Bittersweet.

The first week of Year 3 is over. 1 down, 28 more to go.

Gee, that was fast. I haven’t exactly done anything, but many things have happened. I’m taking a printmaking elective, I got a kitten, I have studio space, and I still have doubts.

Can a person be happy and upset at the same time?

Like the word bittersweet. ‘Bitter’ and ‘sweet’ are two different tastes altogether, and yet, when you put them together, they form a word that describes ‘arousing pleasure tinged with sadness or pain’, and personally, one of the most beautiful words in the English language.

That’s how some things are, to me. When I feel like I’m prepared to fall into a dizzying well of depression and a state of sadness from which I cannot be rescued, there is a warmth that lifts me from this spell, and yet, ever so often I crave the cold again.

It’s two things at once, you and me. No matter how many things we agree upon, there’s always something that drives us nuts. But that’s what I love. That frustration of being with you, it reminds me of what I was without you, and reminds me of what a difficult person I am (and what difficult people we are).

I love you, and I love being with you, because it reminds me that I’m alive.

Love is not some shell of comfort that people find to crawl inside of, and rest in peace. No, love is so much more. And I don’t plan on giving that up any time soon.

Home is a concept.

My reluctance to leave my house will be my own downfall, but I can’t help but feel attached to the walls of my room. It’s like part of my soul wants to remain in this room, because it feels safe. When no one can see you, no one can touch you, and no one can hurt you. It is this fear that eats me from the inside. And I worry it will never leave me.

On a much brighter note (and to put it very plainly) I have received another scholarship. Same benefits, but they changed the name. They call it an ‘academic achievement scholarship’, but it is essentially the same tuition fees and allowance.

Academic achievement. What does that even mean? What have I ‘achieved academically’? And how does that compare to what I have achieved in life?

A lot, I say. It was the moment I came to terms with the end of my first scholarship that the second one happened, and I’m still at a loss for words. After the first semester of straight As,  I was beginning to worry that I was concentrating on the wrong things. The second semester was one of distress, of pain and suffering, and internal turmoil. I was so emotional, and fragile. But that’s the way life is, and I’ve had to learn how to let go the hard way. I had to lose things to learn how to live without them, in order for me to better hold onto the ones worth holding onto.

The second semester, my grades dropped, but not too far, but I feel a lot better about myself, because I have proven that grades don’t have to control you.

Success comes in different forms.

Personal success, academic success, and success in life are very different levels of expectations.

For the longest time, I depended on academic success to determine my personal success, but that is slowly changing, and I am eternally grateful to God, and the special people in my life who teach me (in subtle ways) how to let go of some things you have no control over in the first place.

For the first time in a while, I can genuinely say my life is beautiful, and I am happy. My life is not perfect, and I am not perfect, but I know things will improve, and I will improve. And for that, I am truly grateful, and genuinely happy.

Cheers.

Have I ever?

01. Bought everyone in the pub a drink
02. Swam with wild dolphins
03. Climbed a mountain
04. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
05. Been inside the Great Pyramid
06. Held a tarantula.
07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. Said ‘I love you’ and meant it
09. Hugged a tree
10. Done a striptease
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Stayed up all night long, and watch the sun rise
15. Seen the Northern Lights
16. Gone to a huge sports game
17. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
18. Grown and eaten your own vegetables
19. Touched an iceberg
20. Slept under the stars
21. Changed a baby’s diaper
22. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
23. Watched a meteor shower
24. Gotten drunk on champagne
25. Given more than you can afford to charity
26. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
27. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
28. Had a food fight
29. Bet on a winning horse
30. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
31. Asked out a stranger
32. Had a snowball fight
33. Photocopied your bottom on the office photocopier
34. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can
35. Held a lamb
36. Enacted a favorite fantasy
37. Taken a midnight skinny dip
38. Taken an ice cold bath
39. Had a meaningful conversation with a beggar
40. Seen a total eclipse
41. Ridden a roller coaster
42. Hit a home run
43. Fit three weeks miraculously into three days
44. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking
45. Adopted an accent for an entire day
46. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
47. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
48. Had two hard drives for your computer
49. Visited all 50 states
50. Loved your job for all accounts
51. Taken care of someone who was shit faced
52. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
53. Had amazing friends
54. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
55. Watched wild whales
56. Stolen a sign
57. Backpacked in Europe
58. Taken a road-trip
59. Rock climbing
60. Lied to foreign government’s official in that country to avoid notice
61. Midnight walk on the beach
62. Sky diving
63. Visited Ireland
64. Been heartbroken longer then you were actually in love
65. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger’s table and had a meal with them.
66. Visited Japan
67. Bench pressed your own weight
68. Milked a cow
69. Alphabetized your records (CDs)
70. Pretended to be a superhero
71. Sung karaoke
72. Lounged around in bed all day
73. Posed nude in front of strangers
74. Scuba diving
75. Got it on to “Let’s Get It On” by Marvin Gaye
76. Kissed in the rain
77. Played in the mud
78. Played in the rain
79. Gone to a drive-in theater
80. Done something you should regret, but don’t regret it
81. Visited the Great Wall of China
82. Discovered that someone who’s not supposed to have known about your blog has discovered your blog
83. Dropped Windows in favor of something better
84. Started a business
85. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken
86. Toured ancient sites
87. Taken a martial arts class
88. Swordfought for the honor of a woman
89. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
90. Gotten married
91. Been in a movie
92. Crashed a party
93. Loved someone you shouldn’t have
94. Kissed someone so passionately it made them dizzy
95. Gotten divorced
96. Had sex at the office
97. Gone without food for 5 days
98. Made cookies from scratch
99. Won first prize in a costume contest
100. Ridden a gondola in Venice
101. Gotten a tattoo
102. Found that the texture of some materials can turn you on
103. Rafted the Snake River
104. Been on television news programs as an “expert”
105. Got flowers for no reason
106. Masturbated in a public place
107. Got so drunk you don’t remember anything
108. Been addicted to some form of illegal drug
109. Performed on stage
110. Been to Las Vegas
111. Recorded music
112. Eaten shark
113. Had a one-night stand (it doesn’t have to be sex)
114. Gone to Thailand
115. Seen Siouxsie live
116. Bought a house
117. Been in a combat zone
118. Buried one/both of your parents
119. Shaved or waxed your pubic hair off
120. Been on a cruise ship
121. Spoken more than one language fluently
122. Gotten into a fight while attempting to defend someone
123. Bounced a check
124. Performed in Rocky Horror Show
125. Read – and understood – your credit report
126. Raised children
127. Recently bought and played with a favorite childhood toy
128. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
129. Created and named your own constellation of stars
130. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
131. Found out something significant that your ancestors did
132. Called or written your Congress person
133. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over
134. …more than once? – More than thrice?
135. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge
136. Sang loudly in the car, and didn’t stop when you knew someone was looking
137. Had an abortion or your female partner did
138. Had plastic surgery
139. Survived an accident that you shouldn’t have survived.
140. Wrote articles for a large publication
141. Lost over 100 pounds not all at once, but after losing, gaining, and then losing again, it adds up
142. Held someone while they were having a flashback
143. Piloted an airplane
144. Petted a stingray
145. Broken someone’s heart
146. Helped an animal give birth
147. Been fired or laid off from a job
148. Won money on a T.V. game show
149. Broken a bone
150. Killed a human being
151. Gone on an African photo safari
152. Ridden a motorcycle
153. Driven any land vehicle at a speed of greater than 100mph
154. Had a body part of yours below the neck pierced
155. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
156. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
157. Ridden a horse
158. Had surgery
159. Had sex on a moving train
160. Had a snake as a pet
161. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
162. Slept through an entire flight: takeoff, flight, and landing
163. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours
164. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states
165. Visited all 7 continents
166. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
167. Eaten kangaroo meat
168. Fallen in love at an ancient Mayan burial ground
169. Been a sperm or egg donor
170. Eaten sushi
171. Had your picture in the newspaper
172. Had 2 (or more) healthy romantic relationships for over a year in your lifetime
173. Changed someone’s mind about something you care deeply about
174. Gotten someone fired for their actions
175. Gone back to school
176. Parasailed
177. Changed your name
178. Petted a cockroach
179. Eaten fried green tomatoes
180. Read The Iliad
181. Selected one “important” author who you missed in school, and read
182. Dined in a restaurant and stolen silverware, plates, cups because your apartment needed them
183. …and gotten 86’ed from the restaurant because you did it so many times, they figured out it was you
184. Taught yourself an art from scratch
185. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
186. Apologized to someone years after inflicting the hurt
187. Skipped all your school reunions
188. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
189. Been elected to public office
190. Written your own computer language
191. Thought to yourself that you’re living your dream
192. Had to put someone you love into hospice care
193. Built your own PC from parts
194. Sold your own artwork to someone who didn’t know you
195. Had a booth at a street fair
196. Dyed your hair
197: Been a DJ
198: Found out someone was going to dump you via LiveJournal
199: Written your own role playing game
200: Been arrested

Dig Deep.

‘Happiness’ is a concept. It is a idea, that promotes optimistic, positive thinking in negative-ish situations.

For example.

‘If only I had a _________, I would be happy’.

‘If I could _________, I would be happy’.

But doesn’t that leave a very big hole if the _____s don’t get done or don’t happen? When we mentally draw the line for us to cross in order for us to be happy, we set ourselves up for unnecessary disappointment when the line is not crossed.

I have been playing the wrong statements in my head my whole life. If I was thinner, I would be happy. If I was smarter, I would be happy. If I could draw better, or carve better, or weld better, I would be happy. If I maintained good grades in school, I would be happy. If I had a cat, I would be happy. If I had more money, I would be happy.

It’s time to change a few of these statements, and to everybody reading this (who actually give a rat’s ass) please bear with me through this period of mental and psychological renovation.

I’ve been thinking about it very carefully, and the truth is, I am happy. I am quite happy. I have a God who thought someone like me was worth saving. I have a family that drives me mad, but loves me very much. I have a boyfriend who doesn’t like women who look like ten-year-old boys. I have  few, but great friends to laugh through difficult times with, some I don’t see very often, but are no less of a friend in my eyes. I study at a school that may not have the best system, but works well enough (and is magically surrounded by the most delicious food places in the entire country). And, I may have a faulty jaw and faulty back and faulty eyes, but I have taste buds and a stomach in good condition. I am suddenly very thankful that I can walk normally, and run if I wanted to, and laugh and cry and see and hear and smell.

(you must think I’m mad by now. Like, what the hell has this girl been thinking about.)

You’re right. What have I been thinking about? I believe there is no such thing as ‘wasting time’ before an exam, and its taken me long enough to find out. I’ve been digging deep into my inner swirling thoughts and dreams to fish out what could possibly be my ‘artistic concept’. And it’s not easy.

When it gets too personal, people will say I am self-indulgent and egotistic.

When it gets too pro-female/anti-male, people will say I am a feminist artist.

When it gets too childhood-experience-y, people will say I have daddy issues, and need to just get over myself.

But the truth is, everything happens for a reason. As as arts student, and as a hopeful future practicing artist, I hope people will change the way they look at art in Singapore. We’re too cynical, skeptical and ignorant, all at the same time (you see, even the way I say that makes me all of the above). If only we could one day realize that art is not something pretty on your living room wall, or something realistically rendered, or something that the world doesn’t need. One day, Singaporeans have to realize that art is the best way to tell a story. And the good artists are the people with stories to tell: collective memories, societal issues, etc.

The other day, TBH was saying that because society’s not giving to artists, he thinks artists should say a big F you to society. I don’t agree. Societies and art go hand-in-hand, because every artist was from some kind of society, and under some kind of upbringing (or lack of upbringing). I’m just saying, that a fish that complains the ocean is too salty can’t decide to reject water, cause it’ll die. It has to be smart enough to grow its own wings or legs, to change its situation.

(reading through the whole post again, I realized I jumped to quite a few topics. But hey, what do they all have in common? They all had to pass through here first -points to forehead-)

Good night, everyone. May your dreams be sweet and inspiring.

(such so precious thus)

“Because no matter what happens in the world,
no matter how terrible life turns out to be,
no matter how cruel people are with people,
no matter how far apart we fall,

and no matter how much of ourselves gets left behind in places we’ve been through,
the fragile things I carry are those I’ve held with you.  ”

Today was precious. I never want to let it go. Thank you, for seeing the best in me and forgiving the worst.

(btw readers, pictures can be found on weheartit.com if not stated otherwise. )

Never good enough.

Due to the unfortunate incidence of cockroaches, high humidity levels and dust, I will never have the room I dream of. I have to share my things, share my space and share my life. I’m slowly beginning to realize I am a very private person, and would love so much as to have my very own house, studio, home. I want a place where I can block the world out, and build my own world. Where nobody can enter, unless they promise to be understanding and forgiving of my space, because my space is an expression of my mind.

As of now, my mind – my thoughts- are shared, are public, and are not entirely mine. And it pains me to continue this way.

But I must, I must empty myself over the next year or so, because only then can I fill myself with the freedom: the freedom of post-graduation, of beginning my working life or continuing my studies, or simply the freedom of a life as a young adult. Contrary to popular belief, I take my life very seriously, and I hope I will not lose my way, because I’ve just realized that I’m living my dream, a dream I’ve had since I was three, to study art and build what I wanted, so people could see what I saw.

But man. Where do I go from here?

Someday I’ll soar.

It’s a gentle kind of depression. I’m so thankful for everything I’ve been given, and so angry about everything that has been taken away. I feel like I’m ready for the next stage of my life, when the truth is I’m not even close. I feel complete, and yet, I feel like half of me is trapped under the weight of a car in a traffic accident and I can’t escape because part of me is left behind. I feel torn into two, and yet, I feel a strange kind of resolve. I love being alone, but I absolutely hate being lonely. There is a difference, you know. Sometimes all people need is themselves. But not me. I need so many things, too many things. So much that it drives me absolutely MAD that I don’t have them all. I feel trapped in my own thoughts, and it takes a lot to pull me out of it (but it’s not happening. I’m being pulled in even more every day I’m alone).

Oh, sweet sunset.

You slept so much, and when it seemed like you had just emerged from behind your curtains, you fall back and return, leaving us to fumble around the darkness again.

Now it seems I sleep as much as you used to, except it’s summer where I am.

I miss your soft glow through the winter cold. Take me back there someday, will you?

Second week of school.

As you might be able to tell, from the most boring post title in the universe, I am feeling extremely uninspired.

Well, I wouldn’t say uninspired is the word, because I sort of feel ready to work again. But I don’t know how to start. I feel stuck, and afraid. Afraid of making mistakes, afraid of offending, and worst of all, afraid of opening up doors that have been nailed shut for so many years.

And lately, I haven’t been able to control my temper well. It hurts me to know I hurt the ones around me, and I try so hard to keep it inside, and to calm myself down. But whenever someone remotely resembles him, I lose it. I get mad and offended, even disgusted sometimes. I feel angry, and I feel anger towards a person who is not there. A person I can only feel, following me around, inside me.

This is a person I cannot talk to. This person does not care about me, and does not think about me. This person is the stranger I had to grow up with, and yet know too well. It disgusts me to think of him, and yet, in recent weeks,  is all I can think about.

I guess I never really had the kind of closure I wanted. To be able to stand in front of him, slap him, kick him, tell him. Tell him how much I hate him, and how much I wanted to love him. Tell him that I never want to see him again, after I see him one last time. And yet, with every bit of me hoping I’ll get to confront him one last time, I wonder: If he really were to stand before me, what would I say to this person?

It angers me, and it breaks me inside. Because nobody has seen him, nobody knows him the way I know him. And I see him everywhere others don’t. I don’t remember what he looks like, and yet I am reminded of it in every man’s silent stare. I don’t remember what he sounds like, and yet I hear it in every angry voice, every frustration, even my own (above all, my own) and I wish to silent myself so that I may never hear his voice again. So I can forget him, once and for all.

But does anyone understand, or do I still sound like I made everything up?

Just long enough to explain.

Modern Art is driving me crazy.
Modern Art in the Common Culture is driving me nuts.
The Return of the Real is driving me insane.
Investigating Issues in Art  is driving me up the wall.

I’m being driven everywhere.

It’s funny how your eyes open when you’re eighteen. I’ve probably noticed many things already (before actually turning 18) but it’s a strange age. Forget the superficial things. At eighteen, you’re six years older than a child, and three years from being an adult. It’s time to strike a balance between getting my way, and giving way. Time to be serious, and time to have fun. Time to lose it, and time to know when not to. It’s difficult, to find that balance. Because not everybody behaves as they should, and that leaves the rest of us less room to be ourselves, sometimes =/

Well, Julie. It’s time to grow up, and grow out.