Sensorium 360°

The awesome curatorial team behind the show.
With Guest of Honor Mr T.K Sabapathy,
Adjunct Associate Professor and lecturer in History of Art, National University of Singapore.

Popped in for the Opening evening of Singapore Art Museum's 'Sensorium 360° - Contemporary Art and the Sensed World'. Friends, fun, love, art, thoughts. "Spanning the fields of art, phenomenology, philosophy and cognitive psychology, Sensorium 360° is a visual art exhibition that moves beyond vision to 'see' the world through the other senses, and to experience it in-the-round." Nine senses and 11 artists and their works comprise this exhibition. I enjoyed the curation and the presentations of the works, many of which are interactive.

The exhibition runs from now to 22 October 2014 with loads of upcoming public programmes both free and paid. There's a one-hour Curator Tour with Joyce Toh next Wednesday 6 August at 7.30pm. She's awesomely animated and will introduce the inspiration and thoughts behind the art installations in an easy-to-digest format.

Bui Cong Khanh was present to bring his work to life- 'Chicken Rice in the Border'.

Excitedly took a walk through the installations. They all stirred the different senses of each individual experiencing the artists' works. Giggled as I spied Bui Cong Khanh's 'Chicken Rice in the Border'. What is up with chicken rice recently?! Anyway, Bui Cong Khanh's works involved drawings, handmade ceramic plates, photographs and a video of...cooking chicken rice Hoi An style, its ingredients, sauces and all. Hoi An is the province with the largest Chinese community in Vietnam. The artist's hometown of Hoi An is near the border, where for him, it's "a place where multiple tensions and expressions co-exist and mingle, and generate new meanings". He explores how migration causes food to develop differently and engages our cultural and historical memories. The artist wouldn't be at the gallery to cook you chicken rice, but a rendition of Hoi An Chicken Rice will be on the menu at Food for Thought at 8Q SAM for the duration of this exhibition.

Lingered really long at Melati Suryodarmo's 'Alé Lino'. While every installation is interactive and unique, to have an artist present in the works was quite something. Melati herself was perched on the podium, leaning against a four-metre long pole pressed against her solar plexus. My gawwwd. The pain. She performed "an attempt to move beyond materiality and this middle world with a long pole that simultaneously connects her to the earth even as it rests against her solar plexus - considered by many to be the seat of an etheric field and hence, of the transcendent body or self." Didn't think the artist would be present daily after the Opening evening. A notice indicated that performance document would be screened after tonight.

The title of Melati Suryodarmo's 'Alé Lino' is taken from the Bugis language, referring to
"the 'middle world inhabited by humans, in between the 'upper world' of the heavens
and the 'lower world' that lies beneath the surface of the earth."

Pince & Pints

The latest hip joint in town that for once, I'm curious about- Pince and Pints. Forget the mediocre sides of soggy tasteless shoestring fries and sad mesclun salads with average balsamic dressing. Lobsters are the stars here. If you want fresh lobsters, this venue rocks. Decent alcohol selection.

Pince and Pints totally resembles London's Burger & Lobster, right down to presentation of food, not taking reservations and the seriously-long queues for seats. We're still fans of Burger & Lobster. Heh. Happy to have a version of it in Singapore. London's £20 to our S$48 to 600g for one whole lobster or a lobster roll. Works for us. No we didn't queue. At 5pm, there was a table available for a group of six. Got in fresh from a work trip, left the suitcase in the car and joined the friends who had easily gotten seats. We preferred sitting at the counter though. Don't bring big bags. It's a casual diner, not a restaurant, i.e no bag chairs and no space to leave huge totes anywhere except hanging off the back of your chair.

When a venue keeps airflown live lobsters from USA and Canada in pre-adjusted salinity and temperature-regulated tanks in its factory and the kitchen, it makes it easier to control the quality and the taste or texture of the dishes served to the table. It was a short and most acceptable wait for our food. Relieved to see their logistics ironed out. There're only lobsters on the menu. The whole lobster could be grilled or steamed. We like our lobsters steamed. The brioche for the generous S$48 lobster roll was good. The butter-soaked toasted bun was nicely done. Yum. A super satisfying meal. Nobody at the table bothered with its local style chilli lobster and fried mantou tonight. Wouldn't mind trying that next time.

You know what's surprisingly pleasant? Its wait staff. The servers we had- two of them, were situationally aware, warm and absolutely efficient. That's not an easy achievement nowadays. Short of grabbing a live lobster home and making a roll yourself, this is probably the best version of a New England lobster roll we have in town for now. If the queues aren't crazy, I'd stroll by again for a bite.

Itek Tim :: 咸菜鸭汤

Asam gelugor.

All that talk about SALTED VEGETABLES AND DUCK SOUP. Apparently this is a great summer soup in Chinese culture. Not that I care. I'd be drinking nothing else but gazpacho in the humidity and heat.

Anyway, it's itek tim to me. Something the kitchen churns up regularly whenever we have leftover Peking duck from the restaurants. As it happened, we have two Peking ducks in the freezer. Took one out to boil it up for dinner. It's not my favorite soup. But I'll have a tiny bowl for taste and memories. The others at the dining table would polish off the whole pot.

If this soup has to be done with a raw duck, I don't quite like just blanching it. Don't like handling raw meats. If I have to, then the duck will be first lightly roasted with vegetables. Easier to remove fats then. When leftover Peking duck is available, it saves so much time. Duck can stink quite badly and takes a combination of ingredients and a few hours of simmering on the stove to rid it of that underlying stench. Would need the soup to be tangy and sourish in order to contrast beautifully with the salted mustard greens. Be generous with the sour plums and pieces of dried asam gelugor (also asam keping). Tomatoes work. You could add tofu too. I like adding one chilli padi for a bit of bite. Adding a drop of brandy before serving is optional.

The man isn't too interested in boiling Chinese soups. Hahaha. Yes, I don't really cook, but I do like clear soups ALOT. I dislike eating the contents after. Quite familiar with how to boil soups. Easiest thing to do. One pot, all ingredients in. Don't think there's a written recipe. It's one of those instances when we close our eyes and remember what our grandmothers used to do in the kitchen.

Chicken Rice & Salted Vegetables and Duck Soup

I enjoy Math Paper Press' anthology of food in its 'Twenty-Four Flavors'. Picked up Issue 4 'Salted Vegetables and Duck Soup' and Issue 5 'Chicken Rice'. 24 stories of 250 words each, written by 24 writers.

The broadsheets are an easy flip. Thoroughly enjoyable. The stories are mostly humorous, sometimes dark, and very compact. Bought these issues as gifts for visitors in town as well. Can't quite extract quotes from each story without giving away the details. Will quote from their forewords written by Kenny Leck, co-founder and publisher of Math Paper Press.

I usually drink soup without eating any of the contents used in the boil. In Issue 4 'Salted Vegetables and Duck Soup', I know it as 'itek tim'. I've no problems with the soup, but I won't touch the duck or the salted vegetables. Always thought it tasted weird.

Comfort food. Cholesterol food. Homecooked food. Heart attack food. Whatever one calls it, the dish SALTED VEGETABLES AND DUCK SOUP is no longer as commonly available as say Black Chicken Soup. Even the art of cooking a good bowl of soup can no longer be taken for granted. 

This dish is generally not considered a health tonic, but one served in a family setting. The soup sits in the centre of the table, and portions of duck, SALTED VEGETABLES, and soup are re-distributed into smaller bowls and given to each member of the family seated around the table.

Avoiding chicken nowadays, I indulge in the occasional steamed white chicken skin and sometimes, the rice. But mostly, I can do without them. If I've to sit down at a chicken rice stall, I'd like it to be Five Star or Pow Sing, or somewhere that has other types of food on the menu besides chicken. Issue 5 'Chicken Rice' discusses this much revered almost-national dish. It's really one of those national dishes that are inoffensive and hard to find a terrible version of it. Had to buy this for a visitor because he was completely obsessed with chicken rice, and ate it almost daily in the three weeks he was in town.

Chicken Rice can even be a National Bonding dish. It is enjoyed by all four races - and more - in Singapore, and it can be eaten 365 days throughout the year. How delightful it would be if there was an Annual Open House for 'Eat All You Can Chicken Rice' at the Istana during the National Day weekend. At least, President Tony Tan wouldn't be stereotyped as Colonel Sanders that often. 

During the monthly Meet-the-People sessions, complimentary packets of Chicken Rice could be given out too. It would get everybody in a lighter mood, and the common man, together with the politicians, even trade recipes to help improve the standard of Chicken Rice across the country.

Chilli Crabs!

Whenever visitors come through Singapore, we can't let them go without many authentic local meals. The friends found a common date and rounded everyone up for a zi char dinner at Ban Leong Wah Hoe Seafood (萬隆華和海鮮餐館), an apparently established and popular group makan venue that neither the man or I have heard of, much less visited. We were as clueless as our out-of-town-from-the-other-side-of-the-world friends.

We turned up at 9.15pm to a fully-packed eatery. Luckily we had reservations and the first round of diners were leaving and it was a short wait for a clean table. I love seafood, but am always wary on the matter of histamines. No prawns or fish tonight. We were a party of 10 and decided not to overdo it on the dishes. Stuck to clams, oyster omelette, some meats and plenty of vegetables and tofu. The food on our table was as fantastic as what everyone said. Our visitors were pretty used to Asian food and by stereotypical American standards, had rather adventurous tastebuds. When they said they "eat anything and everything", they meant it. Mexican peppers trained them well- they loved our type of spices and lapped up all the sambal kangkong and whatnots.

Of course there must be crabs. We couldn't let visitors go away without at least tasting those huge Sri Lankan crabs. Ordered crabs done in two styles- chilli and pepper. Gigantic crabs with plenty of roe-thingies. You know it's a good meal when all of us got down to using fingers and three of us accidentally flung gravy into our own eyes. Heh. Chalked up S$320 for 12 dishes in two hours. Best.

Ban Leong Wah Hoe Seafood (萬隆華和海鮮餐館)
122 Casuarina Road Singapore 579510 (no air-conditioning)
T: +65 6452 2824 (Reservations necessary)

An Afternoon with the BFF

Even though the bff has technically moved back to Singapore, she's not in town half the time. She's flying around loads more than I am, a combination of vacations and even crazier work trips. We gotta figure out a date to take a holiday together. Haven't done so this year! Even when we were in the same cities, we keeping missing each other by a day or two. Gaah.

Managed to grab her out for an afternoon for lunch at Open Door Policy. Took it slow and hung out late. Plenty to catch up on. Our mutual friends and all. She also had loads of gyokuro and kabusecha to pass to me. I had asked her for a favor to fulfil a shopping list when she was in Tokyo, and she obliged.

Then went book-shopping. That was the main task of the day. As much as we like e-readers, we still like hard copies and the pleasure of flipping through a couple of pages to decide whether to plough through the whole book. It's like, the Kindle follows us on trips, but we'll have one hard copy in the suitcase. Of course we found some titles to buy.  

Stalin's Games

Spotted a unread book in the pile. How could I have missed it?! It's the exact kind of book I pounce on. It was Simon Sebag Montefiore's 'One Night In Winter'.

Written in 2013, the book was set in Moscow 1945, during the terrifying times of Stalin's final paranoid decade of power. The story drew upon real-life characters of the Soviet elite, and their presumed 18-year-old children. The author cleverly weaved real historical figures and fictional names into the plot, making it vividly eerie. (Reviews here, here, here and here.)

At the exclusive School 801, among the children of the who's who of the Politburo and the Kremlin leaders, there was a new boy Andrei Kurbsky who was a son of "the enemy of the people". He had been granted permission to return to Moscow. He quoted Alexander Puskin, and seemed to stand for all the lost romance of Russia. There was an initiation and a Game reenacting the duel scene in Eugene Onegin. In any Game, contemporary readers will know that there will be deaths. (Not referencing 'The Hunger Games') Two such deaths occurred in the Game, shot each other with real guns that had replaced the fakes. The deaths brought in the dreaded venue of Lubianka, headquarters of the KGB. Something about unwanted "bourgeois sentimentalism". No parents dared to defend their children. The Kremlin got involved because Stalin didn't stand for any whiff of an anti-Stalin plot and everybody wanted to keep their secrets. Games within games within the Game.

Plenty of power play. There's a list of Characters right at the start of the book before Acknowledgments and Prologue. I kept going back to the list to be sure who's doing what. This was a thoroughly enjoyable read in all its twists and turns. Plenty of love stories going on. It came to pass that the main two characters seemed to be Andrei Kurbsky and Serafima Romashkina, the daughter of a famous actress and a film writer, she harboured a secret which was a boyfriend-then-fiance who was an American diplomat. But politics intervened. Cold War. Happy that the book concluded after the death of Stalin onward to 1970s, and gave us a peek into the characters that survived and how their lives turned out. I was curious enough to google the song that was referenced to in the story more than twice- 'Katyusha' ('Катюша', or Ekaterina or Catherine). It's a 1938 wartime song written by Mikhail Isakovsky and composed by Matvei Blanter.

Later, when she gives her testimony, she wishes she had seen less, knew less. 'These aren't just any dead children,' slurs one of the half-drunk policemen in charge of the scene. When these policemen inspect the IDs of the victims and their friends, their eyes blink as they try to measure the danger - and then they pass on the case as fast as they can. So it's not the police but the Organs, the secret police, who investigate: 'Is it murder, suicide or conspiracy?' they will ask. 

What to tell? What to hide? Get it wrong and you can lose your head. And not just you but your family and friends, anyone linked to you. Like a party of mountaineers, when one falls, all fall. 

Yet Serafima has a stake even higher than life and death: she's eighteen and in love. As she stares at her two friends who had been alive just seconds earlier, she senses this is the least of it and she is right: every event in Serafima's life will now be defined as Before or After the Shootings.

A Third Time :: Russian Circles

Third time I see Russian Circles play in Singapore. They're fantastic live and this round was just as great. Have I already mentioned that next to Dave Grohl, one of my favorite drummers is Dave Turncrantz? Their latest album 'Memorial' was released last December. Love their sounds. Something old, something new and all familiar. I definitely have something for bands whose brand of music doesn't contain vocals.

Giggled slightly as I hung out at Zouk. All about the nightspot closing down end of the year without relocation plans and all. Honestly, I don't particularly care. Yeah, I literally grew up at Zouk, stumbled around, puked all over its grounds and all that. But it's just another venue. There're the memories to hold. Went to like three ZoukOuts and gave up. Beach parties aren't quite my scene. At some point when I turned 32, the Velvet card that had a permanent slot in my purse meant nothing anymore. Meanwhile tonight, I enjoyed the fantastic acoustics that were arranged by KittyWu Records.

Quite a turnout for a Sunday night. Great vibes. Lovely to see many friends out and about. It also meant that the gig started early enough at 8.20pm and concluded by 9.45pm. Best. I was just happy to tumble back into town in time for the gig. Couldn't take my eyes off the C&C drum set. Three musicians filled the entire Zouk with gigantic sound. Woah. To the moon and back. Didn't matter that the next day began with a 7am meeting.

Fruits For Meals

On work trips, I miss the convenience of eating fruits, peeled and cut. Vacations are easier- I could hunt down fruits anytime at the markets. Berries are generally easy to pop and chew. It's the slicing of the other fruits that I don't quite fancy. Been completely spoilt as a kid- I don't eat apples unless they're sliced. The hotels that are familiar with my preferences or schedule do take the extra mile to send up fruits already peeled and sliced instead of greeting me with the usual fruit basket.

I'm one of those who can just gobble fruits for a meal. (Yes, that explains the 25 apricots and kernels ingested last week. Uggh. Never again.) I don't do that often though, since the sugars are not fantastic as consecutive meals. Not partial to dessert, fruits are the only kind of sweets I could bear. 

Some airline lounges in certain airports provide a great source of fruit vitamins and fibre. I love the variety available. Bleary eyed early in the morning at Sydney airport, I didn't want like...real food, but needed to eat something before the next meeting. Airplane food works for me, but often, I'd very much rather sleep through a flight. In the new-world hierarchy of needs, sleep and stable wifi rank high above food. Heh. Piled the plate high with colors. Avoided all forms of caffeine. Gobbled milk and juices too. Didn't want to have carbs since I would be stepping off the plane and straight into a boardroom to uhhh tactfully scold people. Carbs make me sluggish. :P  

Late Night Dinner

[This restaurant has closed as of November 2015.]

If you don't mind the loud volume of human voices, then supper at Fordham & Grand is always fun. I still like a salad or pasta if food is need at midnight or thereabouts. Often, I need more than bar snacks to fill the tummy when I'm really hungry.

Hopped into Fordham & Grand with the girlfriend for a late dinner. Drinks were available too. Perfect. I'm avoiding caffeine till the end of July calm the digestive system, but moderate amounts of alcohol seem fine. Heh. As long as I stick to the usual poisons, the stomach shouldn't be too upset.

I rarely go to cocktail bars unless I know they've a decent selection of whisky. I could do gin, but I'm not interested in trying out permutations of flavors. I don't like floral, sweet or cloying or sour. I could do bitter and standard. Few bars could grasp my gin preferences the way The Spiffy Dapper does. Of course I hang out there enough for them to know what I like. Even so, I like a clean gin and tonic. Nothing fancy, thanks.

The bartender offered a concoction with Cocchi Americano and Angostura bitters. I was really suspicious of the moscato thingy. I don't like dessert wine or anything similar. The final version of this G/T wasn't too bad, but already too sweet by my standards. No way I could do a second glass of it. Decided to stick to a regular G/T. Craft gins, good tonic water. Boring is good. Nothing funny to rile the tummy. Fabulous company for the evening. Red nails. All I ever wanted.

'And Tango Makes Three'

I love the library. Any library. The architecture, the smells, that spaciousness and most of all, the books. If I have fond memories of the local library, that's because it opened my world to fantasy, goth and gore. Nobody in my army of strict Catholic caregivers stopped me from checking out witch rituals. They wanted to know what I was reading, without having to hide from them. As a result of my particular interest in these genres which can be deemed as Satanic or the Occult, I stumbled across the concept of controversial books and a list of 'banned publications'. It became that I started buying those books on the lists. After reading them, it didn't take long to understand why they've been banned or how they're controversial. Every book opens doors to different worlds. Whether I choose to adopt a book's opinions or whatever, is dependent on my independent thought processes. A result of nurturing from my non-judgmental non-traditional family and the excellent education system. The harder you try to put me in a box, the further I intend to jump away from it.

I love how everyone is speaking up. National Library Board (NLB) isn't remaining neutral like a library ought to be. The Singapore writers have spoken out and some have withdrawn from engagements involving the NLB. This is their livelihood, and they're willing to make a stand. Twenty years ago, this wouldn't have been possible. So I celebrate that. For the rest of us, we pen short polite firm letters about our views to NLB and its parent Ministry. Whatever views are all making themselves heard. So I'm not certain about what the heck is a "community norm" anymore. (About Penguin-gate here, here, here, here and here.)

Your children, your values, your family, your rules. You do the parenting, not anyone else and certainly not the nanny state. You don't ask someone to think for you. And you don't deride the values others hold. Not if Singapore aspires to be the democratic society full of arts and culture like it has envisioned. Let us bring out debates over and over again in various nooks of society like what every progressive city does, and wisely learn to agree to disagree. 

We could argue till the cows come home about the reasons behind the ban. But one thing remains- PULPING BOOKS IS SO LAME. Of those books in our library fracas, I've only read 'And Tango Makes Three'. My copy is out on loan with the friends. When I was in Seattle, the girlfriend specifically asked me to buy this book for her children (who are at ages of nine, eight, three and two). Decided a personal copy is needed too. I like penguins. Appended is a a reading of the book. It's entirely your choice to hit 'play'.

实践剧场 ::《水往上流》

Hesitated getting tickets to 'FLUID'《水往上流》. Well, partly because it's in Mandarin. Even the English surtitles won't be too attractive because I dislike losing nuances in the script. Certain tones are lost in translation. The friends raved about it. I liked what I read in the reviews. Anyway, watching a Chinese play is more attractive than sitting through a xinyao (新谣) musical or concert.

Part of the M1 Chinese Theatre Festival 2014, 'FLUID'《水往上流》is written and directed by Liu Xiaoyi (刘晓义) of The Theatre Practice. The play asked, what is theatre? The blurb said the play "will challenge the notion of performance, theatrical space and the audience experience. In so doing, the performance attempts to examine “theatre”, in the theatre and experiment “stage”, on the stage." The stage was kept clean. There was a table, a vinyl player, a stark lone lamp, and a performer-host. In the far right corner, a gathering of plastic bags where a dancer moved silently. Those two worlds stayed apart till later, when they swopped and checked out each other's world.

We went back to basics. A storytelling via a voice over the radio or perhaps a recording. There was a vinyl player which I'm sure doesn't work that way. It was a good voice. Animated, dramatic and all. It told the story of a regular bloke, Lao Wang (老王), or old Wang. He worked a mundane job as a cashier and decided to sign up for a theatre workshop in the mountains where the teacher instructed the students to undress and strip in at least two lessons. Old Wang's experiences and thoughts would probably boil down to what everyone thinks, is this what art is about nowadays? Or what is theatre? What is art? There were 'technical faults' which were really cool. We don't see any of the characters in the story, but we imagine, and that's the beauty of this play. Every little detail was carefully crafted and worked into the story within a story.

The English surtitles were more than sufficient and competent. But I felt it funniest if we understood Mandarin. It isn't just about the tone. It's the usage of certain words that fail to translate to English that made a whole phrase hilarious. Also the image of a stern and unyielding fellow classmate nicknamed 'Priestess Mie Jue' (指峨眉掌门灭绝师太，《倚天屠龍記》) just doesn't convey the humor if you haven't read Louis Cha's (Jin Yong 金庸) sword-fighting novels. Not a need to know, but it's just...funnier.

Li Xie (李邪) and Lim Chin Huat (林 振发) were respectively the host and the dancer. Li Xie sang such a beautiful unaccompanied version of Hong Kong 50s and 60s star Yeh Feng's uhh...'Mystery Girl' (I dunno!), 葉楓的《神秘女郎》. The performers invited us to share the stage and suggested many definitions of art and theatre. Love the ending. Open-ended. The curtains were parted and the doors were thrown open. The audience faced the glass panels and the doors that they had entered from earlier. We became the watched.

What is theatre? As we merrily stomped through those plastic bags to the exit doors, the same ones the actors went out of, each formed our own conclusions.

Out At Lunch Hour

Some lunches I could pass on, but this, nope. Dear S is back for a bit. And time must be spent with her. Totally missed our chats! This trip sees her husband and children in tow. But she snucked out alone to have lunch with me. Heh.

Popped into Tatsuya for one satisfying box of rice. The chiraishizushi-don. Tatsuya's version is hands-down my favorite version of it. This was the first of many meals of sushi and sashimi lined up during S's short stay in town. She does get really fresh fish at home, but not quite in this style that she loves while growing up in Singapore.

And this would be S asking if I'd rather take a close-up photo of her phone screen that held a photo of the lunch box. Well, no need lah. Like this can.

A Day of Prints

Had a happy breakfast date with Y and Lil'Missy on a rainy morning. Can't believe the little girl is going to be in Primary One next year. Wow. I've seen this girl grow up as a wee baby to the articulate little Missy. Before our next appointments we had time to pop into Bloesem for a quick spot of shopping.

Y is a huge fan of bookhou as well, and wanted to check out its tote bags to see how the measurements come up in real life and how those dimensions fall as a cross-body bag on her. A pity the prints she wanted didn't come in the designs available at Bloesem. 

Lil'Missy saw the pouches and looked earnestly at them. I asked her in a conspiratorial tone which print she thought her mother would like. She told me. Hahahaha. Good girl! She was holding on to her mom's phone to take photos all over the shop. Oops. She has a keen eye on what's 'pretty' based on her mom's styling preferences and all those flipping of Kinfolk, Frankie and the likes. We came away with pouches and all. She was thrilled to own pouches in prints and colors she likes, and have one that matches my tote bag.

Prioritizing

I don't know how others do it. But human interaction exhausts me. This week and most of next will be spent in two offices across two cities, 14 hours a day. Some people asked about lunch, I said no. If it has nothing to do with the work at hand, I prefer to eat alone at my desk. If I don't have emails or papers to clear (so that I don't have to go home at 8pm), then I'll chill out. It's my down-time. Often I don't see a point in jostling with lunch crowds. Either I pack food from home, or a sweet assistant will grab me a salad or sandwich, and that hour is spent with a book, the laptop or by the window.

Suddenly, this second half of the year sees the work calendar flooded till November. Not complaining about the volume of work. Love it. But I just don't fancy the human interaction that comes along with it. It's draining. I'm not sociable by nature and very much prefer my own company over sitting down with those who aren't in the circle of intimates. I don't even like phone conversations. If I can, I rather email than to call or meet someone, even though the latter would be the wise option to shorten negotiations and erase doubts.

It's definitely time to take stock of how I prioritize paid work over non-paying projects. It's been great doing non-paying projects because the early half of the year saw less paid work. Now, it's booming. I wouldn't say the non-paying projects see a huge increase in workload, but everybody seems to want something done within the same time frame. That sucks. Everyone's demands are urgent. Whose do I cater to first?

Yesterday it came down to having to push away paid assignments for say, a non-profit-making Project Z which is more like a hobby. I resented having to do it just to avoid conflict with Project Z's partners. I had a paid project sealed, and I had to give it up for a no-matter-what-also-lose-money Project Z of which by now I've little patience for. There's declining interest in Project Z, and because of it, having to earn S$1200 less for that date in question (not to mention a loss of confidence in my efficient scheduling) resulted in a sharp decrease in overall enthusiasm for Project Z. I doubt it's a momentary annoyance. When a hobby turns too serious, I become damn siann because that's not the premise of the hobby to begin with. Something's gotta give. And they'll have to be the projects I don't have the tenacity to complete because it's an ongoing interest without an end date. The irony of that.

Turkish Tensions

Ran a finger down the shelves of the MIL's books to try to find something palatable. The MIL is a voracious reader. She likes classics both old world and contemporary. Her books can be shared with the man, but I prefer something less cerebral and literary. Anyway, I should be reading something off my usual gore and fantasy. Found Orhan Pamuk's 1983 'Silent House'. (Reviews here, here and here.)

The summary at the back of the book already bored me to tears. Lovely venue of a former fishing village of Cennethisar in Istanbul that has been turned into a resort town. The stories of a family that inhabit an old mansion there, their rise and fall in fortunes, their trials and tribulations, inter-generational issues, traditions versus modernity, the sorts. UGGGGH. Three siblings Faruk, Nilgün and Metin, doing their annual summer visit of their 90-year-old grandmother Fatma in the mansion by the sea. The old lady lives alone with her dwarf servant and deceased husband's illegitimate son, 55-year-old Recep. But there was something about right-wing nationalists in Turkey, and the fact that Orhan Pamuk wrote this against of domestic censorship and a contentious period in Turkish history, made it totally worthwhile to at least understand the author's intentions. Took a deep breath and decided to scan it fast and finish it in the hour before sunset. 

Years on, this novel is still so poignant in the light of Middle East tensions and revolutions. Reading about what's happening in Turkey may also shed light in trying to understand the people's feelings. Also, there's too much going-on between Israel and Palestine. I can't say tensions renewed because it has always been so historically. They trade places of victim and aggressor till the lines are blurred, and these tensions depend on the current issue of the month, and right now, is the treatment of dead teenagers both Palestine and Israeli, and both sides are triggering air raids, and clearly the side better equipped militarily has upper hand. But are all these human lives worth it? Civilians want peace. Two days ago, even a random watch of an old 2007 'Law & Order: Criminal Intent' S6E16 titled '30'  brought up plenty of food for thought.

I don't want to talk about what the story is. The genre isn't something I'm fond of. But I'm very impressed with the narrative. Every chapter has a long title and is written in first person narrative. It's very good writing and presentation of the characters' different viewpoints of complicated and complex issues, taking us back into the past and drawing on the present realities. Metaphors abound.

My hand reaches out like a silent cat and turns on the light, I touch the cold iron bars of the bed, but the cold iron only leaves me in a cold winter night: where am I? Sometimes you can't even tell anymore. If a person can live in the same house for seventy years and still be confused, then this thing that we call life, and imagine we have use dup, must be such a strange and incomprehensible thing that no one can even know what their own life is. You stand there waiting and on it goes from place to place, no one knows why, and as it goes, you have many thoughts about where it's been and where it's headed; then just as you speak these strange thoughts, which aren't right or wrong, and lead to no conclusion, you look, and the journey ends here, Fatma, okay, this is where you get off! First one foot, then the other, I get out of the carriage. I take two steps, then step back and look at the carriage. Was this the thing that brought us here, swaying all the way? Well, I guess that was it. So at the end that's how I'll think: that was it, it wasn't the most pleasant trip, I didn't understand a thing, but I still want to start it all over again. But one is not allowed! Come on, they say, we're here now, on the other side, you can't get back on again. 

~ An extract from the final chapter titled 'Fatma Finds Consolation in Holding a Book'.

Brunch at boCHINche

We figured that brunch at Common Man Coffee Roasters would be near impossible with that queue. Headed upstairs to boCHINche which was blissfully quieter. They're all owned by Spa Espirit Group anyway, sharing the same coffee beans and a consistent machine. My coffee came nicely done. Unlike Common Man Coffee Roasters, boCHINche doesn't do a piccolo latte. So we all ordered a flat white with very little milk.

What I like about the boCHINche, is that it offers a great selection for a fair bit of dietary preferences, and beef that is not wagyu. I absolutely dislike wagyu. It's supposed to be an Argentinian restaurant. Non-wagyu meat lovers will have plenty of choices there. The table had chorizo and all. Because Argentina is also home to unsurprisingly Italian pasta and risotto, those are also on the menu. There're empanadas too. Yay. It's brunch. So I ordered a tomato salad with a giant ball of mozzarella. We shared three baskets of bread. Delicious.

Like the coffee joint, the juices are a mix as well, and I don't quite fancy the mix of fruits. Not very fond of the hint of ginger or celery in anything. Had to pass over juices. Of course the table ordered alcoholic drinks. That chimichurri Bloody Mary was GOOD.

I Like Fish Sauce More Than Soy Sauce

Since the man strained his back so badly at the gym, we canceled all engagements for the day and stayed in for the night. Dunno why I suggested watching a film. While scrolling through the titles to decide which one to rent and download, I was reminded why the man and I rarely watch movies together unless it's of a certain genre, like machines or comic superheroes coming to life on the big screen.

He picked out 'John Dies At the End', directed by Don Coscarelli. Well, I did want to see how the film version constructed that monster of frozen meat. However, we both first read the original book written by David Wong (Jason Pargin, really). The man liked it; I didn't mind it. By and large, I'm not fond of film adaptations of books. (Reviews here, here and here.)

The man exclaimed, "What's not to like?! It's got all your favorite things. Gore, zombies, aliens, monster of frozen meat. Maybe even B-grade!" It really depends. I gave up on 'True Blood' midway through Season Two when I thought it got whiny. Even 'The Walking Dead' only held my sporadic interest. I must be one of those who like 'Pacific Rim' for its music and its Jaegers and Kaijus, ignoring the holes in the plot or cheesy acting and CGI effects. The man even welcomes movies that are clearly full-on romantic in plot and whatever nonsense. I absolutely detest those. Think '500 Days of Summer' and the ilk.

'John Dies At the End'. No he doesn't. Not really. Hahahaha. Let's just say I was bored to tears. It was so trippy that it flew right over my head. The drug that's named 'Soy Sauce' held properties to effect linear changes of time and perception, and travel between worlds and dimensions. While the idea was fantastic on paper, I didn't like how it was fleshed out on screen. I think I was too sober watching it. Should have gulped a whisky, or three.

In Love With Bookhou

Been a fan of bookhou's creations for years now. It was a label first flagged by the friends in Toronto. Love what they've been churning out. Helmed by John Booth and Arounna Khounnoraj, bookhou is "a multidisciplinary studio that emphasizes natural handmade materials and small production pieces".

But I've not bought any of their items till recently. Procrastination, I suppose. There wasn't any urgency to own these pieces. Was trying to hunt down some unique pieces in Seattle. Saw a few nice ones, but didn't fall in love. I still prefer bookhou's designs and feel. Decided to grab five items of bags and pouches online. Opted for ultra speedy shipping and the items arrived mint.

Photos really don't do these pieces justice. The stitching is tight and and finishing, perfect. The ink print on the canvas appeals to a minimal sense of aesthetics. The colors aren't offensive to me and importantly, they lean towards a sombre palette I'm fond of. Clean lines. Sometimes stark, and sometimes sweet, the prints match my clothes better than most other labels. At the end of the day, I like subtlety when it comes to bags.

It was quite a pleasant surprise to discover that the beautiful creative studio Bloesem in Singapore stocks bookhou. Come 28 - 30 August, Bloesem is hosting a Shibori dyeing class led by Arounna Khounnoraj. As much as I'm a fan, I'm not likely to join this class. Making things...doesn't appeal to me. :P I possess no artistic or creative craft inclinations.

For The Friends' Parents

The friends' parents are always super kind to me, and often by extension, to the man too. In their eyes, I suppose we're always errant teenagers. :P Aside from the festive occasions, I like to buy them something to say hello. But it's not like I've a clockwork schedule reminding me when and who to buy gifts for. It's completely random.

Was stocking up on bird's nest for the home and decided to get some extras for the friends' parents, especially for those whom I know cook bird's nest at home either with chicken or something in a meal, or as a 'healthy' dessert.

Passed a small box of bird's nest over to this girlfriend to hand it to her parents. I didn't realize it, but the gift also randomly arrived in time to match her father's birthday, as well as the successful completion of her mother's wrist surgery. Woot. Something to wish them well.

We're at the age where our parents are obviously ageing and for some, ailing. It's heart-aching to hear of failing health in the parents of friends I'm closer to, and especially painful if I know the parents well. Working with old folks and being familiar with the processes and feelings don't make the pain less severe. But such is the cycle of life, and for those I choose to be there for (and if the presence is accepted or tolerated), even if I can't help, I can run errands quite well and offer bits of emotional support.

Sunday Groceries

I'm not keen to do gigantic trips to the supermarket, i.e. load two trolleys full and lug everything home. Often, I prefer to split them into two trips during the week. Not that I'm so free to do it, but it's just that I've really picky tastebuds and cravings could just suddenly pop up all of a sudden. And not all supermarkets will stock what I'm looking for. It's easier to do two trips. Either to Tekka Market or whichever supermarket just for food, discounting all the non-perishable household essentials.

Technically, the man does the grocery shopping only if he has the inclination to cook. But he's been completely flooded and has no time to tinker with new recipes. Which is a problem. Because it means I have to sort out the food and I hate doing that. Not that I'm cooking. But even making a dashi and somen thing requires instructing the helper in the steps, not to mention telling her how to make the sambal belachan to the degree of desired spiciness for the fish. Grrrr.

This girlfriend is such a gem. She didn't mind popping by to do groceries with me at random locations over two Sundays. Muahahaha. First at Kovan Hub's surprisingly rather empty and well-stocked NTUC Finest and a second time at Isetan Scotts. I was kinda restricted by whatever the Sunday activities were; those were priority, and pushed shopping for groceries to late afternoon. The girlfriend and I could do coffee, but we couldn't linger because we needed time to walk around the supermarket to grab whatever supplies required. I'm not a slow shopper, but at the quickest, I would still need 20 minutes, of which five to ten minutes would be spent waiting in line to pay. She didn't care and just went about randomly poking at shelves and grinning at stuff. Best of all, both Sundays, she happily gave me a lift home. Felt so ridiculously pampered.