Great Weekend!
Ohh I love Daph! :D She never fails to amuse me and she's just so wonderfully funny and nice as a person. She's like the sister I wish I had. Someone who speaks your mind, whom you can talk to about anything ANYTHING! And is horribly nice to get stuck in funny situations with. Case in point. I MSNed her while her dad was giving a lecture on her laptop. She describes it in greater detail on her blog :D Which I'll leave her to post the address of if she so desires. But when I knew about it I was like OMG. Haha... luckily I didn't say anything scandalous or secret. MSN is so scary sometimes!
Haha actually Jugs is scary too yeah? You never know who's reading it. I'm just writing here because I know I'll be reading it in the future and laughing at myself. You guys just go ahead and laugh at me now in the meantime :D
Mmm... but I guess I feel this greater urge to write simply because I feel like I'm losing my mind at times. Like I can't remember lots of things. It's no longer in focus.. that's what I feel. The content is there, but it's no longer at my fingertips like it used to be. Muscle memory is what I'm relying on now most of the time, a form of subconscious memory, but I really don't have a sense of the Now anymore. Everything is categorized into future and early past. Thinking of getting an MRI done because I know how my mind works... and it's not working the way it should.
I also love Claire! She played at the arts house at the old parliament, Earshot cafe on Saturday night, and it was amazing! I had a whole lot of issues before she played. With the sound guy, with my fatigue from Night Cycling the night before, with the talented singer/guitarist that needed a bass, with Mel, who did some emotional renditions of songs and familiar favourites. But Claire took my breath away because she wasn't just doing a rendition of a song. She was bringing me back to a place in her past. With a voice that changed tonally with each song, each phrase, each moment. Somehow after a while, the lyrics didn't matter, because I was entranced, and the lyrics and the music just changed the images and music bouncing within my head. I was just spacing out for a while, led by her. Like a connection...
But not really? Because everytime I looked into her eyes, I don't feel that she's looking at me. Perhaps it was the lighting, perhaps it was my state of mind, but I distinctly remember that she was gazing within when she looked at me. Perhaps her world resides there, behind the glassy cornea of her eyeballs.
Biochem Supp Viva Voce
I think it went pretty okay, quite honored to talk to the profs actually, and I think I had a great time telling them about my year in Biochem, even though they did intersperse it with some biochem questions that were way out of topic.
I think they mean well, and if they fail me or anything, I don't really have any grudges.
After all, academia is about walking behind the footsteps of Giants.
But I'm really grateful for all the people who've helped me so far. Kah Hua, who gave up precious time to tutor me, Cheryl, Shawn and Jon in the medlibrary, all those that wished me the best this morning, and Aileen for finding the mysterious set of notes that weren't titled Enzymes, but were about enzymes, and totally came out. Liyana, for emotional support and being positive. People who I bothered with SMSes when I was bored with studying, 3stans for being nice.. Nadia for being concerned, even though she was busy with work. Brenda too :D. Angeline :D. Candice. Geraldine. Ningyan, Michael Yam, a whole blur of faces, who took the time to talk to me, and make me feel better about the process. Band-Aid! Which is finally back in action. Thanks for their patience!
Strangely, a Christian song "Climb Every Mountain" was my favourite piano piece for the entire process. Somehow, just playing those chord changes over and over felt so soothing when I was terribly stressed. Somehow, the melody expanded into a symphony, the lyrics talking about birth, disaster, triumph and birth again, like a never ending cycle.
And my tuition kid almost made me cry. I gave tuition even though I had supps viva the next day, and I was teaching him mathematical models. I told him to draw 3 books and 2 pens and 1 comb, which costs $9.00. Mentally, I already drew those boxes of different lengths, and I just wanted him to get it over and done with. But he drew me these beautiful books, with a cover design, and pens with one or two nibs, and combs with a nice little emblem on the end.
And somehow I was just thinking to myself, how much further this kid has got to go in the world. How our education system strips his individuality from him and grades him not just on his mathematical skills, but on his ability to draw boxes like everyone else. How we take the fun out of mathematics, and never really replace it with anything else but a mark at the end. How we convert everyone into a mark, and forget that they are beautiful books, beautiful albums.
I went there with the intention to teach him, but he taught me something in the end.
No Compromise
So I failed my biochem supps and have to take vivas. But I'm not going to change anything up there. I'm not going to compromise, I'm not going to study for an exam. I am going to study because I love the subject, and because it'll be useful for my patients next time for me to understand the topic instead of regurgitate the information.
Sometimes you've just got to do what you believe in to the end.
Biochem Supps
I just can't believe that the moment I've been waiting for is finally here. Was just thinking that what I gained from this supps experience is not only the biochemical knowledge, but it's also gaining a better understanding of the subject and science in general, and finally learning to put in the work that's required.
To all those who wished me well for the exam in three hours time, thank you for keeping me in your thoughts, and rest assured I'll try my best for this exam. But even if I don't make it, at least I've gained through this experience, a friend in you.
Anyway I probably have the most complete set of Biochem notes in the world, thanks to Harun, Nadia and Emily, who supplied them to me a while back, and I'm probably going to publish one of those M1 guides soon. So any freshies reading this, if you want a counsellor for biochem, come my way!
Okay, if it doesn't work out later, at least we can be classmates :D
Kenneth has the potential to do better
I've always had that written on my Result Slips. Without fail, every teacher I've ever been with would write that at the end of the result slip under Teacher Appraisal. I think it's quite the running joke among the teachers, otherwise why would they all write the same thing?
But I guess my decision to enter Medicine has been validated. In this place, under all these circumstances, I find myself finally being forced to used the skills I've collected over the years. I feel more alive, I feel more.. satisfied. I'm doing the things I love now, and I'm doing them for a good reason. Somehow in this place and with these people, they motivate me and push me on to greater heights. They're all so high flying and so beautiful, and I'm shining now only because I am so close to the sun.
Icarus fell when he soared. I'm afraid of glory for glory's sake. I wish no one would know what I've done before and what I think we can achieve now. But we're pushing at it. All of us. I'm so happy when we push. I just hate it when I'm done pushing and standing in the glare of the sun. What's there left for me when the work is done?
I feel so lost, but so satisfied today. I'm working now teachers.. I'm working now.
Driver's High
I almost died today again. This is like the third time I've almost died in the past two weeks. Kinda scary how easily it is to go when you're driving around.
It's a mixture of fatigue and lack of choice that makes us take risks and drive while totally tired, like when I sent Liyana home, I made it to her house, but getting back on my own without someone to talk to and having to drive almost 30 mins in the dark was pretty scary.
I had to drive my mum to work some days too when I wanted the car, and my mum has the annoying habit of waking me up after she has dressed, and had breakfast, cos she wants me to sleep more. But that doesn't even give me time to grab a coffee.
Today's the best. I actually groggily slept my way in the car, and realized when I reached the airport that I didn't have a cup of coffee or anything to eat this morning, and I didn't have my glasses. So I made my way back in a fog of blurry stuff. And I couldn't call anyone to have a cheerful conversation, so all I managed to do was to sniff some Axe brand oil (which saved my life this occasion and a bunch of times before) and try to stay awake.
When I say I almost died, it's due to a phenomenon called microsleeping. And today, I microslept during a curve, and ended up in the next lane just inches away from a truck in front of me. Luckily the road was clear, and I had a big enough shock to step on the brake and slow down. It's the first time I actually changed lanes while microsleeping. The other times I maintained the same lane so it wasn't nearly as dangerous.
I couldn't read the road signs either unless I was really close. So I was peering while trying to keep my eyelids open with levator palpebrae superioris, while snifting the oil with the other hand, while driving with one hand. But I made it back to write this so all's fine :D
Hmm... I was very intrigued by the neurological aspects of it though. The thing about lifting up your eyelids consciously to fight sleep, I can see as long as my pupils do not descend into darkness. The lack of sense when you feel horribly tired, like when Axe Oil smells like candy, you know your senses are dulled. How motor functions are retained, but retarded due to the decrease in feedback between hands and eyes. How you feel hungry acutely, like it feels almost direct. How your mind gets very confused when you look into the rear view mirror. I know my mind couldn't handle all that information and when I looked into the mirror i blanked out.
Interesting isn't it, as I found out in Australia, I'm pretty analytical while drunk. I just can't do anything about it.
Driver's High
I almost died today again. This is like the third time I've almost died in the past two weeks. Kinda scary how easily it is to go when you're driving around.
It's a mixture of fatigue and lack of choice that makes us take risks and drive while totally tired, like when I sent Liyana home, I made it to her house, but getting back on my own without someone to talk to and having to drive almost 30 mins in the dark was pretty scary.
I had to drive my mum to work some days too when I wanted the car, and my mum has the annoying habit of waking me up after she has dressed, and had breakfast, cos she wants me to sleep more. But that doesn't even give me time to grab a coffee.
Today's the best. I actually groggily slept my way in the car, and realized when I reached the airport that I didn't have a cup of coffee or anything to eat this morning, and I didn't have my glasses. So I made my way back in a fog of blurry stuff. And I couldn't call anyone to have a cheerful conversation, so all I managed to do was to sniff some Axe brand oil (which saved my life this occasion and a bunch of times before) and try to stay awake.
When I say I almost died, it's due to a phenomenon called microsleeping. And today, I microslept during a curve, and ended up in the next lane just inches away from a truck in front of me. Luckily the road was clear, and I had a big enough shock to step on the brake and slow down. It's the first time I actually changed lanes while microsleeping. The other times I maintained the same lane so it wasn't nearly as dangerous.
I couldn't read the road signs either unless I was really close. So I was peering while trying to keep my eyelids open with levator palpebrae superioris, while snifting the oil with the other hand, while driving with one hand. But I made it back to write this so all's fine :D
Hmm... I was very intrigued by the neurological aspects of it though. The thing about lifting up your eyelids consciously to fight sleep, I can see as long as my pupils do not descend into darkness. The lack of sense when you feel horribly tired, like when Axe Oil smells like candy, you know your senses are dulled. How motor functions are retained, but retarded due to the decrease in feedback between hands and eyes. How you feel hungry acutely, like it feels almost direct. How your mind gets very confused when you look into the rear view mirror. I know my mind couldn't handle all that information and when I looked into the mirror i blanked out.
Interesting isn't it, as I found out in Australia, I'm pretty analytical while drunk. I just can't do anything about it.
Violence and 3D games
After watching the Chow Yun Fat show on TV, the headaches came back again.
I think I played too many FPS (first person shooter) games in Secondary school. So much that it has become instinct. When I enter a hallway, I immediately check the corner, and then make a mental map of potential enemy entrances and the distance I'll have to swivel my mouse to target that corner.
After all those years of gaming at high stress levels, it becomes... second nature. And everytime I watch a movie with those gunfights and action, the instinct will just kick in, and I will just zone in naturally. It's a very.. nauseating experience outside of a game because you don't have the aural and visual clues you need to respond quickly, and everything just takes you by surprise.
Sometimes I wonder if we're being trained for war in the computer games we play. The alertness, the premonition, covering your blind spots, stalking your prey. Being always cold, calm and collected. Being an object in a game of chance. Being death.
Winning in a FPS is being death. It's about not jerking the mouse when you're startled. Believing that you will dodge all the bullets fired at you. Aiming for the head. Being in the zone, where time slows, and you are watching yourself play.
It's weird, but I can never watch a war movie passively again, without feeling that I'm back on the battlefield, without feeling that it's more than just a game.
Lazy afternoons
The afternoon has a rhythm of its own.
The air swirls as it enters the room,
Like the breath of a gentle giant
In a deep slumber
Dreaming of food and drink.
His heart beats, sharp and tinny
Like the ticking of a clock,
In phase with the rhythm of his breath
While the world holds still.
In fear? Or awe? At peace.
This deadly slience, this glorious silence
Filled with the lassitude of a lifetime
An inertia, a weight, a gravity
An eternity,
Lying there, wide awake, but trying so hard
To go to sleep.
Happy blog
Hey! I just got to report that my blog's been happy lately even though tagboard is down. I know cos usually my blog is shades of grey or pink or purple, but today and yesterday, it greeted me with bright orange and bright pink! There's a small algorithm generating the colour changes, and it's very RARE to get bright colours. So yay blog! Happy you're happy!
Superman Spoily!
If you plan on watching Superman the movie, stop reading now.
Well I caught Superman the other day, and from the first note of the beautiful orchestral score, I just fell in love with the music. When was the last time you heard such cheesy music played so gloriously? I don't mean it in a bad way, like I hate the Superman theme, more like.. OMG it's the 21st century and there are no special effects here? Just orchestral music?
It wasn't a good movie plotwise. The antagonist seemed to have an unlimited supply of those island forming crystals. And they couldn't decide if an island forms because the crystal comes into contact with water, because the crystal comes into contact with kryptonite and water, or the crystal must be thrown by the human hand into water. Cos the entire package of crystals on board the ship sank, and I was wondering why new islands didn't sprout in their place. And the girl was throwing 6 crystals into the water near the end, and there wasn't this huge explosion. I don't get it. Why does the reaction sometimes work?
I love Superman. I love it when he goes on those joyrides, when he romances women and brings them to heights they've never been. When he basks in the glow of the sun, or thinks in space about the wretched world below him. When he becomes the persona of the perfect gentleman.
But he's wretched too, he can never step out of his gentlemanliness quite far enough as Superman to bag the girl of his dreams. Superman Steals Lois! I bet that's what the papers would write. Yet as Clark Kent, he constantly gets a hard time from Lois, and a steady dose of reality.
Why is it okay to watch your love interest through elevators and the privacy of their own homes or eavesdrop on their conversations as Superman? Cos when he does that, he isn't really the perfect gentleman isn't he.
I think Superman bears the weight of the world on his supershoulders. In order to effectively fight crime, he has to be larger than himself. He has to instill fear in criminals. But Superman as a person is dysfunctional being larger than himself. He can't fufill his needs as a person in the form of Clark Kent, and he can't or doesn't want to use his secret identity as Superman to win Lois. How does Clark win? Because he obviously knows how, from his experience as Superman. But in the end, he is fighting against himself. The superidentity he is, vs the weakling identity he created.
Should he get married to Lois as Superman? Should he pursue her as Superman? Should he marry her as Superman? Superman isn't like Richard. Superman can't be there all the time. Everytime he soars, he hears humanity calling out to him for help. Everytime he looks at Lois, he hears his own humanity calling out for help. He can't be both Superman and married. He can't be there for everyone. And when he's gone, everyone hates him for leaving. He simply can't win. Would Lois be happier with Superman? Yes! But would Lois be happier in general? No. Because although Lois is with the love of her life, Superman might not be there all the time.
What's the point of getting married to someone who's never there?
Sensitivity
So I've been leading an almost completely musical existence. Listened to this wonderful performance by a drumming group at the Esplanade, who played Djembies and Digeridoos. It's so interesting to hear a performance based only on rhythm, and the only "notes" being those of the digeridoo player (who has marvellous circular breathing!). He managed to play for 3 mins plus, without taking a single breath. Amazing dude. And the really good performers were really good. You had this urge to just shriek and dance in the middle of the Esplanade library, which wouldn't be very cool. But they attracted this huge crowd, and the beat was infectious.
I was walking along the Esplanade passage from City Hall, and they had this purple wall exhibition, with beautiful collages of women in various poses and this Techno trance beat going on. Techno is just my thing, but it's not always, because the really bad ones, from those just starting out DJs, are just mixes of existing tracks with the catchy beat of the moment. But the really good ones are the ones that mix moods, sonic colours, bass beats, fills. It's a totally different level of expression, where the bass notes change in tone to fit the mood of the track, there's panning at places to give a sense of movement, ritards, a tempos. DJing is about all this colour, about orchestration, rather than focusing on the minute like oooh i can wiggle my fader and make cool beats. It's about big ideas, big big big ideas cobbled together from little ones. I love techno. It's so cool when someone is so skilled he can express himself in his music, and make use of all the options available to him
I never really understood photography. Or at least, I'm not good at the modern photography. My style is more similar to that of Cartier Bresson, capturing of moments that just flicker past. Probably due to my own laziness. Once I've got the shot, I won't go back and tweak and admire it. Nothing good comes from a bad photograph. And I think the finder at the back for all the digital cameras is actually a bad thing for new photographers today. It's harder to develop a loose style and a heck care philosophy when you're burdened with the images of your failures. I always cried after a photoshoot involuntarily, because my eyes would get so dry peering into that finder, examining the composition, the framelines, the settings, as compositions change moment to moment. My eyes would get red and raw and tear. It was intense. Now I'm more relaxed. I don't have to capture every good moment. I don't have to be prepared all the time. Just let the actions flow by. But I admire the photographers of today, like the one at the esplanade passage. They have expanded the language of photography and blurred it with design. Who says images have to be restricted to a setting, a back drop, a subject? They have melded the image with design. The texture of a photograph is nothing more than an element in a grand design, just like a line or a geometric shape or a shading. And the photos by themselves are great.
And well music. I think music was probably the first skill I developed at RI. Seperating out instruments in a symphonic band, and their positions based on the sound. Instead of hearing them as a section, I forced myself to hear them as individual voices and after a while, it was possible to just focus on one voice and hear him/her perfectly and mute the rest. Then there was this TCS show about how people can affect the subconscious by inserting frames in between the video presentation, and I had to see it for myself too. So I trained myself to see the artifacts on TV. All those individual frames at 24 frames per second. TV and Movies never became the same again. When you examine the individual frames, you'll see that they're really bad. But it was a useful skill when watching Evangelion, cos of all the flashing images sequence. It's good to take in a few at a time. And then my uncle gave me a set of good headphones, and while listening to the band at school, and orchestral recordings on MP3s (back in the days of napster), I learned to listen out for distortions and dropped sounds.
What is this reality we live in? Most people don't know what they want until it's shown to them. Most people are happy with whatever they have because they've not seen better. Are they any worse off if they do not pay as much attention to the details as we do? No. They are happy where they are, and it would be foolish to move them. But an eye for detail is something that connects us to the greats of the past and the greats of the future. There is a subtext in all great works that make them great. Something that may not be obvious at first glance. 80 percent of the structure of something, is probably based on convention, limitation and is probably written in 20% of the time. But that 20% extra, that not many might appreciate but is the artistic signature of the artist, that is the statement made by the artist, might take 80% of the time to do. And it is a statement that will live on for years in the books and collections to inspire future generations.
