Broken Casio

I woke up instantly when my alarm rang the other day. It wasn’t a typical post drunken morning. I woke up wide awake. Almost as though I had never slept, as though I’ve slept through a blink.

During the whole day, I was in a daze. I was trying to piece together the conversations the night before. Can’t remember anything. d wish I did. This 23rd made up for the 18th n 21st I’d spent alone. Can’t be any happier.

Like how having bad luck before a shoot makes the shoot runs smoothly, good and bad balance out. Yin and yang. After all that goodness, somethings are broken. I’ve got to pluck up courage to mend them in my life.

Speaking of broken, my favourite watch had stopped and if anyone knows where I can go to to fix in new battery, I’ll appreciate it. Please let me know specifics cos I’m quite rather dumb..

victoria st

I particularly enjoy taking a walk down Victoria St in Richmond. Today I was there on a hunt for pig’s skin (production shoot..gross…).
It wasn’t the most joyous of activities so I welcomed any distraction. I love the smell of victoria street. It smells like home. It smells like Toa Payoh where my mum’s provision shop is. The weather was kind, I could smell the sweat of the old hunched vietnamese grannys amongst the sour foul odour of meat from the butcheries. And then there was the dry provision stock smell.

I followed that familiar scent into a shop. And immediately, I was transported back into ’96.
They had dried packet food packed to the ceiling and handwritten price tags. The boss speaks only viet and canto and little english.
I can do english, manadarin and almost no canto. With some caricaturing and pointing, smiling, thumbs up, nodding excessively, I managed to convinced him to let me take a photo of him.

Melbourne is a funny place. Everyday I find something not so new about this place, makes me question ‘where am i?’
I remember watching Sophie’s first film last year and telling her that her grandma has the same plates as my grandma.
And then there was that day when I walked into a Chinese takeaway and they were playing xiaobazhi and shixiaolong!!!
It was the same old Cantonese movie, dubbed over in crappy Chinese with even crappier English subtitles! Just like the way it was!
Then when ariel and I went opshopping for crockeries for her shoot, I found my favourite dinner bowl! The teddy bear one!
Madness. Melbourne comprises of snippets of my childhood but involving people of different races and speaking languages.
It feels slightly nightmarish but not quite. Like the memories are warped but not quite.. Very strange and very moving at the same time.

So here I am, 2011, in a vietnamese provision shop which reminds me of my mum’s before the upgrading authorities made her renovate.

We used to play hide and seek between the shelves. If you’re wearing a red t-shirt, you can easily camouflage with the dried spices.
Don’t you think the edges of the packets look like sleeves?
I used to be really slow at finding the boys.

Then my sister told me that I could use to mirrors to see where everyone’s hiding. Because they’re meant for spotting thieves and thieves hide too.

decorations from 14083204983209428 new years ago..

I guess when I talk about home, I don’t mean Singapore.. I don’t mean the country or the place.
It’s the lazy sunday mornings I’m talking about. Lazing in bed till the afternoon, stretching my legs over to my sister’s side of the bed.
My father making ham and eggs. My sisters chatting about big girls stuff. And every part of the house being very noisy.
I love the smells and the noises of the chaos, of being part of a big family.
And knowing comfortably that while all these madness is going on, I’m safe to drift in and out of sleep, in between consciousness.

22 birthdays had came and go. Somehow the world had changed and I grew up.
And I’m in a new world of chaos too quick for me to grasp. please slow down!!!

o.0

Ying & Summer

Fun Fact #1 -
While Gladys sometimes prefer to go by her alter ego Donna, Gladys’ sister Grace, calls herself Summer.

Fun Fact #2 -
Ying, in a different chinese character but of the same pronunciation, is my niece’s name.

Michael & Victoria

Fun Fact #3 -
What inspired you to make a film about a couple not able to conceive, you ask?
Perhaps looking at many many ultra scan pictures of my niece has something to do with it.

Fun Fact #4 -
Prior to making M&V that year, Gladys’d made a tiny 2-minute project which involves birth giving of some sort.

Love is a Chair

Fun Fact #5 -
A little girl wishes she was the chair her sister sits on so that she can be her support when she’s upset.

AWWWWWWWW MUSH OVERLOAD HAHAHA

the guitar string broke…

This I was preparing to learn on the guitar. Then the stupid string snapped.

i guess… time to be independent.
When I used to play classically, there was always a score given.
Just follow it, just practice and just work hard. Nothing will go wrong.
And Eus used to do all these guitar related maintenance for me..
But I guess growing up meant scores were taken away and we’re all left to solve our own shit.
Now I’m left with a broken string…

the pressure and expectations I’ve garnered for the y&s film is getting to me.
i have enough positive and rainbows and sunshine for all the other filmmakers walking down the hall of vca, but none for myself.
the pessimist killed the positive. boohoo. listen to erik satie and cryzxzxz, slit wrist and dieeee. hahaha!

and it goes well with Muji  :D

17:49

And so I was deciding between the yellow watch and the green watch at a roadside stall.
Standing under the hot sun, trying to make a decision – which one shall I get?
Typical indecisive libra…
It was until when I started sweating so much and I was holding the queue behind me that the watch aunty suggested that if I did get both, I’d get the second one at half the price.
And so I got them both, the yellow and the green watch.

If  only decision making was that easy. Just have both.
I guess I want the best of both worlds, but that’s way too much to ask for.
If only I can bring family and friends from Singapore to Melbourne,… and the food too.

The aunty then adjusted the time on the watches.
It reminded me of Tsai Ming Liang’s film, What Time Is It Over There?
Back when Effie just moved to Canada, I used to always ask her that when we meet online.
Of course, the watch aunty didn’t ask me that. She asked if I prefer 12-hour clocks or 24?

I told her that I like my digital watches on 24-hour clocks. Then I don’t get confused between days and nights.
It dawned on me when she handed me my new watches,
17:59 in Singapore is 7.59pm in Melbourne.
For that moment, all my dilemma went away. Everything was perfect. Two worlds in one.
16:00 is 6pm and 18:00 is 8 o’clock.

When I arrived here a week ago, I couldn’t be bother changing the time on my watch.
I’m not sure where to call home anyway.
But, then and there, it all made sense.

Time, our dear friend, decided I need a reality check.
It wasn’t long till the demon in my mind started whispering “What happens at 20:00? What happens when daylight saving ends?”
I was lost again.

I wish it’ll always be 17:49…

It’s just too say to say goodbye… to those in Singapore and in Melbourne.

Thank you for flying with us. Have a great trip home.

And so, this is it. Home. This is where I belong, neither here nor there. Not in Melbourne. Not in Singapore.

Here, my two worlds collide. Goodbyes and hellos. Have a safe trip back. Can’t wait for you to arrive.

I guess we all belong in that yearning to reach the horizon. Don’t we always look out to the farthest of sea and sky and wish we could travel there? But when we do get there, we realise it isn’t the beautiful ideal we had in mind. Then we find a new horizon. I am searching now, more desperately than ever for a place to belong.

8 days before the shoot

They’ve raised the blue flag or whatever that flag is. There is no wind. They’re paused the race.

You heave-to in the middle of no where. You’re on a pico, in the company of a crew, a partner, a friend, a really close friend. You close your eyes. The sea is calm. The swaying boom makes little squeaky sounds. You like it. The currents aren’t strong but the boat is bobbing a bit. It feels like being in a sarong. Feels like being a baby again.

You close your eyes,. The sun is blazing. You love that warmth on your cheeks. At the back of the head, you hear your sister’s voice nagging at you. UV rays destroy your skin. Fuck that.

You tilt your head back leaning on your oversize life jacket. The sea rocks you to sleep. You hear chatters of the other IJ sailors. You feel safe with them around. They’re laughing now. They must be capsizing their boats on purpose to have a swim in the sea. Someone’s peeing. They laugh somemore.

Since this is all imaginary, let’s add a beer your hand. You’ve got a beer in your hand. You gulp it, then lie back down. You dip your toes in the water. It’s nice and cool. You wish the race never started. You wish the race ended sooner.

The wind picks up. You enjoy the last of the sun’s warmth. You wish silently that the storm wouldn’t come. But you’ve had far too many experiences – that’s the way it is. Calm before the storm. It starts to drizzle.

The storm’s here.

Dear Denise

The films everyone’s making this year seem to all be inspired by their personal stories. Mine too. Ying and summer is pretty much a summary about my experience here in Melbourne and of the strangers I’ve met. But most importantly, it’s about friendship. I made a film 3 years ago about friendship to get into Vca. Wrote another one while here and once again this year. I guess it’s because other than familial relationships, I’ve never maintained another relationship for quite as long as Ive had with Denise. It’s 10 years and counting. I’ve screwed my love relationships over and other whatever weird ships, friendship was a constant.

I’m really grateful for the things Denise had done for me – bringing medicine to my bed when I’m sick. Always being there when I’m stressed with school… And I’ll never forget how hard I laughed during our Sydney trip. It made me never want to grow up. Who wants to grow up when u can laugh till your tummy hurts and have the most unglamours photos taken while at it. We wanna be 17 forever! And I don’t think I’ll ever stop getting pissed off whenever Denise gets drunk. The anger roots from fear I guess. The fear of losing the crazy girl who dashes onto the road, hugging strangers and doing all sorts of mad shit. I can never have someone leave me. I can never watch someone walk out those metal gates of our little Bishan apartment while I beg on my knees and cry. Not again. I can never have that. And I won’t have it.

If I’m given a choice, I’ll die before everyone else so that I don’t have to deal with the grieve. Selfish bitch! The world don’t revolve around you gladys! Haha

So this film is made for Denise who, too, romantises about city life and who shares my sentiments on loneliness.

Meine Mutter

I was listening to this song on the tram the other way and don’t know why I was reminded of my mom.
Not that my mom likes Teresa Teng, she never showed any interest in music or the arts. It was a big no no at home.

It’s funny how when I thought of her that day, it dawned on me that we never shared any moment alone.
The one and only memory I have spending with her was last year when I was back in Singapore during summer.
My father was late to meet us and so we were walking around Prime supermarket doing price checks.
And it took her courage to tell me that it’s ok if I quit school if it’s too stressful for me.
And I told her I won’t and silently swore that I’ll do well.
That was the closest we’ve ever been.

I phoned home on mother’s day few weeks back. And we talked about politics.
I asked her who she voted for and she refused to tell me because she was afraid I would tell my dad.
In the end, she barged and told me that she voted for both parties despite knowing that her vote would be voided.
Her reason was, “I want to be fair”.
Being fair was her mantra while bringing the 4 of us up, as a result she came across distant.

She taught me stuff which I never knew I had learnt.
Every time I get angry with someone, there’s a voice in me that tells me, “They might have their reason for being an asshole, but they’re not saying it.”
It was always in me never to hate and habour negative feelings towards anyone.
I remember so clearly when I was a child, one sunday dinner argument between her and dad was about a repeated theft that went on at her shop.
It was the second or third time she had caught the offender but had let him off.
My dad thought she was naive to believe they were innocent and let them off. At that time, I thought so too.
But now that I’m older, I see her point of view. How you weight losing two dollars worth of chocolates against putting a criminal record on a young teenager’s future?
She saw it as charity and indeed beneath that naivety was a beautiful charitable heart.
She used to pissed my father off for donating too much money to NKF.

Till now my mother would still ask me what course I’m studying in Australia.
She would ask me what exams was coming up so that she could pray to Guan Yin Ma and our ancestors.
She doesn’t understand what pitch night would mean but she would pray nonetheless and religiously every morning.
I guess what I’m trying to say is I wish for once in my life, I could make her prayers come true.

This year, the real reason for making a film in mandarin isn’t about having a ticket that would guarantee a job back in asia.
I really just want to make a film that my family can sit together and watch and all will understand every line of dialogue.
Hopefully at the end of the year, she’ll be proud and she can happily, for once, and thank the gods for making me a successful person.
Then, My rebelliousness wouldn’t be futile.

A Beautiful Tram Ride

Ipod was on shuffle that day when I was riding a late night tram home, drunk after a long day at school.
Technology seems to have entered a new realm of soulful sensibilities these days, ipod was playing a song I never knew I had, and best of all, it was playing a song that suited the mood.

A couple sitting right in front away from me held hands. I took this picture and collected my thoughts in my notebook.

The city life never fails to fascinate me. While I stack my bags on my lap, building a wall, separating myself from the crowd of loneliness, love is blossoming in front of me. She smiled at me after I smiled at them. Funny how we might meet again, taking the same tram home, but never recognising each other again. Or perhaps, I’ve seen her before and she’s seen me too, both as faceless lonesome souls, hoping the tram would take us to a destination, somewhere.

I’m not sure what I’m talking about or if anything makes any sense, but I felt wonderful that day. It was beautiful, between her and him, her and me, the city and us. The city never sleeps and the tram will keep running. It takes you from one end to another and back to the start again. It’s as though, us city folks are always running in a spiral. Running, running, running. But that day, for a while, I felt like I’ve reached a destination, not because I was in love, but because for a second, we were no longer monotonous faces in the crowd. For a moment, we connected.

On top of that, I was drunk, so can you imagine the magnitude of emotions I felt? It was MAGICAL!