tree; writings

The wonder is that we can see these trees and not wonder more.-

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Trees are poems that earth writes upon the sky,

We fell them down and turn them into paper,

That we may record our emptiness.

Kahlil Gibran

superfriends in 224-B

i used to rush home from school...finish my homework (and sometimes writing lines!) in time to catch this series. it was a hit in the 80s. i lived inside keat hong village, in a kampong off choa chu kang. that was my unit address. finding this again on utube shocks & delights me.

dad will be burning bonfires at the backyard to repel the mossies. mom dishing up food at the kitchen. sis will be busy marking. my dogs, brownie and blackie will be near me. the series played...'tacky' wasn't part of my vocabulary then. and i was happy. picture courtesy of pchew-nostalgia.blogspot.com/2008/09/kampong-...i hope to find time to scan and upload some of my past one day...

knowing death

"Dont worry about dying - that will happen successfully

whether you worry about it or not"

quoted from a buddhist monk

i am in touch with a former student whose loved one is being given palliative care for cancer. he rests in assisi hospice, a special place i used to visit during my undergrad days and shared carols with the patients there. all have passed away but their smiles and presence remain, among the familiar and homely corners that are there. reading his open account (http://shadyz09.livejournal.com/) moved me. i too, am suddenly reminded of the many sudden deaths that marked my childhood and some stages of my adult life. beyond the people who died, this encounter was marked by countless visits to funeral parlours, crematoriums, cemeteries and once, even a morgue.

i learn to experience death even before i go. to me, that is a privilege that saddens, humbles but also frees me tremendously. over the years as a teacher, be it for lit or gp, i also conducted learning journeys to these resting places, perhaps a subconscious desire to help my students confront and befriend an inevitable part of life whom none can escape. i remember one particular trip where we stood, silenced by the sight of a simple a balloon above the gravestone of a child. it read- 'happy bdae, son.' often, to the uninformed, there is more fear than peace when it comes to the thought of death. death seems to sever all ties with the living. the pain of leaving our loved ones behind imparts a deep anguish that cannot be put in words.

on the other hand, it also makes us want to live life more intensely, grateful for every waking moment; be it a walk up a flight of stairs, sharing a great meal with people or simply, trying to capture rain, through art or photography. i experience my fitness, my vision and my imagination in these moments, convinced of my spirituality as a person, capable of every emotion that makes me reflect, think and feel. when every degree / work has been gained, all salaries spent and all loves expressed...this final stage and some say, 'takeoff' , leaves us in wonder, for more...we want to see what lies behind the veil of our existence...our soul against an open sky...tinted in blue rarefied air; a canvas inscribed with a promise, that very dream that lays waste will become whole again. and our joy, will be complete.

rainlight's home

When a defining moment comes along, you can do one of two things. Define the moment, or let the moment define you...meanwhile, we are enlarged in that waiting. We, of course don't see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful, our expectancy...

adapted: sharon cotner's comfort prayers

saw my final unit today. i made a commitment to it. a 21th floor apartment that overlooks all of west, much of malaysia, and the faint lighted seas of jurong port. within budget. this picture is an inaccurate figment of its real and humble form. but it fits snugly into my heart. that is all that matters. after viewing 12, 13 units for so, this is it.... it was raining when i viewed the flat with some close friends and family today. i saw rain streaking past the high windows, resembling the unlikely fall of snow. once a fantasy, now, not quite believing. our God blesses a longheld dream. it is coming true.

a route outside school

they were preparing for assembly. and they really sang- the national and college anthems, though the latter was much more audible in form and conviction. each of them will pass through these gates and we hope they do become hope for a better age.

even as footsteps lighten and noise dies down, one does wonder if there is anything more left to impart. aren't they supposed to be self-directed, learners in their own way? sam just passed me the following lines which were inscribed on diary...it has been quite awhile since another quote, in an instant, inspires a silence within that defers quick judgement and brisk reading.

Often I have tried the frightening way of 'reality',

where the things that count are profession, law, fashion, finance.

But disillusioned and freed I fled away,

alone to the other side, the place of dreams and blessed folly.

hermann hessse

on the evening before rain-

i want to say more under this rain but you stand apart

and away.

my shadow lingers in wait

as

lamplight keeps vigil

in the night

ahead

yoda of olde, pls come home

digitalised yoda in his heydays was no match for the wise and warm puppet that he was in his later history. compare the cheap lines of the first to the thoughtful script in the second clip. the latter was filmed in the 70s with limited technology. producers had to depend on other resources to 'move' and 'embed' a scene. the latest pieces in 2000 may have prioritised the sophistry of new media over thoughtful characterisation.

i will opt for zen and sesame street over rabid CGI in film technology.

(some galactic collisions), if i did not become another 'cher

we live parallel lives. some of these best scenes from star wars still enter in my waking dreams. was eight, nine or ten when i watched them. every boy then (now?) dreamt of piloting any of these starships, and volunteer for a battle scene. i have been clinging on to these galactic aspirations more than fifteen times since. i think i will take them to my grave... relive them amid a quantum of stars... nebulas... swirling in my elliptical heaven.

hail to lucas and the star wars trilogy...

life calling

LET SOMETHING ESSENTIAL HAPPEN TO ME
=======================================
O God,
Let something essential happen to me,
something more than interesting
or entertaining,
or thoughtful.


O God,
Let something essential happen to me,
something awesome,
something real.
Speak to my condition Lord,
and change me somewhere inside where it matters,
a change that will burn and tremble and heal
and explode me into tears
or laughter
or love that throbs or screams
or keeps a terrible, cleansing silence
and dares the dangerous deeds...


Let something happen in me
which is my real self.
O God,
let something essential and passionate happen in me now.
Strip me of my illusions of self-sufficiency,
of my proud sophistications,
of my inflated assumptions of knowledge
and leave me shivering as Adam or Eve before the miracle of the natural -
the miracle of this earth
that nurtures me as a mother
and delights me as a lover;

the miracle of my body
that breathes and moves,
hungers and digests,
sees and hears,
that is creased and wrinkled and sexual,
shrinks in hurt,

and swells in pleasure;
that works by the most amazing messages
of what and when and how,
coded and curled in every
cell and that dares to speak the confronting
word.
O God,
Let something essential and joyful happen in me now.

Something like the blooming of hope and faith,
like a grateful heart,
like a surge of awareness
of how precious each moment is,
that now, not next time,
now is the occasion
to take off my shoes,
to see every bush fire,
to leap and whirl with neighbour,
to gulp the air as sweet as
wine
until I've drunk enough
to dare to speak the tender word:

"Thank you"
"I love you"
"You're beautiful";
"Let's live forever beginning now";
and "I'm a fool for Christ's
sake."

- Ted Loder

as it is, as they are

i enjoy listening to mandarin songs even though my grades in the same language were nothing to be proud of. over these years, many songs have remained with me. they come back when i least expect it...on a long ride home, in the pool, reading at night, the rare day in a ktv pub... the quiet road tracing a journey's end.
half the time i do not always capture the full meaning of their lyrics. in my simplicity or rudimentary understanding (and sometimes with the patience and help of great bilingual friends), i receive a glimpse into the beauty of this language...i am no linguist but i feel some of these chinese songs capture & express a range of human experiences that find no equivalent to the types you hear in english songs (maybe except those sung in the 80s...then again, i am obviously biased). the phrasings and poetic nuances in some pieces express a depth that english cannot penetrate, let alone translate.
it's best to receive them as they are. again, i don't always understand what is written but it's sufficient to note i feel a tacit grasp for what they wanted to say...there's a story to this one. never has the theme of change been sung with so much loss, anger and anguish.




this piece is by kit chan. i heard her live, once in nus. the sound system went off but still she soared, her voice lifting the day. we came close to heaven.

crossing

2000

Lord, it takes awhile to chart the distance crossed,

rediscovering

the first affections that anchored hearts to place.

2004

it mattered to you that i claim

my will to live

in all the choices

that life offered

2006

i do not know if sometimes the emptiness may be loved,

but there lies a treasure

hidden

on foreign field

2009

no one knows what may happen

in the next crossing.

i will do what a child does

knowing

you command a tree over man

give grace and shelter,

believing

your happiness protects us

now, this day

and

always

adapted:

writings & poems of paulo coelho and yehuda amichai

-----------------------------

vigil

wailin, richard, pat and the monks of yarra glen are an important part of my life in australia. they taught me how to love, laugh, live and pray. never one to turn away anyone in need, they share their warmth & hospitality with all. i miss them. their home-cooked meals, their poetry and music, the herbs and travel tales they used to share with me. they helped me find my second home when i was studying alone then, in melbourne. they now live in uncertainty & much fear as their lives and property hang threatened by the fire that rages on in victoria state. many have chosen to stay behind for as long as they can to ward fire off their property. because that is all they have left...i don't know how long more they can fight. a recent phonecall to them assures us that they are well, exhausted but safe, each community taking turns to watch the night, patrol their lands and alert each other should they detect danger miles ahead. it does not help that the fires are spread by fierce winds and gum-rich eucalyptus trees.Lord, protect and bring to an end the fires that they fear. many are old. they are tired. they fear abandonment. alot of us struggle to believe in your care in the middle of this hell and madness.

Lord

restore those whose lives are ruined and torn by destruction.

you are with them in their fear and loss

you will save

Lord, give us faith,

help our unbelief.

----------------------------------------

the cistercian community at tarrawarra and the communities in healesville and all of australia ask for our prayers. for aid and for rain to stop the fires from raging and destroying their homes and lives

http://www.cistercian.org.au/

lor gambas: checkpoint 93

we can no longer tell
the difference between the cool jade of forest leaves and
the warm odour of sun melting sleeves, socks and boots.

the ground stings
with over-heated grass.
we can only stretch eyes this far,
attain some luck in stumbling, or succumbing
to the rising spells of emerald heat.

and there is fear of sundown...

our dreams morph

into sharpened ferns, chanting fields and

a moss of creatures creeping

to make sick these fantasies whispered

on our congealed beds of sweat raw chlorophyll...

the tale of the dead soldier lying beyond the night marsh -
he waits to join us again,

complete his final march.

* * * *** ***

my buddy treks behind me.
the day will not make him disappear.
his wet pores and clenched fists
secrete a secret will

to drag our bodies forth
to base camp.

never to arrive,
our desires liquify, blessing the ground
of our sacrifice.

picture courtesy of xiangxuan's account of ocs in facebook

heartspace

heartspace. i joined this community sometime last year, wanting to devote more time to ecology (i got my zoo posting!) and art to balance life & work. we meet on sat mornings. begin with sharing and close with a prayer, sometimes through song, a line from scripture or just begin a day framed in silence. and then we disperse into our own corners and pick materials of our choice. the hours pass in a simple play of colours. are allowed to experiment with any medium we wish; acrylic, crayon, clay, chinese brush, charcoal...anything that helps our heart to speak. when all is done, we place our works (in progress), sit back, distance ourselves from our pieces and comment on each others' works. there is no judgement. no appraisal. no grading. just (he)art speaking to (he)art, trusting the Spirit to guide us.

over here, i find courage to exorcise an old burden and rechart other undiscovered lands. i remember failing art for o-levels and labelled myself as a failure in that field for so many years. i never picked it up again until i joined heartspace. and these are the works i still create...the first piece was done in less than 2 minutes...a hurried attempt not to waste ink...i ceased the need to control. and spontaneity led to its genesis. for the second piece...i did not know the painting could be inverted (without losing its coherence) until another member told me so! 7 months lapsed between the 2 pieces i drew. the same blue tree appeared and inked the link between them. i still do not know what the blue tree said.

others resurrect a memory or loved one who went away. some portraits emerge from the dark terrain of searching and prayer, to reclaim a lost promise you once held with open hands.

you don't come here wanting to be an artist. you come- open, wanting to understand the process of becoming yourself again. though many members happen to be christian, we also welcome persons from other faiths as well. one of our members happens to be a buddhist who brings a different reading of life in her sharing.

i guess we don't always have a ready answer or reason for everything we draw. and it is ok to feel that way.

the same for life, wonder, love, pain, dreams and mystery. we don't always know their origins or haunting appeal to our spirit and psyche. but we chase, run away or experience them anyway...our need to be human is a gift we long to behold and re-create.


www.joannatan.com/heartspace.htm

a lost key pouch

i lost my keypouch last saturday evening. 3 keys to my personal drawers, an mart card loaded with $30 credit and $70. pouch was a gift from my sister last christmas and it smelled great in leather. i wrote my personal particulars on the card and pouch. any literate person would know how to return it. i woke early, took a bus and retraced my steps along shunfu road the next day. also alerted citicab, cold storage novena square and my friend for any possible trace or accidental recovery, just in case, in his place. still no news at this point of writing.

the following statements record the process of rationalisation that occurred within the week. so much for claiming to know myself so well.

Response A: i will try to ride on the spiritual assurance of a friend. she would pray. i too must pray. then i should trust God and await the miraculous appearence of my lost item. nothing lost, nothing broken- bible passage quoted in detail.

Response B: what if God answers 'no' in response? no further help for me. pouch does not appear. and never will. should i then lose my petty faith in God and trust him less?

Response C: believe it probably went to someone in greater need than me... maybe a poor family found it and decided to use it. mmmm..the amount would sustain their transport and daily needs for the next 2 weeks.

Response D:. still there is no need for them to do that, right? why can't they just take the card and money and return the rest to some police post? they could even call me and 'pretend' to be a good samaritan instead?

Response E:. why is God like that? why can't he even fulfil a simple prayer like this?

Response F: the economic crisis has hit alot of people. others have also lost a life, their loved ones or their jobs. what is a missing key pouch compared to other kinds of loss that people are facing? let go. com'on be grateful you even have a stable job in these hard times.

Response G: tsk....just be more alert next time, k? lesson learnt?

Response H: well, better to lose a key pouch and some cash than the handphone, an entire wallet (packed with ic, credit cards etc etc) or a passport! i am darn lucky coz it could have been worse!

there are other losses to come in life. one former student comforted me by claiming that one lost item hints of better tidings to come in one's life.

it is a tough 'act' trying to look on the bright side, to trust God (still) and not get overly entangled over the secular streak that is entwined within. i am quite a contradiction in terms- a social sceptic and spiritual optimist at the same time.

feb first: one life

this is a simple birthday song that carries much meaning for me. thanks to all who dropped notes everywhere in virtual, electronic and physical space to wish and celebrate with me. have always wanted to compile photographs from birth to now, just to establish an existential cope to the ways i've been, struggled and grown. i will do this by year-end(?)... am still be-coming...be-holding what this one life may mean for others and me. maybe a line or two from cormay's song may also light a path inside your heart as you celebrate your own birthday sometime this year, even if it had just passed.
___________________________________________________________

"When I was a child, I used to talk as a child, think as a child, reason as a child; When i became an adult, I put aside childish things...

...In the same way, we see now, indistinctly, as in a mirror. But someday, we are going to see God in his completeness, face to face. At present, I know partially; then I shall know fully, as I am fully known..."

1 corith: 13: 11- 12

Have asked that these words (esp verse 12) be engraved on my stone the day i leave earth for heaven. Birthdays help me remember my origin, my beginnings and my end. In between are many slips, detours, quiet peaks and rich valleys that have marked one life with many lessons, much wisdom and alot of beauty. Thanks to all for being a part of my life...i've also come this far because of you. Am grateful we share this one life together, our lifetime, our grace to be.

tell me on a sunday

am here every month on sat or sunday. i fulfil part of my childhood and undergrad dream- to study more about and handle live animals in a life-giving way... practise a little bit of zoology which i failed to take during my uni days.

that's a malayan stick insect. similar to the ones found in undisturbed forests over here. i get alot of fun getting visitors to spot them on the branch display. my guests register a childlike delight when they are able to identify these masters of disguise brought out for interaction and display.

that's my favourite queensland titan, found only in australia. harmless and defenceless, it rears its abdomen like a scorpion if disturbed. visitors hazard a good guess all the time. and the brave ones move on to put them on their shirts, caps or face. some adults squeal away but their children become their teachers on that appointed hour or so, they claim.

i spend these sundays unpacking the lore that hides in forest songs. we master terms like dimorphism, mimicry, parthenogenesis. live and play witness to the kid, tickling in us all.