate, why parenthesize, unless absolutely necessary?
Thoughts escape me now, as do memories. They seem to die a little when she is fatigued. Japan, in a few hours. And, sleep. Hopefully.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
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心竅 // 1:37 pm
如夢初醒 明明還在笑怎麼哭了
鏡中緣 霧裡花 最假的 才越心跳
如夢不醒 明明流淚了怎麼失笑
怨很長 恨太多 唯愛太少
Monday, June 14, 2010
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the lives of flowers // 9:51 am
...are so ephemeral.
The mother said today, "When are you going to bring a Gerrome (cousin-in-law) home?" -- implying the boyfriend question. She is more desperate than the person in question.
the pressure is ON
Mastery in Prose speaking of mastery in prose:
"...I cloak them with adjectives, dilate them, stretch them over the length of a sentence, or a verbal melody, and I let nothing of the actual food remain, only these magician's words which will make the readers believe they have been eating as we did..."
And from Mitsuki: "The lives of flowers are sublime. Despite the obstacles and troubles which impose on them, they grow, stand tall and bloom with utmost beauty. A fleeting life which solicits not pretentious awe or empty words, but a side glance and a blossoming ardent smile."
ocean of faces
Sunday, June 13, 2010
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could we pretend? // 12:20 pm
I could really use a wish right now
Friday, June 11, 2010
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mediocre // 2:02 pm
Walked the stage, got the paper, some flowers.
The mother asked her "Do you feel older now?" Or in her terms "...like a big girl now." She answered without hesitation and too quickly "Not at all." The mother seemed displeased.
Cue music: I'm a big big girl in a big big world...
Anyhow, now I feel as though I'm just another number -- bland and blank.
On an unrelated note:
"I have held eternity under the skin of my words, and tomorrow I shall die."
Feeling somewhat vacuous at the moment.
... like some aimless earthworm in the rain for four years
Wednesday, June 09, 2010
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dissociative identity disorder // 5:14 am
... scary thoughts and more
Saturday, June 05, 2010
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heart-gripping prose albeit translated // 9:54 pm
Moments like this act as magical interludes, place our hearts at the edge of our souls: fleetingly, yet intensely, a fragment of eternity has come to enrich time. Elsewhere the world may be blustering or sleeping, wars are fought, people live and die, some nations disintegrate while others are born, soon to be swallowed up in turn -- and in all this sound and fury, amidst eruptions and undertows, while the world goes its merry way, bursts into flames, tears itself apart and is reborn: human life continues to throb.....
Then let us drink a cup of tea. Silence descends, one hears the wind outside, autumn leaves rustle and take flight, the cat sleeps in a warm pool of light. And, with each swallow, time is sublimed.
The ebb and flow of her prose gives my heart lofty feelings. Her dark humour is intriguing and keeps me reading. Her philosophical digressions are packaged in interesting and twisted ways. It's been awhile that I've been moved by poetic prose that takes my breath away, smotheringly.
Friday, June 04, 2010
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in transit // 2:10 pm
hypnophobia - fear of sleep
I'm terrified, actually, of it... the dreams that come with it. My feet hurt and my eyelids are getting heavy, but I'm terrified of those iniquitous things that came with it.
Relax, busy mind.
...humans live in a world where it's words and not deeds that have power, where the ultimate skill is mastery of language. - from Barbery's character, Paloma
From Renée, on reading and her autodidact ways:
There are days when I feel I have been able to grasp all there is to know in one single gaze, as if invisible branches suddenly spring out of nowhere, weaving together all the disparate strands of my reading -- and then suddenly the meaning escapes, the essence evaporates, and no matter how often I reread the same lines, they seem to flee ever further with each subsequent reading, and I see myself as some mad old fool who thinks her stomach is full because she's been attentively reading the menu.
It's interesting to read people on the subway. Watching them from the tops of my glasses discreetly.
Movement is a curious thing. Movement... moving towards
Please, give me an easier dream to swallow tonight. I can hardly accept what is happening in my subconscious anymore now...
Thursday, June 03, 2010
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iniquitous dreams // 10:45 pm
The dream from yesternight haunts me still.
A mixing of my present fictional reality and my past memories blooming like some nightmare that doesn't quite hit the scary mark.
Perhaps this is what Eliot would call mixing memory and desire.
Alas, the meaning of the dream evades me, but this is unimportant. The warmth still, it was... close to smothering.
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hedgehog II // 9:40 pm
As always, I am saved by the inability of living creatures to believe anything that might cause the walls of their little mental assumptions to crumble.
motionless movement
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
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night fury // 9:45 am
The movie "How to Train Your Dragon" made me cry. The absolute friendship between Night Fury and Hiccup... was touching to say the least.
Hilarious interactions between the little vikings.
Fishlegs: [to Tuffnut] Your mom let you get a tattoo?
Tuffnut: It's not a tattoo, it's a birth mark!
Ruffnut: Okay, I've been stuck with you since birth and that was never there before.
Tuffnut: Yes it was! You've just never seen me from the left side before.
Memorable was that part when they were soaring in the clouds. I felt as though I was soaring with them.
"Thanks for the breast hat, dad."
hahaha, the pair of father and son is an interesting sort.
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
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hedgehog // 10:49 am
There's a new book I want to get my hands on. According to amazon.com, it "exalts the quiet victories of the inconspicuous among us".
Boredom......
