Jazzpiration was a huge success, and i thoroughly enjoyed the performance. I think thanks are in order...
to band-mates Boyle, Chermaine, Gao Yuan, Sara, Tania - Thanks for putting up with me. You people are wonderful. Thanks also for the smiles and reassurance - i really needed that at times.
to other jazz club people who also worked tremendously hard for the concert. Especially the j1 bands - kelly's band and sneha's band, who've had to learn everything in slightly under 4 months. I know what it feels like.
to the seniors for teaching us everything in such a short time, and organising everything. And also for still being very, very l33t.
to the senior-seniors (or basically Mark) who came down to teach us stuff despite having NS.
to classmates from 07S03N. Class <3! Thanks for putting up with my complete non-functioningness these 2 weeks, and for covering for all my undone tutorials, assignments, all the lectures i've missed, and for lending me money to buy coffee. Also, for buying tickets and supporting.
On a more personal level, i need to thank God for everything that went right, and some more for everything that didn't. Yay to Sara for instant pre-concert prayer meeting. And perhaps most of all, i want to thank God that it's over.
adam
Saturday, April 29
Sunday, April 16
EASTER !
Easter is wonderful.
I feel inexplicably happy today, which doesn't happen often to people like me. :D I even used an emoticon in a blog post, woot.
I guess it started in the morning. Woke up on decidedly the right side of the bed, and even no breakfast before church didn't dent my spirits like it usually does. The grin stayed on through easter mass (which is the best mass of the year. trust me on this. My heart does a little jump whenever the choir sings 'Easter song' no matter how out-of-tune, out-of-time, sleepy and drugged they are. ) We had to stand up too because the church was too crowded, but somehow it didn't matter. Verily we are slaves to our own negativity- the amount of good things that happen to you is proportionate to how happy you are.
Went out to meet some relatives who're over from indonesia/australia for lunch at Sizzler's. DECADENCE! The fast is over, truly. Then just shopped for awhile, ate more sushi than should be legally allowed, and went home.
Easter is really great. I must be allowed to say that again. Easter is really great. There was something horrible and looming on my chest for the entirety of lent, and suddenly it's off and it's great. Maybe that's supposed to happen, hmm...
adam
Christ is risen, Hallelujah!
Happy Easter to you. That means you.
I feel inexplicably happy today, which doesn't happen often to people like me. :D I even used an emoticon in a blog post, woot.
I guess it started in the morning. Woke up on decidedly the right side of the bed, and even no breakfast before church didn't dent my spirits like it usually does. The grin stayed on through easter mass (which is the best mass of the year. trust me on this. My heart does a little jump whenever the choir sings 'Easter song' no matter how out-of-tune, out-of-time, sleepy and drugged they are. ) We had to stand up too because the church was too crowded, but somehow it didn't matter. Verily we are slaves to our own negativity- the amount of good things that happen to you is proportionate to how happy you are.
Went out to meet some relatives who're over from indonesia/australia for lunch at Sizzler's. DECADENCE! The fast is over, truly. Then just shopped for awhile, ate more sushi than should be legally allowed, and went home.
Easter is really great. I must be allowed to say that again. Easter is really great. There was something horrible and looming on my chest for the entirety of lent, and suddenly it's off and it's great. Maybe that's supposed to happen, hmm...
adam
Christ is risen, Hallelujah!
Happy Easter to you. That means you.
Sunday, April 9
it's a small world...
I returned to my old house today with my dad. We're moving back in a couple of months, and since the tenants have moved out we now have to refurbish the place, which is in quite an awful state.
I'll say it quickly: the place has shrunk. I've caught myself many times in the past year dreaming of going back to the vast open-spaces, the tall angled ceiling, the endless corridor, the attic with so many doors. I grew up in that place, and growing up somewhere kind of entails the assignment of the size of imagination to places that seem so little now.
Going back was eye-opening - I felt like it was no longer a house, but just a miniature scale model. I could remember everything about the rooms, the corners, the precise shade of blue that the toilet is. I could say, here. Here is where i sat and stared at the way the wall meets the ceiling. Here I lay down sideways on my upper bunk and dreamt of leaping off, sprouting wings before I hit the ground. But it no longer holds any fascination for me; I can almost reach the ceiling by jumping now. It didn't feel like it was the real house; just a scale model for me to point and say, here, here are where my childhood memories are.
I walked through the house. They've chopped down the tree here (it's dying, they said) and that thought seemed to present an ominous symbolism in my mind. I couldn't help but think that ten years ago I would never have walked somewhere assigning ominous symbolisms to dead trees.
It saddens me to think that I've now lost something. One might say, with added height comes a diminished perception of size. With added experience comes a diminished perception of importance. Rubbish, I think - I squatted down and the garden didn't seem any bigger. No matter how I flattened myself against the stucco wall the corridor refused to stretch to encompass infinity.
Have I lost my childhood? No, I still remember everything as vividly as the day; and those were (in hindsight) some of my happiest. But that is sentimental nonsense.
The house is still there. I think i've grown with self-awareness, awareness that my body occupies some space that is far from negligible, and now the rooms are smaller for it. I've lost the carefree idealism (which expands like an ideal gas to fill all available space). I've lost the ability to colour and fill, with the infinity of imagination, the white hard walls.
I've grown up, one might say. But has the world really just gotten smaller?
adam
I'll say it quickly: the place has shrunk. I've caught myself many times in the past year dreaming of going back to the vast open-spaces, the tall angled ceiling, the endless corridor, the attic with so many doors. I grew up in that place, and growing up somewhere kind of entails the assignment of the size of imagination to places that seem so little now.
Going back was eye-opening - I felt like it was no longer a house, but just a miniature scale model. I could remember everything about the rooms, the corners, the precise shade of blue that the toilet is. I could say, here. Here is where i sat and stared at the way the wall meets the ceiling. Here I lay down sideways on my upper bunk and dreamt of leaping off, sprouting wings before I hit the ground. But it no longer holds any fascination for me; I can almost reach the ceiling by jumping now. It didn't feel like it was the real house; just a scale model for me to point and say, here, here are where my childhood memories are.
I walked through the house. They've chopped down the tree here (it's dying, they said) and that thought seemed to present an ominous symbolism in my mind. I couldn't help but think that ten years ago I would never have walked somewhere assigning ominous symbolisms to dead trees.
It saddens me to think that I've now lost something. One might say, with added height comes a diminished perception of size. With added experience comes a diminished perception of importance. Rubbish, I think - I squatted down and the garden didn't seem any bigger. No matter how I flattened myself against the stucco wall the corridor refused to stretch to encompass infinity.
Have I lost my childhood? No, I still remember everything as vividly as the day; and those were (in hindsight) some of my happiest. But that is sentimental nonsense.
The house is still there. I think i've grown with self-awareness, awareness that my body occupies some space that is far from negligible, and now the rooms are smaller for it. I've lost the carefree idealism (which expands like an ideal gas to fill all available space). I've lost the ability to colour and fill, with the infinity of imagination, the white hard walls.
I've grown up, one might say. But has the world really just gotten smaller?
adam
Wednesday, April 5
be happy ALL THE TIME
Be happy all the time.
Because if you aren't happy at any moment, you may die the next second of an aneurysm and then you'd die miserable. How much does that suck?
Even if I've had the shittiest day of my life, the thing I should do is sit down somewhere and force myself to be happy. The human capability for self-deceit is one of the few truly infinite things in this world; even so in most cases there's no need for such.
If there's the tiniest shard of good news buried in my angst-ridden soul i assure you there's some way I can be happy about it.
adam
Because if you aren't happy at any moment, you may die the next second of an aneurysm and then you'd die miserable. How much does that suck?
Even if I've had the shittiest day of my life, the thing I should do is sit down somewhere and force myself to be happy. The human capability for self-deceit is one of the few truly infinite things in this world; even so in most cases there's no need for such.
If there's the tiniest shard of good news buried in my angst-ridden soul i assure you there's some way I can be happy about it.
adam
Monday, April 3
angst!
It seems RJ has awakened a wellspring of angst in me. Maybe it's the environment, the girls, the competition and the need to impress people.
Lol. Since when did angst impress people?
Anyway, I long for days long past when I was younger, carefree-er, perhaps slightly more conflicted, and far less sane (yes 3n, you have been spared the worst. haha. ) The most surprising thing about life so far is to realise that I harbour and treasure a little part of myself, perhaps buried deeply sometimes, that is proud to be just a little mad. I think to be completely sane and well-adjusted is to give yourself up to the world and become part of another inanity.
I believe you should keep a part of yourself separate, always questioning, and always laughing, always cynical, always slightly dead to the world, and always slightly disjointed, malfunctioning, slightly disconnected and dysfunctional and slightly disillusioned. It gives me a perspective on things. I think people who are truly sane are also truly silly. Then again, people who are truly mad are also perhaps not worth being.
"I went mad for a while,' said Ford, 'did me no end of good." - Life, the Universe, and Everything by douglas adams
adam
Lol. Since when did angst impress people?
Anyway, I long for days long past when I was younger, carefree-er, perhaps slightly more conflicted, and far less sane (yes 3n, you have been spared the worst. haha. ) The most surprising thing about life so far is to realise that I harbour and treasure a little part of myself, perhaps buried deeply sometimes, that is proud to be just a little mad. I think to be completely sane and well-adjusted is to give yourself up to the world and become part of another inanity.
I believe you should keep a part of yourself separate, always questioning, and always laughing, always cynical, always slightly dead to the world, and always slightly disjointed, malfunctioning, slightly disconnected and dysfunctional and slightly disillusioned. It gives me a perspective on things. I think people who are truly sane are also truly silly. Then again, people who are truly mad are also perhaps not worth being.
"I went mad for a while,' said Ford, 'did me no end of good." - Life, the Universe, and Everything by douglas adams
adam
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