The tempest strikes, tumultous in her dance
A blinding stroke, a roar of rage
It had been forecast.
Rolling squall blows over
A smattering of tears, licking of wounds
Soothing warm winds carress the skin in its place
A brief romance
Respite from that algid sorrow
Till it comes round.
Yet again.
Somewhere over the rainbow, the grass is always greener on the other side.
Lord - can you hear me now?
Tipping the scales, too little too late ...
DJ, selling her voice to the night;
MJ, another missing soul from once-crossed fates.
A snap and a bite at days of steadfast friendship -
and all for pointing out the truth!
An embalmed hand protrudes out. Unraveling, unraveling.
A quiet pier, harsh sodium vapour, a shower of stars.
A sleep amongst the casuarinas, a fall into the pond.
Red shirts and white words, a fallout.
Tears stream down your face, gonna look back in vain and see you standing there.
A little lead toy soldier on a mantelpiece.
An intense look at it takes aim with its toy gun.
Tears stream down the hollow inside.
Tears of lead.
Tinnitus.
Vaguely, the sound of conversation drifts through the walls
warping into white noise a second later
Tinnitus. It continues.
A reassembled anatomy.
Heart in the mouth;
Heart on the sleeve.
Ice in the veins;
Fire in the chest.
Freak!
Tinnitus continues, air changes its very substance
A goo. Viscous. Suffocating.
No attempt to get out.
As the last golden leaves of the malleorn falls, the green mound remains in the woods of Lothlorien.
Then comes the Rhododendrons.
Their eerie beauty, with a skirt of mist
a wig of vivid blooms
and wild cologne.
And the rabbit said to the hare,
'Next time my garden floods, you must help me scoop out the water.
For, my garden concerns you - we are neighbours.'
7 weeks on, the hare's garden was infested with beetles.
'Help, neighbour', the hare called to the rabbit
But the rabbit said to the hare,
'I can't, dear neighbour. I need to harvest these carrots to eat.
Anyway, beetles aren't dangerous.
Leave them alone, they'll go away once they've eaten their fill.'
Unraveling of the sarcophagus with the golden death mask: revelation.
Pushed forward by tides shrouded in dark deceit; an epoch draws nigh
See! That stallion indomitable -
looking back in rue even as the Earth is swept from beneath him: despair.
Toeing at the brink of a chasm
Choices? Laid bare.
Suppress, yes yes! The fiendish one with a soft warm glow,
then back into the tides of dark deceit. To what end?
Grief awaits. Grief, dressed in angelic raiment.
Or sit, amidst clairvoyance - and with hope and salvation
trying in vain to reach beyond the fortress;
a fortress put up with wanting that very same end,
a fortress, crafted unwittingly from that shroud of deceit.
Gripped by an intense fear of undoing all that's been done,
a choking desperation.
Help?
Alas, not at the brink.
Darkness comes.
Pardon me for being crude, but I seriously had a near-orgasm when listening to this virtuoso's rendition of a piece that requires one to be at the pinnacle of technique. Hear it, and see if you got the shivers too! And watch for the left-handed pizzicato (string-plucking) and the beautiful bow technique. You may hear more recent attempts, but I doubt many could do the bow like Jascha Heifetz.
Having this awful feeling of being strung-up, pent-up and having this buzzing haze all around me. Get what I mean? For lack of finesse, some would call this an 'irritable' mood. Something inside wants to drop everything and just lie in bed, gazing at nothing and melting away from being; but another part of me wants to leap onto something - anything - and just gnaw it to bits with an unearthly savagery. In the span of hardly 24 hours, I've been a nanny, aunt agony, investigating officer, social worker, healer, worker, administrator, beggar, lawyer, planner, contractor. I would dearly love to have DIII with me right now so I can cut through hordes of monsters, putting certain faces onto each of them, and indulge in this transcendence into fantasy. Or better yet, if I could warp into a portal where bludgeoning people isn't a crime, and where I didn't possess a conscience, then perhaps this would ameliorate a lot of these frustrations inside. In this brief moment I can just barely begin to understand some people's psyche in listening to death metal.
Yesterday's photography was quite a lousy experience, towards the end. But first, some positive things - Yx's makeup person, Christina, turned out to be quite a gem despite my now-undue worries, so at least we feel reassured that she'll be well dolled-up for November! Also, Yx got to wear 2 other gowns for FREE for the photoshoot, and they looked really good on her. Our photographer's brother also sprang a nice surprise on us by turning up and making a short film during the shoot, which was really unanticipated.
But alas, the darned weather sucked BIG TIME, and it didn't help that the dear incompetent staff at NEA forecast 'showers with thunder in late morning and early afternoon' - when the truth was it bloody hell rained for the entire day all the way till 9pm. They ought to be sacked. So in essence, our outdoor shots were essentially ruined, as was Yx's dress and my tux. Well if we look on the brighter side, it was a unique shoot. I haven't seen many wedding shots done amidst rain and mud. Brownie was also completely uncontrollable, uncooperative, and naughty - although that wasn't unexpected. We called Don from the boutique before heading out, and the lovely soul reassured us that it'll be ok to dirty the dress. However, at the end of the evening the dress wasn't just dirty - it was downright filthy. Yx was so upset over the whole thing, including the trashed dress, that Don and Yap had to console her. I'm glad they thought the dirty dress was a small matter though, as they seemed to be confident that it can be expertly restored. Regarding the bar that we shot at, it was pretty nice, but all the same, I was frankly annoyed by the unprofessionalism of the bar staff, who kept coming into the frame. Not that it will help very much, but I have shot a rather nasty letter to their administration office about the session.
I'm trying to figure out some way to re-do a shoot, and maybe this time, if Yx trusts my skills, I can do the shoot myself. But as Don was saying late last night, it really doesn't matter in the end, as we know that she'll look great in November. =)
Just a quick pic, the 3 of them (Yap, Don, Alice) busy working on dresses. And NO, THESE ARE NOT YX'S. I didn't believe it at first either, but they really do the stitching and adornments themselves, by hand.
It's photoshoot day!! Got moms car packed to the brim with our clothes and various props including some of mom's antiques. Originally wanted to bring my own guzheng, but I borrowed Wei's instead cos hers is prettier. =) Hope all goes well, and the weather cooperates.
The poor people at Ted's worked through the night to make the gown happen for Yx, and we really appreciate their dedication. For some reason, Don was slacking and chatting with me last night while Alice was working like a bee on Yx's fitting.
