tree-heart

ken's granny passed away on a tuesday. loved, loving...in dedication-


a sky crumpled and silent... and this cold rain. God may take the sun away. but the tree of grief still stands. we rest under. and pray. an imagined faith made perfect in memory. leaves fall and draw me to a faraway home. to our shelter and past. these albums, the pages of our stories, to be held and noticed once more. i read the lines you penned on its symmetry now that you are no longer there. listening, and missing you, i long to be a child again.

Grief by carol ann duffy (b. 1955)

Grief, your gift, unwrapped,

my empty hands made heavy,

holding when they held you

like an ache; unlooked for,

though my eyes stare inward now

at where you were, my star, my star;

and undeserved, the perfect choice

for one with everything, humbling

my heart; unwanted, too, my small voice

lost for words to thank you with; unusual,

how it, given, grows to fill a day, a night,

a week, a month, teaching its text,

love's spinster twin, my head bowed,

learning, learning; understood.

----- to furanshi------

three friends

we've known each other since 1992. one of my best friends. edward left a good career in family medicine for the catholic priesthood, to be a different healer in ways we least expect. last sunday, he flew to rome to continue his studies. it will be three years before we meet again.

f's relationship crumbled after many years of commitment. it's hard to begin again.

cons completed a musical recently. i watched her sing her lines from the depths of her own heart. the stage broke open that same heart...we learn what it means to forgive.

a shower's just fallen. from my window, i see old trees renewed, fresh with rain.
they grow still,

grateful,

present.

they learn to receive.

and every tree has its past.

life goes on...

we hold your journey safe with us

travelogue- jun 09

'born of stars, how can we not burn?'

mount kinabalu-sabah, east malaysia

imprisoned by cycles of rebirth...

buddha looked, and understood.

cheung chau, lamma island- hong kong

the dead learns to rest.

while we pause, and love what remains.

khao lak, thailand

beginnings

never knew i would hold an art exhibition in my lifetime. i thank my teachers joanna, kowling and my community at heartspace for the opportunity to share our works on this occasion. i am moved by the support and presence given by my family, colleagues, former students and lifetime friends who turned up to celebrate our journeys with me.

all pieces were sold and some asked if i was happy to 'achieve' this. unknown to many, i flunked art at o-levels and these three days turned out to be a way of letting go a burdened past that scarred me somewhat...i wished my art teacher was here.

on a deeper note, 'achievement' isn't really the point. i was just happy that all of us took courage to share our stories through our works. many took time to read, ponder and listen. that was enough for me. it motivates us to continue painting and sharing our experiences of life, wonder and Christ with others who come our way.

beyond monetary affirmation. my teacher shared once that every painting has a owner out there, looking for that one piece. they know it when they see it. and will readily adopt it into their home...

i like that.

private faith

in our anguish we struggle

to elude him, to lie to him, yet his love observes

his appalling promises; his predeliction

as we wander and weep is with us to the end.

minding our meanings, our least matter dear to him.

w.h. auden

i learned, i learned, when one might be inclined

to think, too late, you cannot recover your losses-

i learned something of the nature of God's mind,

not the abstract creator but he who caresses

the daily and nightly earth; he who refuses

to take failure for an answer till again and again is worn.

patrick kavanagh

line of trees in may

leaves fall on the month of may. it was almost three years back when i last caught maples dusting the air with applescent . and recall story of lives covered in autumn reds.my hands listen for rain.

where trees in gold

rewrite dreams once more.

drawn by grace...

dear friends...

a group of us will be holding an art exhibtion at nus cultural centre from 26-28 june 2009. we'll be sharing pieces that we have been working on for the past year or so, depicting our experiences and interpretations of life and our journeys. this is my first.

personally, i feel quite intimidated, having to share my works with more experienced artists. i have not forgotten my sad grades for o-level art as well! it's good to exorcise these demons for good and step forward with hope and courage

please drop by if you are free. looking forward to your quiet support.

for more info visit -
www.stmary.sg/paulthemusical/artexhibition

a shining life

i enjoyed myself thoroughly at the recently-concluded raffles dance night where students showcased their best award-winning performances shown on syf. the delicate power and sensitivity for the piece depicting the experiences of japanese comfort women was spell-binding to say the least.indian dance's shakthi and another modern piece, ecstasy was equally inviting with broad strokes of indian feminist mythology and contemporary macabre igniting the soul.

what would our world be like should dance be spilled on the byways of our strait-laced city life, beyond the ndp orchestration that we see annually? this happened in antwerp, belgium. i couldn't care less if it was a staged event or not. it tells me so much about our common capacity for delight as a human community, a fact often drowned amid the intellectual discourse that sadly covers up our potential for playful celebration against the imposed monotony of industrized & 'contemporized' existence.

avila

Simone Weil has described prayer as a patient waiting with expectancy. It is a paradox of tension that combines the absence and the presence of God; the already and the not yet; the returning and the going; tender loving possession and the agony of searching for the lost...

george maloney: alone with the alone