Monday, August 29, 2005
And we had quite a nice surprise when there were fireworks at the finale =D I found my yukata so appropriate! Though we suspect that's where all the money for catering better food for us went =P
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Thursday, August 25, 2005
And it doesn't help that about 5 minutes later after I've gone through the whole myriad of emotions from shock to pity, the next question that pops into my head is: Am I supposed to be interviewing people or something?
What kind of monster have I become? >_<
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Saturday, August 20, 2005
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Tuesday, August 16, 2005
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Saturday, August 13, 2005
My favourite play by far was "Counting The Ways", a typically Albee script. It was a rather difficult play to pull off, but I gather from the cast that the audience yesterday were more receptive to it than Friday's crowd. I guess absurdist theatre takes a bit of getting used to - but isn't Love absurd anyway? I thought it was admirably apt.
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Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Was reminded very much of 'Edward Scissorhands', particularly by the opening sequence and the part where Willy Wonka poses in front of the factory with a pair of huge ribbon-cutting scissors in his hand. And of course the bright cartoon colours and plastic extreme characters were rather reminiscent of the surreal quality typical of Burton's work.
Had dinner and went to see the NDP fireworks - along with what seemed like half of Singapore. (Damn a lot of people... grr.) But after the initial interest and fascination with the light, the fireworks became just a bunch of sparks contributing to the global warming and air pollution. I guess it's true that fireworks are just pointless unless you've got someone special to watch them with. Bleh.
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Friday, August 05, 2005
Had a lit lecture on the novel "Written On The Body" this week, and the very first line of the book was "Why is the measure of love loss?".
Neil (our lecturer) pointed out that all the so-called "great love stories" of the human civilisation are more often than not, tragedies (See for example "Romeo & Juliet", Cleopatra & Anthony, "Liang Shan Bo Yu Zhu Ying Tai", etc.) Why should the "greatness" of a love be measured by the degree of loss experienced when the love has gone?
Somewhere out there, there's probably a very aged couple who have been together for a long time, shouldering the decades sweetly and peacefully through thick, thin, death-do-us-apart and all that. There might not be any drama in that story, nor any villainous plots to thwart them - but why isn't their story truly the "great" love story?
For those who have not heard me say this, I will say it again: I believe there can be no true happiness without true sadness - the contrast is what gives each emotion its definition. But sometimes things like this book just leap out and accost me and hit me over the head repeatedly, screaming "WHY?!" at the smug mien of my logic.
Isn't it somehow disturbing that we attempt to put Love on an exalted pedestal of idealistic impervious ecstasy, when in reality it is such a convoluted mixture of sorrow and joy? Why must one drink of the bitter waters before realising the intoxication of the sweet? Why is it that human beings never seem to appreciate what they have until it is lost to them forever?
This might seem like a completely random post, but it's not; It's arguably pointless, but not random =P
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Wednesday, August 03, 2005
"Battleship Potemkin" next week. I vaguely remember that I didn't like whatever I watched of it. *sigh*
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