Monday, April 28, 2008
Music took everything physical and lifted it until it got attached to invisible wires, where it inspirited and lingered on everything ecstatic. The notes, free-floating, inspired by wings, decided to reproduce like memory upon memory. Rememory. Fierce glissandos casaded down unrelentingly. Strains of heartache fluttered stubbornly without direction. Because that's how music roams, via the air but also through bodies and the earth, where it clamors. That's why we say that grass sings. Wind murmurs.With a few hiccups and notes backward, I do believe this is the harp concerto by Handel.
8:12 PM
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Played for main service today. Didn't feel too nervousy, after- throwing up dinner the night before
- crying with frustration
- blatantly refusing to even touch the piano
- praying and reading the bible
But it was enjoyable. Joy at being able to serve the Creator. So thanks teacher. :)
ANYWAY. Today was a fruitful day for capturing little bundles of joy on camera/video!
This is Raegan. Or at least I hope his name is spelled like this. He is Pastor Alvin's youngest son, and he has a tendency to break out in sheepish smiles every now and then. Right now, he is giving the I-WANT-TO-TOUCH-THAT-THING-YOU-ARE-POINTING-AT-ME-PLEASE-CAN-YOU-GIVE-IT-TO-ME-TO-PUT-INTO-MY-MOUTH look. 
This is Abel! Uncle Tok Heng's youngest son. He is small, cute, and likes to burrow his head into your shoulder when you carry him. And the picture below is sheer evidence of his budding genius for piano... CHOPIN wannabe! One day he might even surpass teacher! Haha. I'm such a loyal student.
-.-
Ha see! He is playing the keys so fast his hands are a blur! And look at how he sways up and down in emotion as he plays his heart out! Deborah's hand is not there to support him... nono.. it's there to keep him from falling off the piano seat as he gets too agitated from playing!6:33 PM
Saturday, April 26, 2008
I am frightened of people who make others cry without realising it.9:08 PM
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
In Vera-land,Chopin's music lingers tantalizingly in the sweet cool air. David Eddings, Stephenie Meyer and Tamora Pierce do not take forever to write. Everyone is shorter than 157cm. She has three hundred, fifty-seven point two godkids.
10:55 PM
Monday, April 21, 2008
My beloved friend,May God give you...
for every tear, a friend to wipe it away.
for every sad moment, a smile from those around you.
for every stumble, encouragement to cheer you on.
for every fall, love to pick you up.
8:25 PM
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
I realised worship-leading can be such a joy.And being the typical overly-anxious hyperventilating freak I am, that's saying a lot.
Because once every song sung, every note (screeched?) is dedicated to God, what is left is only the unalloyed bliss of giving praise to the Creator. When you lead worship, staring down at like about 80 people, you start searching every face. There are those who close their eyes and sing, some sing with expressionless features, some who clap enthusiastically along, or those who don't sing at all.
And so I get the impression of a orchestra. In the esplanade-themed YZ room, I am conducting an orchestra. Like every one of us has a different voice, we are all each unique instruments of God's will. Some draw out raw tones of the violin, or linger over rippling passages on the piano. Or maybe the reedy thin song of an oboe, beside the sensuous sway of a saxophone. Achingly pure notes trill out of the flute, amidst the slow rumbling boom of the timpani. And look! Who's the lone individual sitting in the first-class mid-row comfy chairs?
I can give you a clue. It's not Pastor Kien Seng.
1:11 AM
jack of all trades, master of none.passionate apathy, apathetic passion.
12:16 AM
Friday, April 11, 2008
Funny stuff about my class.1. Noreen can fall asleep while flipping a page! Well, I've heard about people sleeping while standing up, and falling asleep during (math/econs/history) lectures is hardly uncommon in our oh-s0-attentive-and-conscientious 08A13.
Admittedly, I have caught myself dozing off while writing, and it is incredibly interesting to note how suddenly your handwriting slips into sanskrit-mode while you drift into zoneout-mode.
Or the occasional humiliation when you are speaking to the person beside you, and you find to your utter horror (acute embarrassment) that he or she has fallen asleep. Then you wonder it was the topic or you that was boring. Nah, it was the topic.
Well, I was sitting beside her when I saw her flip the page at the corner of my eye, when suddenly, the page just stopped in midair. With an incredulous turn of my head, I realised that she had managed to drift into dreamland, her hand still on the page. ?!?!?!
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2. And it's unbelievably amazing how my class can link every single thing in lit to SEX. I mean, it's horrifying and all, and I'm pretty sure our lit teacher wholly regrets the day she said "Lit is all about sex and death.", but it is also quite amusing in its own way.
Quote: "At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment-houses."
Lit teachers' intepretation: The long white cake represents the institution of marriage, and with the theme of adultury in mind, the violent slicing is representative of the breaking of this institution, a violation.
Class' intepretation: Slices of cake indicate sharing. Hence, with the theme of adultury in mind, the sharing of cake is like sharing of the respective wife or husband with their illegitimate lovers. *racuous laughter sounds*
A mere mention of a woman who goes around looking at people's feet is deemed as a fetish... descriptions of buffets now imply that the adulterous wife is so free with her body?! It really goes to show how innocent and pure-hearted (sex-deprived) the people my classmates are. HAHA. *coughmarissanorvincough*
And quite long ago, someone said in a desperate attempt to link some imagery to sex:
"According to ancient Chinese mythology, the cat is a phallic symbol..."
yeah right.
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3. I have classmates who treat the library like some kind of jungle or hideout. I don't know if they are training for NS or something.. maybe along the lines of camouflage and sneaking, but it is intriguing to see them run between bookshelves, and suddenly duck down, thinking that no one can see their antics at all.
And later claim to be reading about philosophy by Aristotle. -.-
Actually i think my class is pretty cute. hahahaaaa.
9:59 PM
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Achingly pure notes of the flute, primitive raw tones from the violin, I seem to be doing the brass instruments a severe injustice. Brass instruments are good yes, wonderful for the occasional chord when Haydn realises the audience needs a teensy wake-up call, for the building up of tension, thickening of the very air as the surroundings vibrate with the intensity of expression. Slow booms, low bursts of sound, wha-wha mutes? Bring them on. Disney and romantic composers do think alike after all.It makes quitting band so painful. eeew-phooo-nieem.