The first is an online essay about the qualities of an introvert: apparently, introverts are quiet because their brains are hardwired to absorb a lot of information all at once and do not need the same degree of external stimulation as an extrovert, lest they become overwhelmed with all the sensory data they are picking up.

The other is the recent news that Volkswagen has begun a trial 2012 programme in which the company servers will stop delivering emails to selected employees ‘ Blackberries after office hours, allowing these executives to have better control of their work-life balance instead of being on call 24/7.

How do these two articles relate to me? I find comfort that there is a possible physical explanation for my introverted personality. I am what I am because I cannot go beyond the limits of what nature has given me. So why be pressured to be a social butterfly if I can’t be one in the first place? And part of the reason why I am a writer is because of this introverted side of me that allows me to reflect and articulate those thoughts into words on paper or on the screen.

The Volkswagen announcement illustrates another concern of mine. There are so many things (necessary and unnecessary) that one has to attend to in this modern day and age: Work is all-consuming, Family and Household Chores are always demanding, Friends need catching up with, Facebook and other online pursuits are calling…  Whether you are an introverted personality or not, it is hard to find and spend quality Me-time to groom yourself, to sit and reflect and, if you are a writer, to write… It takes a mighty conscious effort to organise your schedule and switch off the outside world and focus inward.

During this past December, I spent two happy weeks not thinking of anything else except my writing and I completed two short stories. We will see in the next few months as the demands of 2012 grows whether I can continue this serendipitous streak of creativity… Think OHMM… Feel OHMM… Be OHMM…

Gone are those times.

Last Sunday, I went looking for my last Christmas presents. I entered only one mall. One department store, two shops and two hours later, I had bought the necessary, but I was entirely drained out.

To recover, I found a cafe. I sat down, had a cup of green tea and pondered.

On one hand, I was sad: I had to admit I am no longer a spring chicken and I’ve lost my shopping stamina to search for bargains and withstand the frenzy of the crowds.

On the other hand, I wondered whether all my efforts had been worthwhile. Would the people whom I had shopped for really appreciate the gifts that I had bought them? Or would they just nod and smile pleasantly when receiving their presents and then later stuff the things unused into a cupboard to be re-gifted or sent to the Salvation Army later?

Such thoughts then led me to consider how materialistic all of us living in modern society are. Our actual needs aside, we are told by advertising that our lives will not be perfect unless we acquire XYZ, we help fuel the economy by buying what it says we need, we are given stuff that people think we need, we work towards achieving what we desire, we bury ourselves with things that we imagine we need.

When he was still alive, my father was a serial hoarder of junk. He inundated the entire house that my family was living in then with anything from car parts to cheap fourth-hand clothing from Sungei Road. I am not as bad as he. Nevertheless, I still collect certain things: for instance, books. I already possess more books than I will probably read in my lifetime, and I’m still buying and running out of space to store them, despite yearly attempts to cull my collection.

We could all probably exist happily with less. But whether we really desire to live with less and thereby reduce clutter, wastage and our carbon footprint — that is the key. So during this season of giving and gifting, I will mull over the following:

- Throughout history, there have been people, the religious/ascetic types, who have given up material comfort to live simply and focus their lives on meditation and other spiritual pursuits.

- Not long ago, I read online about medical studies in India being done an ancient yogi who is able to survive just on breathing and has not eaten or drunk anything for many years.

- A few years ago, I also read about some Western artist who decided to make a symbolic statement by giving/selling all his material possessions away and burning what he could not to restart life afresh with only the clothes on his back.

Perhaps these examples will inspire me to reduce, reuse, recycle more. Perhaps not… An iPad calls, even though I have two laptops and many notebooks to write on…

Merry Christmas, World…

Not so long ago, I was quietly sitting by myself at Subway one such Thursday night, nursing an ice lemon tea and trying desperately to mark exam papers to meet a deadline.

Four young men, all friends in their late teens or early twenties, sat at the next table to eat their sandwiches. With typical exaggerated bravado of that testosterone-filled age group, the four were posturing and chatting away loudly about their respective activities and concerns.

I cannot remember the exact content of their discussion. The main thing that drew my attention to them was not so much the level of the noise they were making, but the words that were coming out, especially from one particular young man.

Practically in every other statement that this young man was making, the ‘f’ word in all its grammatical ramifications would pop out. Every 30 seconds or so, he would say the ‘f’ word as liberally as Singlish speakers can pepper their speech with ‘lahs’.

The prudish matron in me wanted to stand up, confront the young man about his public crudity and demand that he be more careful and courteous to others. Unfortunately, caution stepped in. What impact would a stranger really make on the future behaviour of this young man? So I did what most Singaporeans do: minded my own business.

However, the writer/presentation skills aspect of me was appalled by this young man’s mindless usage of one of the strongest words in the English vocabulary. Please understand: I am not against using the ‘f’ word: in fact, I do use it occasionally, and usually to release some kind of heightened emotion at a particularly vexing moment (and usually muttered to myself). If said so casually like the young man did, the word loses its potency with overuse.

I pitied the poor range of this young man’s vocabulary. Imagine when the occasion warrants genuine swearing, what sort of words could the young man use anymore? “F’… “F, F”… “F, F, F”??? How absolutely bland…

Then my imagination ran wild. If only the caregivers of this youth had exercised discipline when he was younger and literally scrubbed his mouth out with a toilet brush every time he uttered the ‘f’ word, perhaps he would have been instilled with better manners and a higher respect for using words appropriately.

Other new year resolutions for 2012 (not necessary in priority order):

- I complete my first book of short stories, entitled Dark Things.

- I reach and maintain my ideal weight.

- I read widely and research deeply for my novels to come.

- I demote Cityville within the priorities of my life.

- I sleep by 11 pm and wake by 6 am.

- I write at least 2 hours a day.

- I control my snacking.

- I take proper care of my sinuses.

- I exercise every day in some form or another.

- I am nicer to everyone in my life.

- I manage my time better.

Hmm… Isn’t that a chunky list already? And I haven’t even reached the juicy bits as yet… How I am going to reach/keep/maintain these goals, and the many others not listed: I guess time will tell.

New year resolutions are a very interesting study of a person’s concerns, interests and aspirations in life–a key insight into his/her thinking. What speaks louder: the things that are on the list, or the things that aren’t? If you are reading this and don’t know me, I wonder what kind of impression I would leave on you and how you would be imagining what sort of person I am… Hmm…

I arrived in San Francisco on 3 June. As I am writing this, it is 12 June. How time flies…

So what have I been doing since I arrived? Slowly discovering the city of rolling hills at my own pace, instead of being rushed around tourist-mad in a matter of 2 or 3 days as per my previous visits in 1985 and 2002. Very rarely have I had this luxury of slow exploration when abroad…

A note about the weather: Extremely variable. It can be very warm and bright (extreme blue skies and eye-blinding sunny), or dull, foggy and cold — in a matter of hours or days. I’ve noticed one thing about the fog here: seen against the right coloured background, you can see the water particles suspended in air. They can hit your exposed face like microscopic ball bearings that go ping, ping, ping against your skin.

I’m told it rarely goes below freezing here. Yet one thing I’ve noticed is that the wind, even on sunny days, can be cold by Singapore standards. While I’ve used my fleece jacket a few times, most days I go about with at least my vest over my t-shirt. I just could not wear my t-shirt only. It is no wonder that the homeless people on the street wear so many layers despite some of the more well-off San Franciscans going about with shorts and t-shirts. By comparison, today 12 June is very warm – almost like Singapore, minus the humidity. I believe it is the 1st really, really warm day for the year. So warm that I could not wear my vest and wished that I was wearing shorts (and not pants) and that I had not taken out with me two layers of clothing which hampered my mobility (the vest and jacket being tied to my bag). And of course the San Franciscans that I saw on the street were all lapping up the sun in the skimpiest clothing possible.

I met Joan Holden last evening for dinner and a show (more about this later). [For many years, Joan was playwright/dramaturg at the San Francisco Mime Troupe until she retired last year. I met her last year when she conducted a playwriting workshop in Singapore that I attended.] She told me something about how the Native American Indians of this region characterised the seasons here: “the season of green grass, the season of acorns and the season of fog”. How very, very true…

The grid system that San Francisco is laid out is of course similar to the other big American cities, especially in the downtown area. (Another similarity: the gum-dotted sidewalks — that Lee Kuan Yew would so disapprove of…) But where it differs is its rolling topography — the scenes of many Hollywood movie chases in downtown SF where you see cars and hubcabs flying as the vehicles go over the bumps of the hills and barely screeching to a halt inches away from a cable car.

Public transport (bus/tram/cable car/subway) is fairly easy to understand and use — although I am still learning where the various roads and districts are — I keep getting onto buses that go in the opposite direction that I want to go. For instance, I wanted to go to the Golden Gate Park yesterday. According to advice from the local transportation website, I had to take the subway (called BART) to Glen Park and then take a number 44 Muni bus to the park. When I boarded the bus after getting out of the BART station, I got on the 44 and only discovered when it neared the terminal point that I had boarded it in the wrong direction and then had to ride the bus back in the right direction. However, the long bus ride showed me parts of SF that I would never have seen otherwise (I believe I was in the Bayview district). Not only was the socio-economic divisions in different parts of the city obvious, but also the time scale in which each suburb was settled (as shown by the evolving architecture and vegetation — more modern plainer architecture in the outskirts vs more Victorian/early 20th century buildings towards the city centre; sparser, less green and younger trees in the newer, poorer sections).

While SF is more compact than LA or Chicago, it has definitely a softer edge than NYC (which can seem harsh and bleak). Granted that this is the first time I’m really exploring a large American city on my own at my leisure, what is amazing to me is how fast the street environment/atmosphere can change. You think you are walking down a nice street, but literally turn the corner and it is already a edgier area and you feel you need to be a bit more cautious. And yet because of the existence of this harsher underbelly of the city, I can’t help but feel that the more white/gentrified/yuppified parts of town are like bubblegum dreams.

Talk about how American pop culture has shaped my imagination and impressions of the US: While it is of course impossible for the majority of Americans to look and behave like Bradgelinas, I am always amazed at the different sizes, shapes, ethnicities, body types, facial features and movements of the people one encounters on the streets of big city America. Not only have I realised that the body beautiful types are actually not the norm, but everytime I walk down the streets here in big city America, I always feel that I am walking down the film set of Men in Black, where underneath the facade of these strange looking people, surely aliens live beneath. Which then makes me think that the Bradgelinas of America must be aliens in their own right too, only with more symetrical looking masks? Yes?

13 June 2010

The heat wave that started yesterday seems to be continuing. Up on the 3rd floor of 977 South Van Ness Ave (where Robert and Nancy have a rehearsal/informal performance space and their office) where I spent a few minutes stretching and exercising this morning, there are skylights that heat up the 3rd floor really fast. It was actually quite hot up there.

Robert and Nancy’s house is in the Mission district, a region that is relatively flat by SF standards. So walking about most parts of the Mission is quite easy (there is a slight gradient that slopes from the Mission to downtown — excellent if you wish to skateboard from the Mission to downtown, as Robert points out). Originally a Hispanic neighbourhood, it is now home to many other ethnic groups, but still retains much of its Latin American character. 977 South Van Ness Ave parallels Mission St (2 streets away) and is walking distance to 24th Street, the 2 streets that are full of Latin American shops and eateries. (Yet Valencia Street, also a shopping/eating area, that also parallels Mission St on the other side is by comparison so ‘white’.) The most amazing thing about the Mission district are the wall murals that adorn walls of houses and shops here and there. Street art is taken to another level — the vibrant colours and strong images often centre around serious socio-political themes. Whole back alleys are canvases for serious artists (not punks). Some of these murals are just jaw-droppingly gorgeous, in my humble opinion of someone who is not into the visual arts.

Robert and his daughter and her boyfriend left 3 nights ago in the middle of the night to drive to Orcas Island to join Nancy there. Before he left, I accompanied Robert for several days in a row on 9 am walks around the Mission. Since he has lived in the neighbourhood for several decades, he would point out to me interesting places that I would not have otherwise noticed. For instance, there is a slightly more industrial area around 16th Street (977 South Van Ness Ave being located between 20th and 21st streets) in which artists have transformed former factories into studios and performance spaces. Hmm… Only locals will know the nooks and crannies.

15 June 2010

Alas the heat of 12 & 13 June dissipated yesterday. Though the weather is still bright and sunny (i.e. no fog), the temperature has dropped and I’ve had to layer drastically to keep my fingers warm.

Before I go into a summary of what I’ve been doing, let’s talk about food on the way to and in SF. For six weeks prior to leaving Singapore, I had upped the amount of exercise and was very strict with my diet (very little carbo) in order to be serious about Phase 2 in my weight loss (Phase 1 being what I did last year). I believe I lost about 3 to 4 kg as a result. However, an unforseen result was how much my body is now burning calories than before: I got very HUNGRY and COLD during the flight from Singapore to SF, unlike before when I would feel just right with the amount that airlines would feed you on the plane. Since landing in SF, I’m glad to report that I’ve been relatively circumspect with my diet and limited the snacking. By comparison to the 6 weeks prior, I’m eating a lot more carbo — but I figure, hey, it’s ok, since it can get quite cold here. But I think my overall diet change is permanently sinking in: I just don’t want to eat as much junk as I used to eat, and my body wants the vege and fruits more than crisps/chocs/meat.

And to my Singaporean readers: Be envious. It is cherry and strawberry season here in SF. Both fruits can be bought very cheaply here right now – less than a US$ per punnet of strawberries, and less than a US$ per lb of cherries. Needless to say, I’ve been gorging on them (and thereby more than fulfilling my daily quotient of fruit intake and going to the loo a lot).

Ok, so now for a summary of highlights of my adventures in SF (as best as I can recall):

- Thu 3 June: I arrive in SF.

- Fri 4 June: I start exploring the Mission on my own. In the evening, Robert plays host to a networking meeting of Young Audiences, an agency that promotes artists to work in schools that Eth-Noh-Tec has been a member of for many years. A very eye-opening meeting for me to listen to both the artists and administrators talk about how arts for schools in this part of California are promoted.

- Sat 5 June: In the evening, Robert hosts the monthly salon that he organises to promote local artists. The evening is dedicated to Filipino-American artists. There is a poet, a playwright, a stand-up comic, a film-maker and a kulingtan player who is fusing the traditonal gong music with modern electronica. Enjoyable and again, eye-opening. As my contribution to the potluck for this event, I make my apple pie (5 pies in all): of course, they go down well; 2 are finished.

- Sun 6 June: I attend a matinee at The Marsh, a theatre devoted to small-scale, new work. The Marsh is currently conducting a Festival of New Voices. I see Board Policy 213 (a short piece about bureaucratic life by Wayne Harris) and 40 Pounds in 12 Weeks (Pidge Meade’s semi-autobiographic fight with weight loss).

- Mon 7 June: I venure out into downtown via the BART subway system. I walk to the 24th/Mission Sts station to access it. I get off at Powell and go to the San Francisco Visitor Centre and get a San Francisco city pass that allows me free Muni bus rides (and cable car rides) for 7 days as well as free access to certain sites within 9 days. Using this pass, I visit the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art (the collections on show were not very big or impressive) and I ride on the California St cable car line several times. Before taking the BART back to the Mission, I discover a discount shoe store along Market St. I fall for temptation. Heck luggage constraints. I buy 2 pairs. In the evening, I bring Robert out to dinner at the Chinese restaurant, Tao Yin, round the corner from 977 South Van Ness Ave, to thank him for his hospitality. Of course, Robert is on first name basis with the head waiter.

- Tue 8 June: I stay in most of the day. Robert has kindly arranged for me to share my work with invited guests that evening. So I help him prepare his studio for the event (plus also help him move things in preparation for his trip to the Orcas islands). And I also take time to prepare for my presentation of my art as well as on Singapore and its culture. About 10 people show up for my presentation, two of whom I will mention: Malcolm (my nephew who now works in San Francisco in biotech, whom I’ve not seen since he was 14) and Sheridan Tatsuno (a Japanese American, a long-time friend of Robert who is a businessman cum screenwriter). Some of the remaining apple pie is served as part of the refreshments. (Robert grilled some meat for the makan – he is very big on grilling. Outside of the 3rd floor studio on the deck, he has a grill, given to him by Nancy.)

- Wed 9 June: I venture into town again using the BART. I visit the Museum of African Diaspora (so-so, though I caught part of a very interesting documentary on Celia Cruz, the late singer). Next to the MOAD, I discover a shoe store selling dance shoes. Heck luggage constraints – I succomb and again buy 2 pairs of shoes (but this time I have real reason – it is absolutely impossible to find ballroom shoes my size in Singapore — something I will really need the day I am able to take up social dance classes again). So I walk about Chinatown and its outskirts the whole day carrying those shoes. I eventually end up at the famed City Lights bookstore. Then I return back to South Van Ness Ave. In the evening, I venture out to The Marsh again and see 2 more monologues: Jurrasic Ark by David Caggiano, and The Dream by Kenny Yun.

- Thu 10 June: To make use of my city pass, plus fulfill my niece Nicole’s request, I venture out to Pier 39 and Fisherman’s Wharf, via Muni bus and streetcar. At Pier 39, I board a boat for a 1-hour cruise in the San Francisco Bay, sailing past the sealions beached off Pier 39, downtown SF, the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz. That morning I had debated whether or not it was too warm or not to bring out my fleece jacket. It is a good thing I did, for it is freezing out in the middle of San Francisco Bay as the boat moves through the water and the wind is blowing. After the cruise, I visit Pier 39. I swear: it has not changed much since 1985 or 2002 (my first 2 flying visits to SF). From the small seafood market there, I buy 1 can of clam chowder for Nicole. I walk to Fisherman’s Wharf, arguably one of the most tackiest tourist traps in SF. Although I had eaten something light at Pier 39, I decide to buy chowder and boiled squid from one of the seafood stalls just for the experience. Then I buy a 2nd can of chowder from Boudin’s (fleeced through the nose for it at over US$6 after tax is included) for Nicole. Then I ride the cable car again on the Powell-Mason line. When I get off at Powell, I discover a grand-daddy of a discount shoe store along Powell St. It is UNFAIR! Why is it only in America that one can find such variety and quantity of shoes in Size 9.5… Sigh… I am good. I do not succomb to temptation. I know that the 2nd half of this trip to the US/Canada will be shopping fest when my sister and her 2 girls arrive on 16 June. When I arrived back at 977 South Van Ness, Robert and his daughter Xiani and her boyfriend Wes were still packing and preparing to leave for Orcas. It is uncertain whether they will leave that night or the next morning. Sometime during the early hours of the morning after I had gone to bed, they leave, driving the SUV.

- Fri 11 June: To make use of my city pass further, I go to Golden Gate Park (and get lost in the process — see above). At the Park, I see the California Academy of Sciences (not bad – much better than the Bay Acquarium at Pier 39) and the de Young Museum (really good), the Conservatory of Flowers (waste of money since I come from the tropics) and the Japanese Tea Garden (very pretty). In the evening, I meet up with Joan Holden at the 16th BART station and catch up with her over dinner at a Mexican place. She then brings me to see a monologue, Andy Warhol: Good for the Jews?, by Josh Kornbluth. Very nice interweaving of imagery.

- Sat 12 June: I meet my nephew, Malcolm, for lunch. I travel by MUNI from 16th St to the corner of Fillmore and Chestnut in the Marina district. Very pretty, yuppified area. The bars along Chestnut St are filled with people watching the US-England World Cup match — it seems very strange to see Americans excited over soccer. Malcolm and I catch up over lunch, have a walk along the waterfront and then stop briefly at Malcolm’s studio apartment. Then I return back to the Mission.

- Sun 13 June: After my work sharing on Tue 8 June, Robert receives an email from a visual artist, Ester Hernandez, show said that she was sorry that she had missed my work sharing, but would love to meet up with me if possible. Her interest in Singapore is because her son and family moved to Singapore last year and she had visited Singapore last December to see her granddaughter as well as to tour Singapore for the 1st time. So we arrange to meet up for lunch on Sun. She drives by 977 South Van Ness Ave  and brings me to another part of the Mission I had yet to discover. There at a Mexican seafood restaurant, we have lunch with her good friend and accountant, Grace, who hails from Indonesia/Malaysia. It is a very delightful lunch getting to know the 2 ladies. I try the seafood cocktail (that Robert had recommended I try if I were to eat Latin American seafood). At the end of the lunch, we take pictures and exchange presents.

After lunch, Ester drives about the Mission and gives me a personal mini-guided tour of the murals. We stop at a fancy ice cream place for ice cream. She drives me back at 977 South Van Ness Ave, where I drop off stuff she has given me, and pick up a copy of my book. Then she gives me a lift to the 24th St BART station where I take the train to Powell and meet up with Sheridan Tatsuno. I was fascinated by his views on life and screenwriting during my brief encounter with him on Tue 8 June and so wanted to meet up with him to get to know him better. So I had arranged to meet him again. Sheridan takes me on a walk that covers the Ferry Building plus parts of the North Beach area, encountering breathtaking views of the Bay and the city as well as engaging in wide-ranging conversation as we walk about.

- Mon 14 June: In the morning, I visit Creativity Explored on 16th St, a programme that helps people with disabilities discover and develop their talent in visual art, on the invitation of Ester Hernandez, who has been involved with the programme for many years. Ester introduces me to the various artists and her colleagues who guide/help the artists with their work. Some of the work is really stunning. At the lunch break, I leave and explore the Mission Delores just down the street from Creavity Explored. The Mission building is the earliest building still standing in San Francisco, built when Franciscan monks came to these parts to set up missions in the 1770s. Next to the Mission building is the Basilica that dates from after the 1906 earthquake (the original Basilica having been destroyed by the quake). It is very peaceful sitting in the Mission, the Basilica and the cemetry. After lunch, I eventually head back to 977 South Van Ness Ave, where I complete packing a small box of books (that I had been purchasing over the last week or so – but really compared to my previous times abroad, I have been very circumspect in the amount of books I have bought) plus the 2 soup cans (excellent fillers for the box). Then I go to the post office at 23rd St to send off the parcel.

- Tue 15 June: Basically, this is round-up/resting/packing day before I fly to LA tomorrow. Hence, I’ve spent the last 2 hours completing this blog.

Today is the day when my mother flies into LA. My brother who lives in LA will meet her at the airport and bring her to his home. My sister and her 2 girls arrive in LA on 16 June, the same day I fly to LA. On 18 June, all six of us will fly to Edmonton, Canada, to visit our relatives there as well as celebrate my aunt’s 90th birthday on the 20th. On 23rd June, we fly back to LA. On 29th June, my mother and I will leave for Singapore; my sister and her 2 girls leave 1 day later.

And yet, my travels for the summer of 2010 will not yet be over. I travel from Singapore to Rome on 4 July to take part in the LaMaMa Umbria playwriting residency from 5 to 15 July.  In mid-Aug, I will be in Darwin, Australia, for about 6 days taking part in a storytelling festival. Yes, I am a jetsetter this year…

History is replete with stories of try and try until you finally succeed. However, it has only been in recent years that social scientists have established roughly how much time 99% perspiration actually takes. In his book, Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell states that the estimated time a person needs to rehearse/practise/play around before you can master a certain skill (that you like or that you have a certain affinity for) is 10,000 hours. The many examples he gives ranges from sports stars (who train since childhood) to Bill Gates (who was was fascinated with computers in high school and who spent fanatical hours learning and practising computing as a teenager and a young adult, before he developed Microsoft with his equally computer-mad friends).

Granted that there are many possible contributing factors to success in life, besides the amount of time one puts in to master a skill base. Gladwell himself explores some of these other elements in Outliers.  But for me, the notion of 10,000 hours alone is quite, quite sobering.

Reflecting back on my own life, I can see how this 10,000 hours concept rings true in the amount of time I’ve had to invest to achieve some degree of facility/insight/ability to imbibe the key principles of my various interests. There were at times I felt compelled to do certain things, even though I did not understand why I was doing what I was doing. In hindsight, I can know see how even these experiences have dovetailed into what I am today: a writer, storyteller, theatre practitioner, voice teacher, coach.

But in order to get here… Man, what a lot of time/water/effort under the bridge… I am still developing, evolving – so where will I be after spending another 10,000 hours on whatever skill set I wish to focus on? Yet at the same time, I am aware that I am now middle-aged. So how much time do I really have left to master anything? How much time do I have left to develop other new interests and widen my perspective on life? How do I choose on what to focus on, within whatever time I have left on this earth? How will I know that I have made the right choices? Where will I get the time and energy to really start and complete writing my first novel, amidst all the other things that I have to do to function as a normal human being? Sigh…

While I’ve never intended to be a multiple posts per day blogger, alas… I’ve failed  my new year resolution to write at least a blog a month. If it is not one thing, it has been another that has kept me from sitting still to concentrate and write, e.g. from teaching/coaching commitments, to going to the gym, from storytelling, to being entrapped by Farmville on Facebook. It has been go, go, go for the last 6, 7 months. There has been not much time to breathe…

However, I shall make up for the dearth of blog entries of the last few months by probably blogging relatively furiously during June and July. I am currently not in Singapore to take a breather from this hectic city. Unlike the private mass emails that I sent to various people during my previous long breaks from Singapore (2000/2001, 2003/04, 2007), I will be making my exploits be known to one and all through this blog.

So where am I? I am now in San Francisco staying at the home/office of Robert Kikuchi-Yngojo and Nancy Wang of the storytelling group, Eth-Noh-Tec. I arrived yesterday (3 June) via a UA flight that was over an hour early. Robert came to pick me up from the airport (his wife Nancy is not in San Francisco at the moment – she has gone ahead to prepare for the yearly storytelling festival that she and Robert organise at Orcas Island off the coast of Washington State) and brought me back to 977 South Van Ness Ave, an old Victorian era house, that is full of interesting rooms/nooks and crannies. In respective order, I met Miranda the dog and Robert’s 20 year-old daughter, Xiani (pronounced Shawny).

Life here in 977 South Van Ness Ave is relaxed and comfortable. My room is small in floor area, but tall in terms of height. To make the  most of the space, the bed is one of those loft types in which you have to climb a tall ladder to access, thereby leaving the area under the bed as living space.I have never slept before in this kind of bed. So it is quite an adventure climbing up and down that ladder to access the bed and to get off it.

A most harrowing experience is driving in and out of Robert’s garage. Because the house was built before the age of motor cars, the drive into the garage is extremely tiny. On the return from the airport, Robert, with much skill and experience (and making sure the car’s mirrors are folded in), maneuvered the car through that driveway (with seemingly only 3 or 4 inches spare on both sides of the car) into the basement of the building in which 3 cars are squeezed together, one of them being a SUV. Later on in the evening, I accompanied Robert and Xiani on errands in that SUV. Sitting within the SUV as Robert backed out of the garage, it seemed that the spare room between wall of driveway and sides of SUV had shrunk to an inch.

Thus far, I have not seen or done much in San Francisco – just basically resting and taking it easy. Before he and Xiani leave to join Nancy at Orcas next week, Robert has kindly said he will be introducing me to various members of the storytelling/writing/artistic community that he is in touch with over the next few days. I will continue to stay at 977 South Van Ness Ave until I leave San Francisco on 16 June when I fly to Los Angeles where my family (my mum, sister, 2 nieces) will congregate around my brother’s place. On 18 June, all six of us will fly to Edmonton where we will celebrate the 90th birthday of my aunt. On the 23rd, we fly back to LA. On 29 June, my mother and I will fly back to Singapore. My sister and her two girls will leave one day later.

I will of course update you on my exploits above in due course. But talk about being busy… My last big trip abroad was my US stint in 2007 for the University of Iowa’s International Writing Program. For almost 3 years, I’ve stayed put, more or less, in Singapore. In contrast this summer, I will be a jetsetter.  I return to Singapore on the cusp of 30 June/1 July. I tell a story during Double Deals, MoonShadow Stories’ scheduled performance on 2 and 3 July. On 4 July, I fly to Italy where I will be taking part in the LaMaMa Playwriting Retreat somewhere outside of Rome until 15 July. In Aug, I take part in a storytelling festival in Darwin, called Under the Banyan Tree.

Wheeeeeeee…

Despite the festivity of the season, I will be like Scrooge and say, “Humbug!” to the Lunar New Year. Over the years, I have grown to dislike the Lunar New Year. It seems to me that in Singapore, the Lunar New Year is more a family-based occasion than Christmas (whereas one is freer to celebrate Christmas with friends). As a child, it was fun visiting relatives during Chinese New Year and eating oneself silly at each port of call. Sadly, both my maternal and paternal sides of my family have moved from Singapore or passed away over the years. Compulsory visits to older relatives and family friends have disappeared as now my mother is the oldest in her generation left living (who is still in good health) in Singapore.  While there must be some preparation to host the few that visit my mother and I, one wonders whether the pre-festival hoo-hah is worth it due to the actual numbers that do visit. And this year, my nieces left before the new year started for their studies in Perth and my sister and brother-in-law left last Thursday for Perth to spend the long weekend with their children — hence, making this year’s Lunar New Year even more low key than ever before.

Part of the pre-festival prep is usually baking with my sister — which did not happen this year, due to my sister’s travel plans and the fact that I was sick about 2 weeks ago (preventing me from scheduling baking time). As I have no oven at home, I need to bake at my sister’s place. My CNY specialty is cheese straws; whereas my sister is more adventurous (e.g. tarts, chocolate chip cookies, peanut cookies, cornflake cookies — depending on how much time she has to bake). Most of the stuff we bake are given away; some we keep. So in the years that we have baked, after including the cookies etc that are also given to us, it takes months for both households to finish all the goodies.

This year, even though we have not baked, we have been given a lot of stuff. While I have stopped counting the calories since Chinese New Year’s Eve (having brought my mother and my sister’s maid out for the mandatory Reunion Dinner at a buffet and pigging out the whole of of yesterday) and will only resume the weightwatching on Wednesday, I cannot imagine how I can help to consume all the food over the next few months if I am to stick to my exercise/diet regime and lose another 12 kg. Sigh… What sideways slingshots the universe sends to knock us off our course… But then, in Singapore, it is always hard to watch the weight from December until Chinese New Year is over…

Usually, my sister and her family come over to my place for lunch on the first day of the Chinese New Year. My mum gets into a tizzy making sure the lunch goes off well. (Over the years, the lunch has been simplified in many ways, such as my sister ordering caterred food. But my mother still get excitied over what little extras that she plans for beyond the caterred food.) This year, I told my mum to really keep things simple since my sister and her family weren’t going to be around. So she prepared Aunty Hu’s Shanghainese nian gou.

Ah… When the late Aunty Hu prepared her nian gou, it would be a delectable dish with somehow the rice sticks, shredded meat (originally pork, but later substituted with chicken breast for health reasons), preserved vegetables, winter bamboo shoots and stock all perfectly proportioned together. It’s fairly easy to prepare — hey, when I studied in London during 2003/04, I prepared it for my classmates, the ingredients being easily found in that city. You soak the dried rice sticks for 24 hours in cold, clear water. You shred the meat and marinade in light soya sauce and lightly fry in sesame oil before hand. You also shred the winter bamboo shoots and preserved vegetables (from cans). When you want to eat, bring the stock to a boil, throw in the rice sticks and cook until soft, then throw in the bamboo shoots, preserved vege and the meat. Bring to a light boil. Serve. But alas, not even my mother can replicate the nian gou in the way Aunty Hu made the dish…

(Side story about how Aunty Hu and nian gou: Born in Malaysia, Aunty Hu’s maiden surname was Tan. She was Hokkien in family stock, not Shanghainese. She married Uncle Hu, who was Shanghainese. Despite the fact that Shanghai was in turmoil during the late 40s and early 50s with the Communists coming to power, Aunty Hu found herself in that city during that period for as a dutiful wife, she had to accompany her husband wherever he went. So she lived with her Shanghainese in-laws for several years, and in the process, learnt how to prepare nian gou. How she got out of Shanghai with her children: that is another exciting story…)

Over the last decade or so, more mainland Chinese from the central and northern parts of China have settled in Singapore and they have brought with them their versions of nian gou (and oooh, my other favourite from those parts of China: jiao zi, or steamed/boiled minced pork dumplings) to Singapore. The fried version of nian gou is more commonly found in Singaporean restaurants and coffee shops now — but tends to be oily and very starchy. The soup version of nian gou can also be found, but not as widespread. Except for once, most nian gou soups that I have tried in local eateries are not as fancy or refined as Aunty Hu’s version; they are mostly prepared with just shredded fresh white cabbage and pork strips. That one stall that prepared the closest to Aunty Hu’s version has since disappeared after that one time that I chanced upon it. Sigh…

Leaving gastronomic issues aside, I will now discuss other things that are no less sensuous in nature. For instance, have you explored the shelves of your local supermarket or pharmacy lately? Have you noticed how many new product lines of shower creams and hair shampoos/conditioners there are that claim to contain natural ingredients/oils/fragrances/stuff that make your skin/hair more shiny/soft/smooth/luxiurant/smell nice? Lately in order to make my gym experience more exciting, I’ve been buying samples of these new products to try during my post-gym showers. Oh my, sometimes I think that these manufacturers don’t just want you to apply these cleansers on your skin/hair; instead, they want you to eat the stuff. Without naming names, I just love one of these new shower creams available because it seems like the ripple ice cream that I craved to eat as a child. Everytime I shower using this cream, I am so tempted to put just a little into my mouth… Yummm…

Thus far in life, I’ve led a very straightforward, task-focused existence. But lately, the universe seems to be telling me to lighten up and enjoy the good things in life. For instance in December last year, I had 2 very sensuous experiences back-to-back.

The first one: For the last few years at the end of each year, I’ve been buying Noah’s Ark merchandise from my friend (and distant relative), Beatrice Tay, to help the animal shelter (Beatrice, being a staunch supporter of Noah’s Ark). For end 2009, I ordered 2 t-shirts from Beatrice and had to meet her specially to collect the t-shirts and pay up. So Beatrice invited me to ‘a product launch’ . I said yes. For the arranged Friday evening, I turned up at the Arts House and found out that the product launch was one organised by Dior to promote their new anti-aging serum. Prior to this, I had never attended a fancy cosmetics product launch before. So it was a very eye-opening experience for me and I was giggling all the way. Customers were seated at tables which had all sorts of skincare products in the centre; they were guided through what to use and how to use in order to clean and prep the face. Man-o-man, no wonder these cosmetic companies are rolling all the way to the bank. So many little bottles of unguents just to clean the face, slow down the signs of aging, revitalise the cells, prevent wrinkles and UV damage, moisturise… You mean in order to put foundation, you first need foundation (i.e. primer) for the foundation? Oh man, all this just so that a woman can at best look maybe at best 5% fresher? No wonder all these promo ladies at cosmetic counters look as if they wear masks! The amount of layers of stuff that goes onto the face (even before you layer on the make-up) is incredible!

Part of the goodie bag presented at this launch was a voucher for a facial at the Dior branch at Tangs to be used within January. Beatrice was so insistent in reminding me to make an appointment for this facial so as not to waste it. I made the appointment and turned up for the facial. Whereas during the launch the facial was self-administered, this facial was done by a therapist. It was alright. I did not buy the anti-aging serum. Instead, I bought for the first time in my life a Dior lipstick and blusher. You see at the end of the product launch, customers could request for Dior staff to do make-up for them. (It seems some ladies cannot go out in public without make-up, and they had removed their own make-up in order to do the self-administered facial. Even though they were probably going to go home after the launch, they still needed to reapply make-up to face the journey home. Hmmm…) So Beatrice got the launch MC to do make-up on me. I liked the lipstick and blusher used then and decided I would get them myself. But when and where I will ever use these 2 things, I don’t know.

The very next day after the Dior launch, I attended a perfume workshop, courtesy of Laura Schuster. In October 2009, Shelly Quick and I organised a joint birthday party and our mutual friend Laura bought both of us tickets to this workshop conducted by the Jo Malone company at the National Museum in December. It was fascinating to smell the different scents created by Jo Malone, sprayed on individual strips of paper, and even more fascinating to see Laura, Shelly and the other people at the workshop going goo-goo-gah as they whiffed the different perfumes and learnt the ways to mix and match scents. Alas after a while, all these finer things in life just washed over the head of the peasant that I am…

In the last few months as I’ve gotten physically lighter, I’ve tried concommittently to lighten up in other parts of my life. But sometimes, it’s hard to break the mold and try things that I’ve never done before. Hmm… Am I getting too set in my ways? Is age seriously catching up? How to expand one’s horizons/evolve according to circumstance, and yet retain me? Hmm…

“For someone who really wants mindful eating to be their life mission, they can study it and eat mindfully,” he says. [My parenthesis: 'he' being Brian Wansink, author of Mindless Eating: Why We Eat More Than We Think.]

“But most of us are too busy for that.”

But most of us are too busy for that… Hmm…

I presume that it has always been a fundamental human condition to be busy, busy, busy such that our ancient forbears developed the notion of mindfulness, which is the complete opposite of business, i.e. to pay full attention to one thing at a time and to chill and take it easy as a result. By comparison, our ancestors did not have to deal with the likes of computers, handphones and personal digital assistants (not to mention a million other electronic devices). These machines were originally developed to save us time that we could use  for other more noble pursuits. Instead, greater productivity and real time connectivity have in fact increased our pace of life and provided more avenues of pressure and distraction. So we are compelled to focus on our work and projects and to produce results and be successful. Ultimately, what is the cost of all this constant activity/drive?

Case-in-point: I was so inspired by the first Magdalena Project festival of women in contemporary theatre that I attended in Wellington in 1999 that I felt something similar should happen in Singapore. Finally in 2003, I committed myself to producing an international women’s theatre festival for 2006. Because of my studies in London for 2003/04, concrete organisation did not begin until at the end of 2004. So it meant practically about 18-20 months of hard, hard extremely focused work of frantic emails, calls and meetings to get Crossroads 2006 (the name of the Singapore festival) up and running with the dedicated help of many other women. At the same time as a means of getting a personal income, I had to also promote myself as a voice teacher and a storyteller.

Needless to say, I was exhausted by the end of 2006. Even now, I am still affected by the experience: a lot of my present choices are based on the fact that I do not want to repeat the same mistake of taking on a mega project and biting off more than I can chew. Through Crossroads 2006, I of course gained knowledge, confidence, wisdom and something to put on my resume. Yet the singleminded devotion to making it happen made me neglect other parts of my life, such as my health (I had never been so stressed in my life and I gained weight and much more white hair), my art (how to have time or focus to create theatre or write during that period) and my relationships with other people.

If there is one ironical observation to be made, it is as follows: Humans are not omnipresent, omiscient and omnipotent, although we often fancy that we are. In order to realise something, we need to focus on that one thing for that moment. In the process by necessity, we cannot pay attention to other things and must so neglect and be oblivious about them. In other words, opportunity cost rules.

[A side observation about singularity of focus: Hui Tin, my friend since Primary One, has an only son named Tian Oon. At six years old, Tian Oon is extremely bright and precocious and very good with words and numbers. And like all six year olds, he puts his heart and soul into everything, such as demanding his own way to have more access to the WII machine (as I witnessed during the Boxing Day dinner at Hui Tin's place). When Hui Guan, his father, adamantly stood his ground and refused, Tian Oon protested vociferously, tears appearing at the corner of his eyes. In turn, father/mother/aunt/grandmother applied an often-used tactic to distract the boy: they gave him a mental sum to do (e.g. a 6-figure number multiplied by 2). And automatically, the tears stopped as his mental gears shifted into overdrive and the desire to play on the WII momentarily forgotten.]

So life for me since 2006 has been picking up the pieces of my life, being mindful of other aspects and finding some kind of balance. I’ve attended breathing and meditation classes. I took up yoga in 2005.  In 2007, I attended the International Writing Program at the University of Iowa to write. At the end of 2007, I joined a gym. I’ve invested in new clothes, joined new societies, bought new types of magazines (I’m now an O and Shape Singapore junkie), joined singles dating online sites, and tried other new experiences, etc…

An aspect of this recent phase of self-development that I would like to discuss is how I’ve grown to become more mindful about my own body through movement and food consumption. Since late 2005, I have been taking Iyengar yoga classes under Mrs Anjani Shah at the Ceylon Road Ganesha temple annexe. I have really benefitted from these sessions as Iyengar yoga is a very exacting form of yoga that makes you very conscious of how you move your body and place your weight in order to get the optimum result from each yoga pose (instead of rushing through a set of poses for the sake of finishing the set without knowing whether or not what you are doing is right or wrong, as has been my experience in a lot of other types of yoga classes that I’ve tried). Another great plus point about Iyengar yoga is that it accommodates the different abilities of each student and yet pushes him/her to achieve his/her maximum at any given point in time. [Thank you, Anjani, for your patient guidance over the years. I'm not quite a pretzel yet, but I can do a half-decent dog pose and headstand now. ] Consequently, my back and neck aches have eased and are more manageable and I have become more flexible .

At the end of 2007, after some persuasion by my friends (i.e. thanks to Sheela, Kamini and Ferlin), I joined a gym to tone up my muscles even more and to lose weight. I even invested in personal training. My first fitness trainer helped me achieve a basic level of fitness, but I did not succeed in losing much weight. In Feb 2009, this trainer left the gym and I had the good fortune of being assigned Mattew Chan as a replacement trainer. I found it much easier to connect with Mattew, who not only knows his stuff, but is also very motivational and encouraging. Mattew now works at a new gym called the Functional Training Institute since the beginning of Dec 2009; and I have followed along. Under Mattew’s guidance since end Feb 2009, I’ve lost 12 kg and become much fitter and toner.

The philosophy of body conditioning that Mattew and his colleages at FTI advocate is Functional Training, which as far as I understand aims to train the body to function optimally and easily in normal life and/or specific sports with minimal injury rates. It is comprised of a spectrum of weight bearing exercises that use new-fangled gym equipment (e.g. balls, bands, straps, balancing stuff, to name a few), apart from some standard gym weight equipment. Personal training under Mattew is fun because of the variety of activities he puts me through. And the various exercises has made me more mindful of what muscles I am using and how I am using them [after of course getting over the initial aches and pains of 'you-mean-I-have-such-a muscle-in-me?' -- Moment of enlightenment during one bathtime: I was soaping my legs and then felt this 'lump' in my thigh. I thought, "O my goodness, what growth is this?" And then I realised, the 'lump' was pure muscle, not the squidgy fat that I have grown accustomed to over the last few years.] In addition to Mattew’s training, I’ve logged in countless of hours of cardio exercise to help with the weight loss.

I am aware that some people are purists where it comes to physical exercise, i.e. you should stick to one form and not mix. What I have found is that the yoga and gym have complimented each other. From the yoga, I get flexibility and spinal stretching. From the gym training, I have gained greater muscular strength that has enabled me to do some of the yoga poses that I found difficult to do previously.

However the greatest joy thus far is having the strength and stamina to go back to free dancing. During my late teens and early 20s, part of how I lost weight then was to do my own free movement dancing to the hits of the 80s and early 90s. Over time, knee/back injuries curtailed my movements, I stopped dancing and jogging and the kilos piled on. But after all the tough physical conditioning of the last 9 months, as part of my own self-training now at FTI, I have been moving like a lunatic in one corner of the parquet area almost every Sunday since mid-Dec and having a blast with my first-ever MP3 player plugged to my ears, a wild aerobic contrast compared to the guided movements of other gym occupants. While I would never called myself a trained dancer, I have sorely missed this ability and opportunity to be able to express myself physically and freely according to the demands/moods of the music being played.

Part of the weight loss regimen has been logging down not only the amount and type of cardio exercise that I have done, but also noting down what type and quantity of food that I have consumed (and comparing this to the ideal meal plans that Mattew provided in Jun 2009). Arggghhhh… the need to be so meticulous in this area. What a pain! The three main difficulties in maintaining this food log are: a) how can I lead a ‘normal life’ vs. adapt my entire lifestyle according to the optimal meal plans; b) how to remember every single detail of what I eat or drink; c) how to describe certain non-typical dishes that I sometimes eat at my sister’s (I dine there usually three times a week) or when I eat out. Alas, I guess this is one area that I will always have to be mindful of for the rest of my life if I am going to succeed in continuing to lose more weight (till I achieve my ideal goal) and to maintain that ideal weight.

Which brings me back full circle to my starting point of Brian Wansink and the art of mindful eating. Yes, there is a lot of self-help literature out there, apart from Brian Wansink, that stress the need to be very conscious of both what and how you eat for weight loss/maintenance and/or other health reasons. The benefits are plentiful and obvious: you consume only what you really need and do not overeat or mindlessly shovel food into your mouth at a constant pace; you savour and enjoy each mouthful; you take time to chew and digest your food; you savour and enjoy the company of your dining companions; you take time to relax and chill out and not rush and/or eat-on-the-go, etc. But do we have the will power to go slow, not multi-task, and take one thing at a time?

Where eating is concerned, I have many bad habits to break, such as eating breakfast while reading the newspaper or watching television; snacking while watching night TV; preferring to eat and listen rather than converse when dining with others (it doesn’t help that I’m not much of a talker, and prefer listening to speaking). And where exercise is concerned, I am mindful that this is what my body wants to do right now in my life, i.e. go to gym, do yoga and free dance. But at the same time, all these workouts take up a lot of time (at least 2 or 3 hours a day, once you factor travelling time to and from the gym/yoga class). Yet, many other things (work, family, art, friends, reading, research and leisure) also demand my attention. By concentrating so much time over the last 9 months in losing weight, I have sidelined other activities and constantly face the pressure of an increasing mountain of things not yet done.

But most of us are too busy for that… Hmmm… Zen masters and modern proponents such as Eckhart Tolle advise that if you are surrounded by a million problems, things are really ok and can be dealt with if you just focus and live from moment to moment and not worry about everything past, present or future.

Alas, try as I might to follow such sage wisdom, I am no saint. Admittedly, I may be misinterpreting the various masters, but my monkey mind wanders and wonders: In being mindful of one thing, how can we also be mindful of other things in our life at the same time and achieve balance? How can we prioritise carefully what we choose to be mindful of, and not feel guilty that we have been mindful of the wrong thing? How can we resist the pressure that we need to do a million other things, and just be happy and content and accept that what we are mindful of at this very point in time is just ok, and that this is life as it should be?

On 29 Dec 2009, close to midnight, Mrs Catherine Hu passed away. Who was she, you may ask? Aunty Hu was my mother’s best friend of many years. Born one day earlier than my mother, both women became firm friends when they taught together at Fairfield MGS in the 1950s. Their friendship deepened over the years as they supported each other through career developments, marital hardships and child-rearing duties. For my brother, sister and I, it was mandatory to spend time at Aunty Hu’s strict House of Correction where we received vital coaching to help us through PSLE and crucial lessons on morals and manners. Apart from that period of instruction, we would frequent Aunty Hu’s home on other occasions. We always enjoyed our visits to Aunty Hu, for she was one of those rare surrogate mothers in one’s youth who made sure you always left her home well-fed with delicious homemade food. Ah… Chinese New Year will no longer be the same without Aunty Hu’s nian-gou soup…

Sadly, it already has been a long time since I have tasted Aunty Hu’s nian gou. In the last decade or so, Aunty Hu had been ill with heart and other problems and she suffered a stroke several years ago which rendered her bedridden. It was sad to visit her, sensing that her spirit was still strong, but so frustrated at not being able to move or speak as she used to. Hence, she became my inspiration for my short play, Imperfect Family Recipes. Not only did I feature Aunty Hu’s xiyaukai recipe (almost verbatim from Aunty Hu’s mouth as I recorded her words in 2002), the main character is patterned after Aunty Hu, an elderly stroke victim who used to be a good cook and now desperately struggles to communicate with her loved ones.

At the end of 2008, another stroke further immobilised Aunty Hu. And things slowly deteriorated from there…

Aunty Hu lived a good life, caring and nurturing all those around her. I am happy that she is no longer suffering and is now with the Lord whom she so loved. She will be sorely missed. Amen.