Aleatória

noreply@blogger.com (:D) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 10:50:00 +0000

Observations

The city that I work in has very interesting spatial priorities - it goes something like this:
Cars Rule.
Because cars rule, the roads are made for them.
People, stay on the side or you get run over....and that include all you cyclists out there.
Shops are clustered at malls (I digress but we shall talk about the concept of fashion in malls another time).
Popeyes (a fast food chain that specializes in fried chicken) are springing up everywhere.

Given this spatial priority, it's impossible to fathom how people in this city navigate from one space to the next without the assistance of transport. Public transit is absolutely horrendous here so needless to say you have to own a car otherwise you might as well be homebound for a very good portion of the time.
And.....if you don't have a car and you decide to walk or bike, well good luck to you because to the drivers on the road, you are just another orange pylon...maybe a moving one but still another obstacle to overcome while driving.

It's therefore not too hard to imagine how pedestrians are being treated in this city. I walk fairly slow because I walk in 4 inch heels on a regular basis. So I have been honked before by vehicles while crossing a legitimate stop...not jay walking. I have seen cars interrogating the pedestrian with speed.

And don't even get me started on how seniors navigate this space. Ridiculous. That story to come later.

What a ridiculous post to start the day...

noreply@blogger.com (:D) — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 00:54:00 +0000

Your attitude, not your aptitude, will determine your altitude - Zig Zagler

When I was promoted to my current position, I was congratulated with this quote by one of the managers at my workplace. I saved it in my memory up until this day and I am sure this will be forever ingrained in my career as a key guiding principle.

As of late, however, I find myself losing that positive attitude that I have always been so proud of. A part of that is attributed to personal reasons...but a large part of this is also caused by my inability to find a direction to move on in my career.

I don't know if this happens to everyone at least once in their lives or am I just this crazy person out here trying to think too much, but for the entire year I have been anxiously waiting to move forward to something else...I asked myself what it was and I asked God what it was. But of course I get no answer becos....well let's be honest unless you are superbly spiritual or taken magic mushrooms, I don't think I get to hear any voices responding to my questions. I'm not that crazy yet I suppose.

I digress.

I imagine myself standing right in the middle of a 4 way stop. You know, with rolling hay, deserted grounds, and blue skies. I've been standing there. Observing one direction, another direction and yet another direction. I'm not even sure if I should pick any of the above becos I know that, out here, there might be another road or anotehr path that has not been walked on...or very few people have walked on it.

I'm not sure. I'm still not sure. But one thing's for certain - is that I am ready to move on. And that is another reason why I am writing this.

My motivation to move on is driven by my attitude. My positive attitude is back. I don't think it would be long before I put my gears back into action...and then I'll be charged with enough energy to take that long path..that unforeseen path before I make another pit stop and ponder again on my next move.

Life is still beautiful. At least I am seeing the cup as half full.

noreply@blogger.com (:D) — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 04:00:00 +0000

Cildo Miralles and my Doc Martens

I went into my closet and found my red Doc Martens today. The pair still carried remnants of the dust I collected in a Cildo Mireles installation at Tate Modern, London. I am never the sentimental type but have to admit that over the years, objects that moved along in time with me certainly reminded me of things that I have done, and events that I have attended.

The Cildo Mireles installation was one of the more interesting shows that I've attended in my years of experiencing art in space, and in real time. The picture above demonstrates a part of the room, or the installation that one would experience if one decides to go in. This installation, though simple to replicate, is not for the faint of heart.

I was drawn to the exhibition first by the quality of the other installations by Mireles. This one, hailed as the finale of all installations, was surrounded by staff ushering people into the room. The room itself allowed only 10 or less individuals in at one time; there was no time limit as to whether or not you are allowed to experience the piece; nor were visitors allowed to know how long, and how big the installation was. The only information given to anyone interested in entering was the following:

a. you have to ensure that you are not claustrophobic;
b. you must not have any respiratory disorders or heart disease;
c. you are required to take off your shoes and your socks and you must oblige, otherwise you will not be allowed in the installation.

And one would think, with all the instructions, that would deter visitors from going into the space. On the contrary, this became one of the most anticipated pieces in the show.

I lined up for it, and sure enough, the experience itself was well worth it. You were ushered into a room where you were asked to take off your shoes. You are then asked to bring yourself into a room by opening a door. The second you open your room, you are immediately taken aback as the room is not lit up. But you tread on because you are supposed to do so. And then you take your first step into the space...

no ground. where did the ground go? You sink your legs deeper into the...powder? And then I hit a hard surface. I was able to balance myself through the room...I walked slowly and was further greeted with a fume or powdery substance. Pitch darkeness. More powdery substance to plow through....and then I heard neighbouring sounds of strangers..communicating with each other.

"Where are we supposed to go?" What are we supposed to do?"

We all walked slowly, until we saw the light as we made an abrupt left turn. We found our way to the light only to find out that this was a candle. And nothing else. Disappointment. But then, someone else disclosed to me very important information:

The door was adjacent, but not directly lit by the light. We headed out...slowly taking in the experience of this installation.

And then I looked at my red Doc Martens again. Today would be the second time I wore them. I wonder if i would be asked to take them off again...a significant pain in the ass the first time when I wore them the first time. Never thought I would've been asked to take them off when I visited the art gallery...but would I be asked to take them off today again at the gourmet wine and food show? Hmm....I think I can take my chances. I'll wear my Doc Martens and see what kind of additional memory I will add on to the dust from my trip to Mireles' Room No. 4.

noreply@blogger.com (:D) — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 20:43:00 +0000

I was once a child that lived in a very strict household - the environment has to be immaculately clean, the children must be decent and proper. To the outsiders, our household appeared to be the perfect family. But for a child who did not thrive very well in orderly and regimented environments, I suffered tremendously.

I've always thought that God had a great sense of humour, and that is especially true when I noticed that he placed me in a family where it was ruled by a motherly figure who was overpowering, controlling in every which way and extremely concerned about the "order" of things. I would be fine if I were the submissive type; but as luck would have it, I did not respond very well to order and especially not to cleanliness. I was creative and I enjoyed chaos, which did not help very much when I tried to rebel against the family concentration camp.

There was a regimented order as prescribed by my mother -Monday to Friday - study, homework, piano lessons and if I do not complete any of these tasks to her satisfaction, I would have to stay up late until I get them done. That's right - I never had the opportunity to sleep enough as a child because tasks had to be done. On Saturdays, we get a bit of a break because she would be out and about going to the salon; but a break for us still meant work - I had to go to church, followed by piano.

On Sundays, we would continue the same rule only in a more concentrated manner. Study, work, work some more on homework and prepare for the coming week. I was never taught to relax and that got to the better of me by the time I reached adulthood. And the thought of Sundays, or a recognized holiday for "relaxation" for me never worked out very well.

It's like an addiction that's hard to get rid of. An addiction of sorts that's fuelled more by habit than by desire. I sometimes feel guilty when I don't work and that propelled me to do more work. Which, according to some people, is a very bad habit.

Taking all that into consideration, I turned to my inner self for advice. I found that I had no sense of understanding of what happiness is. Of course, reading about it in philosophy books helped a certain extent. But it was never clear to me how it mattered in my life. I thought that work was happiness, as what my mother had taught me ever since I was a child. But my inner self told me something otherwise - that I was and never have been happy with myself. Something was wrong. Something needed to change.

And so, early 2009 - I've made a promise to myself that I need to start learning how to be happy. Because I have never been happy in my life. I realized that I did little for myself in my life. What I did, mostly, was for the happiness of others. My method of happiness, was of course, something I learnt so well from mother. But because I had no other role model in my life that I looked up to (I never identified myself with anyone except for fictitious characters that lived on ideals). As a result, I had to re-define my own happiness through a thought process.

The thought process was painful, and it took months. But in realizing that my focus needed to be on myself, I asked myself what I needed and what I wanted in life. I definitely did not want to be stuck in work but I do want to make a difference to the world with my capabilities. I do not want to be monotonous in life but I needed a different life purpose. In the interim, I made a series of drastic changes:
a. I stopped considering work as priority
b. I started looking at myself in the mirror and I told myself that work does not define me.
c. I travelled, mostly by myself
d. I began partying
e. I trained for a 10 mile run, am training for a marathon and triathlon
f. I'm moving out of Canada because I realized that Toronto is too boring for me and I need to get out of here ASAP

These actions changed my life drastically, although at times I am still eclipsed by the sense of sadness that often trailed me everywhere I went. But in looking back, 2009 has been good to me. I learnt about myself and I am doing something for myself, which I was never provided the opportunity to do so as I grew up.

I am now 29 going 30. Nothing can stop me anymore. I will continue to move on life - refusing to confine without reason. Not anymore.

noreply@blogger.com (:D) — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 05:00:00 +0000

12 am. This marks the revival of this blog.

I used to write about how "sustainable" I try to be and on rare occasions, I criticize the status quo. It's gotten to a point where I felt that it's more of a burden than a release; hence, the disappearance of this blog as upkeep and maintenance was overbearing.

So let me mark the purpose of this blog clear, once again - it's my brain dump area. I'll write about anything and everything...and if it falls under the category of sustainable living, well f*ck me I've achieved the objective of my blog. But in instances where none of that happens and I'm simply offering my 5 cents worth of opinion, then so be it.