Reflections

Self portrait of a self portrait

Today's rain washed away any hopes of a golf game. I stayed at home, made my favourite spinach pie and took a couple of photos. What a day.

Oasis

Like the deserts miss the rain.

I miss the desert. Reading The Alchemist over the weekend only brought back vivid memories of the desert; Of wandering the desert by the light of a full moon, of esacaping the scorching sun in the shade of a tiny oasis, of washing up with fresh spring water, of the unforgiving winds, whose names are full of character. To see a world in a grain of sand.

Vista

The world, through my 1 and 2 halves.

Snapped en route to the hilltop village of Sirince in Turkey. The dolmus wound its way round a winding road that overlooked rows of olive trees and fruit orchards. What a sight. I like taking framed shots, they remind me that a perspective is always blinkered.

Thinkers

Rodin inspired; My Two Thinkers.

Are they thinking about when the next ferry will arrive? Or what to have for supper? Or about Turkish secularism? Or about the Heisenberg uncertainty principle? Or maybe about nothing? One thing's for sure, thoughts are being formed; even thoughts about nothing. "Certainly I think it is incumbent upon us to complicated and/or dismantle the reductive formulae and the abstract but potent kind of thought that leads the mind away from concrete human history and experiences into the realm of ideological fiction, metaphysical confrontation and collective passion" ~ Edward Said. So let us sally forth, taking pride in what is incumbent of us?

雨天

雨天又到会来了
最美的不是下雨天
是曾与你躲过雨的屋檐

Art

an Empty Easel, Evokes.

Nietzsche said that we have art so that we shall not be destroyed by the truth. I dare not test the limits of those words.

Reminisce

Remember, there's always light at the end.

They say that a child's formative years are between the age of 1-6. I don't know if it is a universal truth but I can say that it is true for me. Between the ages of 1-6 I shuttled between a semi detached house and a 1 room HDB flat before eventually moving to a foreign country. All this shuttling happened because my parents were too busy building a career. And so from a young age, I unwittingly realised that "Home" like "Nation" is a flexible categorisation rather than an absolute term. And of all my "homes" between the age of 1-6, my favourite home was my 1 room home. I remember running down the dark windowless corridor, through a metal gate and into a room bursting with warmth and light.

As I grew older, this "home" was gradually shelved further and further back, to a point where I was afraid I might lose it completely. And it is this insecurity that made me seek out these images. As I walked up and down the estate, there was a certain sense of excitement, almost akin to the feeling that I got wandering the back alleys of Cairo or Istanbul. That feeling was a strange feeling to have in my own country. And it made me realise how detached I've grown. This estate is sombeody's everyday but for me it was an excursion. What I saw was not shocking but foreign. Its like seeing the Eiffel tower in Paris even though you've seen images of it everywhere before. When I was younger, my 1 room flat was bright, airy and spacious. But now as I walked through the corridors, it seems as if the flats have shrunk. Living rooms and daily household routines have spilled out into the common areas. Having life spilling out into the common areas allowed me to peek through the windowless corridors and gated doors. I realised that there were whole families living in a space that is perhaps just slightly bigger than my bedroom. This dispelled the misconception I was labouring under, that 1 room flats had become the domain of either the aged, vagrants or drug addicts.

This walkabout did not last long and I left feeling disturbed and somewhat disgusted. I felt disgusted, driving off in a car that could easily pay for one of these flats, of my bag of camera and lenses that might be half the anual household income, of actually allowing myself to become so detached. And so I ask myself what am I going to do about this feeling. The long and short of it all is that i'll probably end up doing nothing. But what is this feeling that I'm speaking of? Is it a feeling that I should do something to help the less well off? Is it a feeling that I should not have allowed myself to become so detached from my society? Am I exhibiting a certain sense of haughtiness when I classify people living in 1 room flats as less well of and in need? But then clearly the old people that I saw could do with a softer golden years? No? I was told by a friend that maybe it is good enough that we just think about these things. But I wonder if that compounds my guilt, because I am aware of it and yet I do nothing. In such situations, it appears that mens rea is enough to find culpability and I am guilty as charged.

Images a la sauvette

Life goes on.

I snapped this photo in the same estate where I got my "national day" photo. It is an estate of one room HDB flats. There aren't that many of these left in Singapore. I was coming down the flight of stairs when I saw this old lady approaching down the corridor, leaning on a trolley for support. We made eye contact and I wanted to take a photo of her there and then but I couldn't articulate a reason for doing so. What was I doing there? How was I going to justify my presence and my intrusion? Why do I need to? Instead, I continued down the stairs but half way down I turned back to watch her slow passage across the corridor. I waited till I could wait no longer and just as she was about to step out out of the frame, I snapped this shot

I would like to think of this as my "decisive moment" shot and I have to admit that it was greatly influenced by Cartier Bresson's Behind the Gare St. Lazare. Although this photo is not as obscure or elusive as the Great's, it draws heavily from it in terms of framing. Like his "leaping figure" the old lady is not close to the centre of the image as how most photos would portray their subjects. I particularly like the graphic suggestion of this photo. The right to left flow suggests a future moment; that there is some form of continuation after the old lady has crossed the staircase landing. It is through this suggestion that a captured moment may be prolonged in our consciousness, allowing it to extend beyond its currency. And so as I view this image, I wonder what lies ahead for this old lady? A faint hint of a shadow suggests a past, a past that is as clear to us as the shadow itself. Once again, this raises more questions. And I find myself asking what is her past?

The old lady's glance, framed by the cold metal handrails implicates me, and I hope any other viewers, as a spectral witness to this moment; to her life. Life goes on; for her and for us. But in the same way as before?

National Day

All Red; Patriotism or a cynical coincidence?

Ever since this blog came into existence, I've always tried to snap a photo to commemorate National Day. In the first year of this blog, I chose a stereotyped and touristy icon of Singapore, because I was looking at Singapore from a distance yet with memories still fresh in my mind; just like a tourist. In the second year, the image was one of looking at home from the perspective of a newly returned. It was also at the start of the boom that we are enjoying today and I was bullish about the future. But thoughts about the future made me realise how easily we have discarded our past, how little of our architectural heritage we have retained, especially after trooping across grand European cities not so long ago. This year, I had an idea of what I wanted to say but I wasn't sure of how to go about doing it. Usually, I go photo hunting a couple of days before National Day but this year, I literally waited to the last minute before I went out in search of a photo. I guess I waited to the last minute because I needed that extra urgency to overcome the inertia and to find the courage to be intrusive.

And so we are experiencing an economic boom, with astronomical growth figures. My neighbours are snapping up Ferraris and Lambos and the property market is going up up up. As part of the countdown to National Day, the media has been reporting about strong economic figures and splashing pictures of happy Singaporeans, smiling and basking in the growth and prosperity of the nation. The ST has even kindly provided a guide as to how we should spend our new found wealth. I could have stuck to this theme of prosperity and easily snapped a photo of the festivities and the many happy campers that have lined the esplanade to watch the big parade. But the ST has already done that and tomorrow's papers will be plastered with photos of smiley contented faces. At this point, I think the question that we have to ask ourselves is whether this is an accurate reflection of our society as a whole. And this should be followed very closely by the question of whether enough attention is being paid to those who have not benefited from this growth and who are left behind. I believe that it is through this questioning that we are able to determine how discerning a society we actually are.

I think this photo brings a sober note to the pipe-piper tune that has been played repeatedly over the past few days. The old man pushing the trolley piled with old cardboard boxes had just stopped to check the dustbin situated below the flag. It was a disheartening sight, seeing an old man rummaging through a dustbin for bits of scrap to sell. I stared for far too long and missed that shot. As he walked away down the empty corridor, it felt like he had turned his back on both the dustbin and the flag. But the irony of it all is that perhaps we have turned our backs on him. We, collectively represented by the flag. This visual suggestion is amplified by the emptiness of the corridor which is highlighted by its length and the shuttered shop fronts. It is after all a public holiday, a day of rest. And so I wonder if the Uncle's red t-shirt is a symbol of patriotism or merely just a cynical coincidence.
Happy Birthday Singapore.

CatWatching

Black cat, meet Silhouette

Collected another roll of T-Max today. The hefty developing cost is really taking its toll but for now, its still worth it. Sometimes, I wonder if I would be better off trading in my digi-SLR system for a nice leica rangefinder. Its one of those aimless wonderings where you begin with the answer already at the back of your mind. Neverthless its still worth the wonderment.

f2.8

Wide open; Try to keep it in focus.

Its hard to stay constantly sharp and even harder to stay on top of everything. So, somedays are good and somedays are crap; but the in-betweens are hard to call. Collectively its called Life but individually?

Perpetual

The past is always carried into the present by small things;
So a flower is bent with the weight of its permanence.

WhiteLight

I embraced the dawn, before it snuck up on me.

I tried falling asleep after crawling home early this morning. I showered, laid on my bed, not drunk, not sober and waited for sleep to come. I suppose I should stop my mind from wondering. Cogito ergo sum eh. I think, I think too much. There I go again.

Liew Lian

Good stuff, cannot bluff.

Finally satisfied my durian cravings. There's nothing more shiok then eating durians at a road side stall with a bunch of friends. Power.