Wednesday, July 30, 2008



A roll that turned out a bit more successfully than my previous one - thank you recent singapore sun :D

This first one was shot through a bus window that had an anti-glare filter on the glass, which I think is what caused the awesome aqua tint. So hurrah, save money no need to buy/make filters, use our public transportation!
















Despite the lack of pretty colours, I actually like this one a lot because its the kind of atmospheric moodiness that I've always been trying to capture with my holga.


Also I think at this point, my photos have mainly experimented on the aesthetic side of what the holga is capable of. Time to introduce some content and meaning, no?

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Oh oh oh, and!

After going through somebody's facebook picture album, I swear I will (try) never to make kissy-face/pouting expressions when posing for a picture ever again.

Yeah, I do get that it does help make a person look more photogenic and stuff because hello cheekbones and I don't begrudge that per se... But it just looks dumb and asinine and yes, I know almost perfect synonyms there but I need the emphasis! Just like the emphasis I got viewing pictures after pictures after pictures of a certain person's identical (albeit very attractive) facial expression.

So please, slap me if you see me (you never know!) puckering my lips for the camera because it is just eurgh. Peers and loved ones, protect me, guard me! Make sure I have a sane, considerably intelligent expression on my face at all times.

At least, you know, when there's going to be photographic evidence.

Monday, July 28, 2008

Today, I discovered a tool that will help me cope with future burdens of the mind!

I WILL LIST MY WAY TO SANITY.

Seriously you guys, it really works. When I told Hazri of my plan, he was all, but what if writing it down makes it even more overwhelming since it is now a tangible list! Which is a plausible reaction, but thankfully, no, I can totally deal with making lists.

Things I Am Worrying About
*in no particular order


1. Rini being unprepared for her exams.
a) unsure of how to push her without being overbearing and losing her completely
b) her failing her maths and consequently, being immediately slotted for ITE

2. having no Person to talk to, feel very displaced

3. don't know how to win scholarship

4. don't know whether going overseas is worthwhile (financially)

5. worry that above uncertainty is simply a manifestation of me giving up
a) have lost sight of goal? OR,
b) have attained new understanding/perspective?

6. will bank loan me insane amount of money?

7. if so, will financial debt ruin my life?






And you know, 7 items is not too bad at all. It certainly felt a lot heavier when it was muddled up in my head where my thought meanderings led from one problem to another without sufficient constructive space for the actual dealing with issues.

And the best thing is, certain issues which I had previously lumped together as a Worry, I've come to recognize that they weren't even Worries to begin with. So not only has Listing allowed me the organisation to tackle my issues, it has actually DIMINISHED my perceived amount of Worry.

Score! I (am going to) win at life!

So far.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Well! At least if there's any long-term good that has come out of this present affliction, I have learned a couple of things.

1. I like my emotions clean, gathered and snipped. Clearly demarcated, if you will.
2. But restraint? That never sits comfortably in my emotional vocabulary.
3. Coming out of My Very First Relationship without being (substantially) burnt, I am apparently a rarity.
4 . If I want to be with you, I want to be with you.
5. Which hardly means much actually, other than wanting to exist alongside another.
6. Nixed. (see #2)

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Can I just say for the record that today, I discovered the extent of how sexy intelligence can be. Mmhmm.

On an unrelated note, I realized as well that I hold the nagging ache\melancholy of love (and its lesser manifestations) like an ulcer. Which I probe with my tongue as I am wont to do to feel a sharp jab of pain, which is so much more satisfying than it just sitting there, half-existing and lingering only to be jolted at moments by an accidental snap of the teeth.

I would rather feel, and I would rather have it done purposefully.




(and holy shit, suddenly all the arrow keys on the laptop have stopped working! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS. The onset of laptop dementia, that is what. Not even the apostrophe key!)

Friday, July 18, 2008




So pretty!

As much as I sometimes fear that I have overly boyish tendencies, I'm glad to say: I STILL LIKE MY DOLLS. How's that for a burst of estrogen.

And they are not freaky looking, okay. This, is freaky but even so, in a totally awesome way:





And speaking of being all girly and sorts, I should really talk about my feelings.

Or not.

Sunday, July 13, 2008


Wow.

I am kinda in shock because Alfian Saat practically just dissed/derided the value of film (and film-making) as a medium for drama and performance in his blog.

People who know me well enough would know that I practically fangirl this guy as a writer because he happens to be so terribly astute in his thoughts and writing, so this is really quite a slap in the face. Fangirlish enough to feel bad reproducing his entry here since the intention would be to uh, vehemently disagree with him but its not like I have a killer readership anyway.

And thus has ended my brief flirtation with the study of cinema. Not for me film scholarship--a necrophiliac act, the love of images repeatedly shot to perfectability--in other words, an embalment. To watch a film is to partake of a thing literally done to death--the tedious retakes, the Franskenstein crypt of the editing room, the non-existence of that which flickers on the screen. There are dead people on screen, none on the stage. Cinema does not immortalise--it mummifies. The hubris of wanting to preserve corruptible celluloid. Theatre has no such illusions. It knows it is ephemeral--no two performances are ever alike. And when I watch a video recording of a play I know something has died.
I'm just incredulous.

Of course if you wanted to compare theatre against film, and a rather partisan comparison at that, you could easily make a case that one is better than another, but that would be missing a huge point - that theatre is not film, and each serves its own purposes that is valid on its own. Yes, part of the value of theatre is in its transience and this can be very well utilized to expound on our many, many levels of our existential angst, but it doesn't mean that the 'unnatural' act of recording and therefore immortalizing a moment in time negates film of the potential to accurately express existential truth. While one can say that there are too many things that are controlled and choreographed in film that makes it less 'real', it is this extensive degree of control that makes film such a powerful medium. Where theatre may be limited by its stage and the angle in which the audience views the performance, a film director has the flexibility of camera angles to create whatever perspective desired, creating as well the emotional tone of the image. A lone figure in a wide landscape versus a close-up shot of an actor's expression. You get the idea.

And the notion of non-existence in film is ridiculous. Yeah okay, metaphysically, I get your point, lalala its only a recording of a person in a moment, and not the person itself. The image is not the thing in itself, Magritte's pipe and all that jazz. But really, if you want to take that notion further, everything we perceive is an image, including what is on stage. Seeing the actor on stage is not essentially real if you think about it, its only the image that my eyes are capturing at the given moment. And the image, according to Alfian's view, is not the real thing. Besides, who's to say what is the real manifestation anyway? Would it be the actor, simulating the character under the director's instructions and mouthing the playwright's words? Or would it be the playwright's words itself? Then what would it be, the words typed on the page? But aren't those only a recording of the writer's original thoughts? In this regard, there is hardly anything real about theatre.

And if what Alfian is so fussed about is the unnatural looping or resurrection of a moment that has ceased to exist into our present time, well. Watching a film from this perspective would be the same thing as rifling through our memories because memories are but an image of what had been. To regard memories and images as zombie manifestations of our reality is just unnecessarily morbid, I think.

Besides, if what supposedly defines the real from the un-real is the state of being ephemeral, of the mortality of the moment, is there so much of a difference between the experience of a someone who watches a film once and that of someone who watches a theatre performance?

Wednesday, July 09, 2008


Zomg I finally got myself a facebook.

In the sense that i meekly agreed when charmaine said she'll sign up an account for me, because I just feel too plain self-conscious doing it myself, especially since by now, Facebook is like, quite a done thing.

And its so strange lah! You know the part where you add friends that you may know, which makes me go: well, I suppose she's my friend...Because you know, what if the person sees my Friend Request and goes, what who is this person? We're not even friends!

How mortifying.

On another note, a day in the life of a person who didn't find regular work during the school vacation and so is BORED OUT OF HER MIND because the rest of her friends did or are occupied with National Slavery that is NS (oh, so clever!), I went to the museum by myself. (Which I used to do quite often actually, before I got a boyfriend and everything. Ah the days before I had a person who was more than happy to oblige my adrenaline-charged itinerary.)

Anyway, the trip to the Singapore Art Museum was quite worthwhile because they were having a photographic exhibition of Alain Fleischer that were quite cool. His style is very lo-fi and totally experimental, totally up my (current) alley. The aesthetic is dreamy and nostalgic, where the direction of the photography is decidedly more painterly than the documentarian's pixel-perfect accuracy.

The bulk of the work exhibited rests upon the idea of a capturing a picture of a picture/painting and in doing so, creating an entirely new work in terms of the picture's texture and a slight shift in focus. I like how in a certain project, he enlarged a segment of frames from a film reel, showing the point in which the movie cuts to another scene. It would make sense you know, if it was being played as a movie? But frozen in this format, you really see the schism between two images that in its original film form, would have seamlessly be processed through our heads.

And, it just looks cool man.

So enough words! On to the pictures:





Monday, July 07, 2008













Honestly, I'm kinda..ehh about how this roll turned out. Most of the shots came out too cyan and dark or my liking. Caused by the x-pro? The expired film? Then how come the last two turned out completely different? Answers, I need answers :(

(So, I might have uh, cheated a bit and Photoshopped some of these - slightly!)

holga, x-pro, expired kodak ektacolour

Friday, July 04, 2008

When I get upset, I oscillate between two reactions: a) being compulsively, OCD tidy as in straightening everything into straight rows and b) letting myself go into a inert stupor because by this point, I honestly have no idea what to do with myself anymore.

Its almost 4pm and I'm still in my pajamas, which isn't really a rare occurrence, but this time it's because I simply cannot be bothered. There are things I could have done today too, like looking for a scrap of paper with a number scribbled in pencil on it, and its a number that in a way, is some sliver of hope. But I didn't bother looking for it, because I guess I'm tired of hoping. Oh hey! A tired phrase for my tired sentiments.

So like when Matthew said to just sit in tight and although I was really cheered up by talking to him, I was really thinking: Sit in tight? What for? And he also told me not to make this the most important thing in my life, (which in retrospect, is a rather late piece of advice but thanks all the same) and I'm like, how? This kinda is. Unfortunately, this was sort of the holy grail and unfortunately, the driving force behind all the things I've been doing for the past two years. Not that it constantly thundered through my thoughts and motives, but it was always there you know? The undercurrent in the stream of consciousness and all that shit.

You know I thought the disappointment would have stung a lot more. I'm guessing I'm still in the area of denial and I suppose, am waiting for the dam to breach. Then an almighty wave, a crest of emotion!

Although this nothingness is a more apt funeral for dashed hopes. What else would describe so well its replacement?

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

I am pleased with myself! Why? For turning this:

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TO THIS




Painstakingly stitched the fabric on - sewing through velcro is a bitch.

The fabric is plain calico and the pattern silkscreened from a screen lying around the class with a funny pixelly design. Layered the print like 2817821793 times to get this pattern out, so pleased! Have been waiting for a suitable crafty idea to use this fabric.