Tag: humans

Style.

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With more free time, comes greater questions and more anxiety.

I can almost hear people laughing at my silly sentence. Isn’t free time great? You get to do what you are interested in! You get to enjoy life! You get to travel out!

True, but it also means that you have more time on your hands and butt, to sit down and start to properly reflect on the things you have done, have yet to do, would like to do, and the list goes on.

Everyone has different ways of handling free time, I guess mine is just on the other end of the spectrum. I spent alot of time thinking about things, and starting to dig things out, and start to critique my own stuff. The more I see, the more I think…

The more I pick apart my own work.

Everything I do, seems to be insufficient, measured against my own standards. And where the hell does my own standards, stems from? How did I formulate this notion of standards in my own head?

I subconciously lifted my arm to reach out for my phone, and without even flinching – I clicked opened a social media app. I mindlessly scrolled through the images, my eyes being bombarded with different visuals, colors, media, presentation.

At that moment of time, it struck me deep. I measured my own works with whatever that I picked up on social media app.

I am the green-eyed monster, who’s jealous of what others are capable of achieving, and I? I achieved nothing except hoarding thousands and thousands of images in my hard disk that I have shot over the years, many of which didn’t live to see the digital light of the day.

As the people on social media app always says – you got to be confident about yourself, then learn to love yourself. Only then you will shine in whatever you choose to do. Sure, I have no doubts about that advice, I think that’s brilliant advice! But Honey, you forgot to mention how hard it is to build up that confidence with whatever is left getting trampled on by others.

It’s ok, but we can all try.

I looked at the images I have, and I realize that I do not have a consistent style. It can also be accredited to the fact that I am a very moody person, and I shoot according to mood. So all the photos turned out very differently. ( I can almost hear someone going AH SEE EXCUSES LAI LIAO! )

But amazingly to others, they say that I do have a very distinct style, and they should be able to tell that this photo is by me when asked to differentiate.

Ok, perhaps I am not too bad! There’s hope!

Why that photo at the start of this entry? I’ve read Miss Ice Sandwich by Mieko Kawakami, during this short break of mine.

What hit home with me, was how Japanese authors have this way of creating beauty with simplicity. I love it in the way they saw beauty in our everyday life and quirks. The story was simple yet beautiful, and it allows you to rethink your life.

Still water runs deep. Something so simple, stirred something deep inside of me.

Perhaps, just perhaps, we need to learn to just put down our phones, judgement and schedules and enjoy the moment as it is.

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Who cares what style?

At this moment of time, I guess I really don’t quite care.

I feel pretty (not).

thehiamsLeave a comment

On Friday, I rushed down to the cinemas (alone!) so that I can enjoy the movie that I’ve been anticipating – I Feel Pretty.

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Firstly, it is starring Amy Schumer! Secondly, it talks about self-esteem issues. Lastly, I believe that it is supposedly pushing for the idea that I believe in the most – being unapologetically you wins people over, and not the facade that you put up everyday.

I was sold. I need to watch the movie asap.

I stepped into the cold cinema (can someone please educate me on why is the a/c in the cinema always so blood chilling cold? Was it a feeble attempt to help us burn calories whilst we stuff our face with popcorn?) with a bucket of popcorn.

Amy Schumer plays Renee Bennett, a woman who has low self esteem and is unhappy about her life (or her lack of life). She meets this amazingly beautiful girl played by Emily Ratajkowski, and desperately hopes that she will be as pretty as her – to the extent that she went out in a thunderstorm to toss a coin to make a wish.

The next day, at a spinning class, she hit her head hard and became…delusional, that she became the slim pretty girl she has always wanted to be – warning, stereotype ahead: pretty means having thin thighs, nice ass and great boobs, the icing on the cake is having a face with a chiselled jawline.

She feels good about herself and became very very confident, well, at one point of time confidence is good. Then over-confidence turned her into a douche.

There were many parts of the movie when I thought, hmmm, they could have delved deeper into the topic. But no, it remained a superficially happy movie.

Her friends never bothered to tell her that she looks the same? My friends would have tied me down with a straight jacket and sent me to the mental institute straight away. The moment of realization that she is still the same old her and not who she thought she would be didn’t pan out well, that 10 – 15 mins of speech at the end of the movie wasn’t enough to save the entire movie like I hoped it would. Her friends forgave her for being a douche after that inspiring speech on stage.

There was many times I hoped that they would have explored self esteem and stereotypes further, how a seemingly successful businesswoman has her insecurities, how a stunningly beautiful woman has her own issues as well. Imagine if you allow it to delve deeper, the message sent across in the movie – would have been stronger.

I sat there, defeated, when the credits rolled and the lights on. Not quite willing to believe that this is the end of the movie.

This is a waste of all the talents casted in this show. And lastly, it is a waste of a perfectly good idea and topic that needs to be debated upon – self-esteem, body image, gender roles, stereotyping of both men and women.

Meanwhile, I would just have to deal with the fact that I still don’t feel quite pretty after stepping out of the cinema, and landing on reality.

A day of my life

thehiamsLeave a comment

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Extra holidays are frivolous, so one must spend all the time outside with all the other folks who also didn’t work – says no one ever.

I am really thankful for friends who drive and volunteers to pick me up, to indulge in cafes that are out of reach.

We hit Da Paolo for lunch, this nice quiet cafe next to Botanical Gardens. It was no longer quiet after we entered the cafe.

In the typical fashion of me, I over-ordered. I had Carbonara and a large Latte AND an almond croissant (the last one of the day!). I think my brain registers all eating events as – GO BIG OR GO HOME. I usually end up as GO BIG THEN GO HOME.

I love the almond croissant, the crust, the almond, the custard and everything. I secretly wished that I didn’t polish off the carbonara, so that I can enjoy the croissant even more. Alas, the gluttony couldn’t bare to leave the plate alone.

After too much food, we head to Botanical Gardens nearby to (half-heartedly) walk off all the calories. The weather is sinisterly hot, which explains the clear blue skies. Our walk around the park lasted for approximately 20 minutes.  Botanical Gardens is a beautiful place (when not crowded with 19328478924698234 people having picnics), the scenery is very un-Singapore-ish, and is a good place for an evening stroll with your friends. Or perhaps ponder over our mid-life crisis. Or to have conversations with ourselves (but not too loudly because you don’t want people to call the IMH on you).

Because it was a non-peak day, there weren’t any dogs available to stalk pet. There were alot of screeching kids. We saw people in heels and high slit cheongsams.

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Walked over and saw the swans. All 3 of them, feeding on the attention that the crowd gave.

What magnificent birds! squealed one.

I look on with half curiosity and disdain. I hate birds, and they always seem to know that I have this morbid fear of them and charge towards me with malicious intent.

This one in the picture charged towards us with its wing all spread out. SEE! I told you the hatred is mutual!

Not peace-loving, no chill birds. I was looking at the tortoises ok, I wasn’t even standing near you!

I hate birds.

This is such an abrupt end to an otherwise happy post. I re-iterate that I am happy to hang out with my friend, just not too happy about getting chased by birds.

Life. Stories.

thehiamsLeave a comment

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Bangkok, Thailand.

As I ran in through the closing doors of the airport rail, I was greeted by this sight. I sneakily took a picture of this moment.

No matter where I went, the same subway moments strike me again and again. Everyone looks so connected, yet looks so…far, distant and disconnected at the same time. Together and disconnected, so I say.

Somewhere through the journey, I can’t help but wonder, what is on their mind? What is their story?

When I was young, I’ve always wanted the ability to read minds, because I truly believed that everyone of us have a powerful story to share. Behind every smile and tear, there is something that others couldn’t quite fully understand.

I feel you, but I truly don’t feel on the level that you do.

As I grew up, I learnt that the thirst of wanting to knows how others feel or what they are thinking – is called kaypoh. If you put it in better sounding terms, I empathize! But I’ll admit that I am more of the kaypoh type. I love it when people share their stories and feelings with me. More often than not, I would be the silent listener.

I don’t judge (outloud), and I don’t offer advice, because I realize that these 2 things are the things that people need the least when they approach me.

The listening ear indeed.

Sharing of stories, forms a true momentary bond between the speaker and listening. The unmistakable closeness. It is also due to the exact same reason, that, if given a choice, we would speak to strangers instead.

Stripped of the background, names, familiarity, we are nothing more than just humans. Humans with nothing attached to us. We have got nothing to gain, nothing to lose, hence we speak with our hearts and soul.

The easiest and often honest conversations always happens with strangers you just met. That auntie in the coffee shop, the grandma sitting on the benches, the uncle puffing his lung sacs away…

After the conversation, the bond breaks, and you are never to see them again. You carry on with you the wisdom, the lessons behind the conversations, to in turn, create your own.

Life. Stories.