Just in time for New Year's Eve, The New York Times has a wonderful little article on Champagne. Makes my mouth bubbly just thinking about it!
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Champagne 101
Just in time for New Year's Eve, The New York Times has a wonderful little article on Champagne. Makes my mouth bubbly just thinking about it!
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Into 2009: Resurrection
This year, I learnt:
- That life is learning how to fly a kite. That holding on to what's important might mean having to let go before something snaps. That letting go is necessary to catch the wind and glide with God, that it is all about the tension in the tugs, between grip and release, pull and relax, that keeps us afloat, helps us to soar in the skies.
- That life is learning how to ride a bike- For all its scrapes and bruises, it's ultimately worth it. ( A forest-gump moment is always worth it.)
- That depression is an illness, and treatable. That things may get so hard that giving up seems easier. That recovering means overcoming our fears all the time. But that as we hold on in faith, in trust, to the kitestring in the storm, God does His part, too, and changes the wind. That God understands, sees us through, and most importantly, delivers His promises.
- That even when you lose hope, God never does. That Rainbows really are made by Him.
- That God has His timing. And I understand now why A Taste of Rainbow, a story of hope and healing, couldn't get published then. I still pray it does someday, in His good time.
- That at some point, everybody must decide once and for all if God is real. That for me, God is.
- That looking back, I needn't be afraid, for God proved He protects those who love Him. That because I was faithful to what I believed He had told me about Waiting, because I allowed no other to capture my heart this season because He said so, I was protected. That He loves me too much to let anyone hurt me in a Bad way. That when I finally forgave and needed no apology, an apology came in through the mail.
("Eventually when your Knight in shining armour arrives, he'll come at the behest of the King, and when he's finally unmasked, he'll be like Galahad, the pure and perfect one, the one who sits in the siege perilous, who comes seeking the Holy Grail - you. I've always been more of a Lancelot. I hope we can still be friends.")
- That deeds are deeper than words. That God is preparing me, preparing my heart- for medicine, missions, ministry, marriage and maturity. And because of His grace, I can wait, sit back and enjoy the ride.
- That God is not just my teacher, father and king. But also my best friend, my lover, my buddy.
This year, I am amazed:
- That today, I stand- after the most tumultuous and harrowing year of my life, I stand. Healthy, happy and healed. I think I've found my Centre again.
- That even when anorexia killed me slowly like a poison apple, even as the things of the world, however pretty, became increasingly transient, even when I closed my eyes and tasted death- you made a good thing out of it.
Through my death, you gave me life. Through my fall, you made me stand. And because of that, I can feel a new thing pulsating within me. Tomorrow is possible because of You.
- That through it all, You never let me go.
- That life is learning how to fly a kite. That holding on to what's important might mean having to let go before something snaps. That letting go is necessary to catch the wind and glide with God, that it is all about the tension in the tugs, between grip and release, pull and relax, that keeps us afloat, helps us to soar in the skies.
- That life is learning how to ride a bike- For all its scrapes and bruises, it's ultimately worth it. ( A forest-gump moment is always worth it.)
- That depression is an illness, and treatable. That things may get so hard that giving up seems easier. That recovering means overcoming our fears all the time. But that as we hold on in faith, in trust, to the kitestring in the storm, God does His part, too, and changes the wind. That God understands, sees us through, and most importantly, delivers His promises.
- That even when you lose hope, God never does. That Rainbows really are made by Him.
- That God has His timing. And I understand now why A Taste of Rainbow, a story of hope and healing, couldn't get published then. I still pray it does someday, in His good time.
- That at some point, everybody must decide once and for all if God is real. That for me, God is.
- That looking back, I needn't be afraid, for God proved He protects those who love Him. That because I was faithful to what I believed He had told me about Waiting, because I allowed no other to capture my heart this season because He said so, I was protected. That He loves me too much to let anyone hurt me in a Bad way. That when I finally forgave and needed no apology, an apology came in through the mail.
("Eventually when your Knight in shining armour arrives, he'll come at the behest of the King, and when he's finally unmasked, he'll be like Galahad, the pure and perfect one, the one who sits in the siege perilous, who comes seeking the Holy Grail - you. I've always been more of a Lancelot. I hope we can still be friends.")
- That deeds are deeper than words. That God is preparing me, preparing my heart- for medicine, missions, ministry, marriage and maturity. And because of His grace, I can wait, sit back and enjoy the ride.
- That God is not just my teacher, father and king. But also my best friend, my lover, my buddy.
This year, I am amazed:
- That today, I stand- after the most tumultuous and harrowing year of my life, I stand. Healthy, happy and healed. I think I've found my Centre again.
- That even when anorexia killed me slowly like a poison apple, even as the things of the world, however pretty, became increasingly transient, even when I closed my eyes and tasted death- you made a good thing out of it.
Through my death, you gave me life. Through my fall, you made me stand. And because of that, I can feel a new thing pulsating within me. Tomorrow is possible because of You.
- That through it all, You never let me go.
Pihotography by OY
Concept, modelling by Wai Jia
"We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that,
just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life...
because anyone who has died has been freed from sin. "
Monday, December 29, 2008
It's Inside.
"Wai Jia. Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure, of course."
" What does God's presence feel like to you?"
Pause.
" God's presence ...? "
"Yea, like you know, at church or whenever, what do you mean each time you talk about God's presence? What is it exactly? When do you feel it?"
Pause.
" It's different at different times, you know."
"Yeah, go on."
Pause.
"...God's presence... ... is like a big balloon when I sing at church with the whole church singing. A great, big balloon which billows out and expands to fill the entire hall- it's like He becomes air and spirit, and we are breathing Him, singing Him. It's when I close my eyes and lift my hands and start to cry, because I feel my heart lift, His love and His closeness. Sometimes, He feels like a wind, and other times, like a gentle warmth.
God's presence is when I'm at hospital and having a bad day, alone but not lonely because I feel Him close by me. God's presence is when I see His big love demonstrated through a tiniest act by a friend for someone else or me. It's when I'm doing absolutely nothing and yet feeling one hundred percent purposeful because He has a plan for me.
I feel God's presence when I sprawl out on the grass and look at the sky, and marvel at His glory; when I cycle at the beach and watch the waves crash in; when I walk to school with my head cocked to the sky, like a silly girl, because I can't get enough of that drunken beauty which fills the clouds, or when I walk in the rain..."
"Mm. Uh-huh."
"... God's presence is when I kneel at the foot of my bed every night and talk to Him, and feel at peace. It's when I lay in bed and feel His body close by me- I cannot fall asleep without imagining Him sleeping by me. He always, always watches me sleep. God's presence... is everywhere. Everywhere you want it to be, anywhere, at all times. It's inside. "
Pause.
"Why do you ask?"
"Nothing. I've heard you share about it before, so I just wanted to know."
"Sure, of course."
" What does God's presence feel like to you?"
Pause.
" God's presence ...? "
"Yea, like you know, at church or whenever, what do you mean each time you talk about God's presence? What is it exactly? When do you feel it?"
Pause.
" It's different at different times, you know."
"Yeah, go on."
Pause.
"...God's presence... ... is like a big balloon when I sing at church with the whole church singing. A great, big balloon which billows out and expands to fill the entire hall- it's like He becomes air and spirit, and we are breathing Him, singing Him. It's when I close my eyes and lift my hands and start to cry, because I feel my heart lift, His love and His closeness. Sometimes, He feels like a wind, and other times, like a gentle warmth.
God's presence is when I'm at hospital and having a bad day, alone but not lonely because I feel Him close by me. God's presence is when I see His big love demonstrated through a tiniest act by a friend for someone else or me. It's when I'm doing absolutely nothing and yet feeling one hundred percent purposeful because He has a plan for me.
I feel God's presence when I sprawl out on the grass and look at the sky, and marvel at His glory; when I cycle at the beach and watch the waves crash in; when I walk to school with my head cocked to the sky, like a silly girl, because I can't get enough of that drunken beauty which fills the clouds, or when I walk in the rain..."
"Mm. Uh-huh."
"... God's presence is when I kneel at the foot of my bed every night and talk to Him, and feel at peace. It's when I lay in bed and feel His body close by me- I cannot fall asleep without imagining Him sleeping by me. He always, always watches me sleep. God's presence... is everywhere. Everywhere you want it to be, anywhere, at all times. It's inside. "
Pause.
"Why do you ask?"
"Nothing. I've heard you share about it before, so I just wanted to know."
Quickie Projects for New Years Eve - part 4
This is a youtube video from a New Year's Eve Party segment I did on NBC's IVillage Live. If you are looking for quick nibbler recipes then check out this blog post. For more New Years Eve Ideas....Visit part 1, part 2 or part 3 of the New Years Eve posts.
Quickie Projects for New Years Eve - part 3
Party SignsCreate a fun and welcoming sign with a small TOP HAT & some scrap book paper. I did a little embossing and added some fabby rhinestone letters. Perfect for on a bar or buffet table.
Craft a yard sign made from foam core board. Place it on your front walk so guests can easily find your home and neighbors can get in the New Year's Eve spirit.
Quickie Projects for New Years Eve - part 2
Countdown Clock, Party Crowns & Tagged GlassesAdorn plastic party glasses with a bit of feather trim and a few ribbons, add a festive tag and some wired stars and your guests will be ready to party. Tip: Use low temp hot glue to attach the glasses to the base.
Count Down in style with a recycled record album clock. I added guitar picks for numbers a few sticky back rhinestones and some lime green letter stickers to spell "Happy New Year". You can pick up the clock
parts at any local craft store.
Embellish simple party hats with bits of tinsil, feathers and butterflies. Don't forget to add glitter!
Count Down in style with a recycled record album clock. I added guitar picks for numbers a few sticky back rhinestones and some lime green letter stickers to spell "Happy New Year". You can pick up the clock
parts at any local craft store.
Embellish simple party hats with bits of tinsil, feathers and butterflies. Don't forget to add glitter!
Quickie Projects for New Years Eve - part 1
“Toast of the Town” Party Glasses and Confetti PoppersTis the season for toasting and whether you are planning a party for 4 or 40, I have some simple and easy craft projects that will make your glasses be the “toast of the town.”
If you are planning an intimate gathering, pick up some inexpensive champagne glasses and transform them into memorable toasting glasses with a little etching cream. If you are throwing a larger party and the idea of washing all that glassware is a little daunting, use plastic glasses and a little garland to create fanciful tinsel toasters. For extra party pizzazz, craft up some easy confetti poppers.
Along with these craft projects, here are a few tips on toasting. Be yourself and speak from your heart. Keep the toast articulate and humorous as well as appropriate and to the point. Be brief and end on a positive note. If you are stumped for the perfect toasting words, just raise your glass and a say “cheers!”
Etched Toasting Glasses
Supplies:
Champagne glass
Letter stickers or shapes
Glass etching cream
Paintbrush
Scissors
Rubber gloves
Sink
Steps:
1. Decide on a design plan. Cut around the letter stickers of your choice, leaving a space around the edge of the letter. Optional: If you want to use your own design, you can cut out a design from heavy-duty shelf paper.
2. Clean and dry glass thoroughly.
3. Making a stencil from the cut letter: Peel the letter from the cut piece and discard it. Make sure you keep any “inserts” from the letters (like the inside of an O). This will be the stencil.
4. Apply the stencil and any letter “inserts” to the glass. You can line them up straight or go for a more whimsical look by applying them randomly. You can use a piece of tape to help you line them up straight. Burnish the stencil into the glass using your fingers.
5. Applying the etching cream: While wearing rubber gloves and working on a protected surface open the etching cream. Using a paintbrush, liberally apply the etching cream inside the stencils. Remember that wherever the cream touches the glass will etch, so be careful not to go over the stencil.
6. Wait 5 minutes for the etching cream to react to the glass. Wearing rubber gloves, wash the etching cream off the glass and pull off the stickers.
Tinsel Toasters
Supplies:
Plastic champagne glass
Tinsel garland
Hot glue gun & glue
Steps:
1. Attach the base of the glass to the stem of the glass. If the glass feels flimsy, you can add a drop of hot glue to secure the base to the stem.
2. Wrap a 3-inch piece of garland around the stem of the glass and hot glue in place. (you can use a bamboo skewer to help hold the tinsel in place while hot gluing)
Confetti Poppers
Supplies:
Small plastic champagne glasses (bridal section of craft store)
Gold and black star shaped confetti
2” Gold notary seal sticker – Avery brand (office supply store)
Steps:
1. Fill the small champagne glass 3/4 of the way full with a scoopful of confetti.
2. Seal the top of the glass by centering the gold notary sticker over the opening of the glass and press down the sides of the sticker.
3. Punch the top of the seal with your finger and toss the confetti into the air.
If you are planning an intimate gathering, pick up some inexpensive champagne glasses and transform them into memorable toasting glasses with a little etching cream. If you are throwing a larger party and the idea of washing all that glassware is a little daunting, use plastic glasses and a little garland to create fanciful tinsel toasters. For extra party pizzazz, craft up some easy confetti poppers.
Along with these craft projects, here are a few tips on toasting. Be yourself and speak from your heart. Keep the toast articulate and humorous as well as appropriate and to the point. Be brief and end on a positive note. If you are stumped for the perfect toasting words, just raise your glass and a say “cheers!”
Etched Toasting Glasses
Supplies:
Champagne glass
Letter stickers or shapes
Glass etching cream
Paintbrush
Scissors
Rubber gloves
Sink
Steps:
1. Decide on a design plan. Cut around the letter stickers of your choice, leaving a space around the edge of the letter. Optional: If you want to use your own design, you can cut out a design from heavy-duty shelf paper.
2. Clean and dry glass thoroughly.
3. Making a stencil from the cut letter: Peel the letter from the cut piece and discard it. Make sure you keep any “inserts” from the letters (like the inside of an O). This will be the stencil.
4. Apply the stencil and any letter “inserts” to the glass. You can line them up straight or go for a more whimsical look by applying them randomly. You can use a piece of tape to help you line them up straight. Burnish the stencil into the glass using your fingers.
5. Applying the etching cream: While wearing rubber gloves and working on a protected surface open the etching cream. Using a paintbrush, liberally apply the etching cream inside the stencils. Remember that wherever the cream touches the glass will etch, so be careful not to go over the stencil.
6. Wait 5 minutes for the etching cream to react to the glass. Wearing rubber gloves, wash the etching cream off the glass and pull off the stickers.
Tinsel Toasters
Supplies:
Plastic champagne glass
Tinsel garland
Hot glue gun & glue
Steps:
1. Attach the base of the glass to the stem of the glass. If the glass feels flimsy, you can add a drop of hot glue to secure the base to the stem.
2. Wrap a 3-inch piece of garland around the stem of the glass and hot glue in place. (you can use a bamboo skewer to help hold the tinsel in place while hot gluing)
Confetti Poppers
Supplies:
Small plastic champagne glasses (bridal section of craft store)
Gold and black star shaped confetti
2” Gold notary seal sticker – Avery brand (office supply store)
Steps:
1. Fill the small champagne glass 3/4 of the way full with a scoopful of confetti.
2. Seal the top of the glass by centering the gold notary sticker over the opening of the glass and press down the sides of the sticker.
3. Punch the top of the seal with your finger and toss the confetti into the air.
Parvathy Omanakittan Candid Sexy Photoshoot
She became Miss World 2008 1st runner-up
Age:20 yrs
Height:5' 8.5"
Stats:32-27-36Hobbies: Listening to music, dancing, glass painting and reading, playing basketball and badminton.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Into 2009: Hopes.
It wasn't until lately that I realised how much fear had a hold of my life in the past, how much I had learnt this year about overcoming it, and tasted how much liberation it brings. It is fear which envelopes, entraps and enslaves. And as the later part of the year brought healing, sunlight and breakthrough after breakthrough, I see a fortress crumbling down, a veil torn, and new hope gushing in like a flood through a broken dam.
There is the fear of oneself, of making mistakes, getting hurt, losing control. But this year, as I crinkled, burned and rose again, I am amazed by the courage You have taught me. A heart of fear you have taken away, and replaced it with a lion's. Because of You, I can dream again, hope again, set my sights on goals for the next year.
I would like to:
- Dance again, the way I dance in my own room, but not in my room. I want to be comfortable with my body again, and feel the music go through my heart, into my veins and out of my hair. I want to perform again on a stage someday, with courage, for a meaningful cause.
- Learn how to speak proper Hokkien to converse with my patients. And be unafraid of failure, of not getting the accent perfect.
- Learn how to type with more than 3 fingers.
- Learn to play my flute properly, learn to enjoy music again, practise because I've been given the chance to, because God's given me this present.
- Bike safely, without killing anybody, or myself, in the process. (Got into three accidents on my second biking trip, during which I panicked and lost control when an entire stampede of rowdy malay boys, drunk on carelessness, whizzed by me recklessly. My roadbike and I fell romantically into a ditch, with its gear chains undone, and my waterbottle and cell phone performing a somersault in the air in a perfect trajectory before landing on the ground with a dismantling clunk.)
- Be more meticulous, organised and alert. Ever since I can remember, my sister would chide me about my spilling things over dinner, my forgetfulness, clumsiness and propensity for accidents. Part of my mind's always on a cloud, or a flower petal somewhere, quite the dreamer, yes. And being an adult means sometimes you just can't have that. I love surgery, love the operating theatre, and I want to learn to be fully present, there. It won't happen overnight, but I want to try- want to try without fearing failure, over and over.
- Speak up, boldly. Because I need to as a doctor-to-be. I used to be so outspoken- I'd speak my mind, precisely, like a arrow to a target. Then, I became ill, lost confidence, became unsure of myself, afraid of being embarrassed, of being repeatedly corrected, and my voice got swallowed in my gut. Those who read my writing shall never imagine how terrible my speech can be in comparison. Sometimes, one feels like a fraud.
- Be more thick-skinned. Because the only way to learn and grow, I've reckoned, is to have hide as thick as an elephant's.
- Serve humbly, because you've shown me it is possible- you, you and You. And I want to love others in need the way you loved me when I needed someone, too.
- Love bravely, because love is brave. Because life is short and I don't want there to be words unspoken between us if one of us were taken away tomorrow. A lifetime is too long for me to wait to say thank you and an overdue "I love you" in heaven. Because it's not okay to run away if someone chooses to love me, and not okay to keep everyone at arm's length because of fear.
I would like to love bravely, dance bravely and Live bravely, even with failure always hovering in the horizon, beckoning to ridicule with a mocking audience, ready to scorn, ready to pounce, ready to dig into every inadequacy... and yet still love, dance, live fully.
Still explore, experiment, try. Still dare to take the leap with my eyes closed, but with my heart wide open, ready to embrace, to get burned, to... fail. Ready to take chances, take risks with loving people, even if it feels oh so scary. Will you love me back?
Because cycling could feel like the best thing on earth, like gliding on top of a honey-glazed rainbow. Because Love could just be round the corner.
And because, if you never try, you just never know. Ah, God loves surprises.
There is the fear of oneself, of making mistakes, getting hurt, losing control. But this year, as I crinkled, burned and rose again, I am amazed by the courage You have taught me. A heart of fear you have taken away, and replaced it with a lion's. Because of You, I can dream again, hope again, set my sights on goals for the next year.
I would like to:
- Dance again, the way I dance in my own room, but not in my room. I want to be comfortable with my body again, and feel the music go through my heart, into my veins and out of my hair. I want to perform again on a stage someday, with courage, for a meaningful cause.
- Learn how to speak proper Hokkien to converse with my patients. And be unafraid of failure, of not getting the accent perfect.
- Learn how to type with more than 3 fingers.
- Learn to play my flute properly, learn to enjoy music again, practise because I've been given the chance to, because God's given me this present.
- Bike safely, without killing anybody, or myself, in the process. (Got into three accidents on my second biking trip, during which I panicked and lost control when an entire stampede of rowdy malay boys, drunk on carelessness, whizzed by me recklessly. My roadbike and I fell romantically into a ditch, with its gear chains undone, and my waterbottle and cell phone performing a somersault in the air in a perfect trajectory before landing on the ground with a dismantling clunk.)
- Be more meticulous, organised and alert. Ever since I can remember, my sister would chide me about my spilling things over dinner, my forgetfulness, clumsiness and propensity for accidents. Part of my mind's always on a cloud, or a flower petal somewhere, quite the dreamer, yes. And being an adult means sometimes you just can't have that. I love surgery, love the operating theatre, and I want to learn to be fully present, there. It won't happen overnight, but I want to try- want to try without fearing failure, over and over.
- Speak up, boldly. Because I need to as a doctor-to-be. I used to be so outspoken- I'd speak my mind, precisely, like a arrow to a target. Then, I became ill, lost confidence, became unsure of myself, afraid of being embarrassed, of being repeatedly corrected, and my voice got swallowed in my gut. Those who read my writing shall never imagine how terrible my speech can be in comparison. Sometimes, one feels like a fraud.
- Be more thick-skinned. Because the only way to learn and grow, I've reckoned, is to have hide as thick as an elephant's.
- Serve humbly, because you've shown me it is possible- you, you and You. And I want to love others in need the way you loved me when I needed someone, too.
- Love bravely, because love is brave. Because life is short and I don't want there to be words unspoken between us if one of us were taken away tomorrow. A lifetime is too long for me to wait to say thank you and an overdue "I love you" in heaven. Because it's not okay to run away if someone chooses to love me, and not okay to keep everyone at arm's length because of fear.
I would like to love bravely, dance bravely and Live bravely, even with failure always hovering in the horizon, beckoning to ridicule with a mocking audience, ready to scorn, ready to pounce, ready to dig into every inadequacy... and yet still love, dance, live fully.
Still explore, experiment, try. Still dare to take the leap with my eyes closed, but with my heart wide open, ready to embrace, to get burned, to... fail. Ready to take chances, take risks with loving people, even if it feels oh so scary. Will you love me back?
Because cycling could feel like the best thing on earth, like gliding on top of a honey-glazed rainbow. Because Love could just be round the corner.
And because, if you never try, you just never know. Ah, God loves surprises.
"Be strong and courageous.
Do not be afraid or terrified because of them,
for the Lord your God goes with you;
he will never leave you nor forsake you."
-Deuteronomy 31:6
Saturday, December 27, 2008
You're my Everything.
Just a week ago, I lamented how much I missed acting and dancing, just how much I missed the stage, where for once I can be Vulnerable for a reason, be me for an audience which cannot decipher which is and is not me, where I can give back something of an artist's heart, the heart God created, back into the world, even if only for a moment. Just a week ago, I asked God what made me special- why do you give me an artist's heart if I'm called to be a medical doctor, and won't you please use me?
Last weekend, when they asked me if I would act as the female lead in a mime about a girl's journey in losing and finding God again, performed during an outreach event for our fringe community at a drug rehabilitation centre today, I knew I could not refuse. God, that's a really fast answer, you know.
Tears, pain, anguish and real relief. The very first time we acted it out, I actually cried.
God, you here for me? The universal question we all want answered.
Did You really love me from the start? When Time began and my heart choked into life from the darkness into sunlight?
Wonderment and awe, hope and splendour. Lemon-yellow flowers, pearl-white doves and cherry red apples are the Best things on earth. Did you really Create them just for me?
But it's such a crazy world out there... My head and my heart hurt in synchrony, and I cannot hear your voice. I hear the sinister beat of a pounding drum, swallowing my heartbeat. God, where are you when I hurt?
And as we finally presented our item to the many migrant workers at the outreach Christmas carnival this evening, I think I felt you, God. You know, in the beginning of the year when I struggled with depression, someone once asked me why in my drawings, I always drew God as a magnificent hand, and I, a tiny girl only worthy to hug His fingertips. God is your friend, she said, your lover- Can you imagine that? You know, when she asked me that question, I think I cried for half an hour, because I felt so dirty inside. Unworthy.
And today, at the final scene, when we hugged on stage, God, I think I felt You. My best friend, lover, father- all at once. Did you know, I worked so hard to try and imagine you as my friend, lover, husband. Did you know, today I think I felt You, your bosom, and not just your fingertips? And I wanted to cry but I was too happy, really. Worthy, that's what You made us.
I enjoyed it so much. I understand a little more why You made me this way, with an artist's heart.
Because when I lay on the open field at the drug rehabilitation centre, underneath the wide open sky, I could make out heart shapes, of different sizes, from the blue of the sky and white of the clouds that You created. Because my tears tell your story, my fragility tell your strength. Because when I performed on stage today, with my amateur skills and unpolished emotions, I felt your pleasure. Pleasing You- is firstly enjoyable, delightful, like cherry apples which I love, and also liberating, profound.
Wonderment and awe, hope and splendour. Sin and evil, construed by the devil. But you reminded me, that You're here, hearing me. How is it that when I fold up like origami, cowardly along the same creases, wishing to pack everything away in a box, You iron me out, fresh as hotel bedspreads so I can start anew and afresh?
You've brought me a long way, God. Because of you, I'm healed today. You're my everything.
* This is the famous Everything Lifehouse mime we performed today (I've yet to receive our videotaped version as yet). Enjoy.
Last weekend, when they asked me if I would act as the female lead in a mime about a girl's journey in losing and finding God again, performed during an outreach event for our fringe community at a drug rehabilitation centre today, I knew I could not refuse. God, that's a really fast answer, you know.
Tears, pain, anguish and real relief. The very first time we acted it out, I actually cried.
God, you here for me? The universal question we all want answered.
Did You really love me from the start? When Time began and my heart choked into life from the darkness into sunlight?
Wonderment and awe, hope and splendour. Lemon-yellow flowers, pearl-white doves and cherry red apples are the Best things on earth. Did you really Create them just for me?
But it's such a crazy world out there... My head and my heart hurt in synchrony, and I cannot hear your voice. I hear the sinister beat of a pounding drum, swallowing my heartbeat. God, where are you when I hurt?
And as we finally presented our item to the many migrant workers at the outreach Christmas carnival this evening, I think I felt you, God. You know, in the beginning of the year when I struggled with depression, someone once asked me why in my drawings, I always drew God as a magnificent hand, and I, a tiny girl only worthy to hug His fingertips. God is your friend, she said, your lover- Can you imagine that? You know, when she asked me that question, I think I cried for half an hour, because I felt so dirty inside. Unworthy.
And today, at the final scene, when we hugged on stage, God, I think I felt You. My best friend, lover, father- all at once. Did you know, I worked so hard to try and imagine you as my friend, lover, husband. Did you know, today I think I felt You, your bosom, and not just your fingertips? And I wanted to cry but I was too happy, really. Worthy, that's what You made us.
I enjoyed it so much. I understand a little more why You made me this way, with an artist's heart.
Because when I lay on the open field at the drug rehabilitation centre, underneath the wide open sky, I could make out heart shapes, of different sizes, from the blue of the sky and white of the clouds that You created. Because my tears tell your story, my fragility tell your strength. Because when I performed on stage today, with my amateur skills and unpolished emotions, I felt your pleasure. Pleasing You- is firstly enjoyable, delightful, like cherry apples which I love, and also liberating, profound.
Wonderment and awe, hope and splendour. Sin and evil, construed by the devil. But you reminded me, that You're here, hearing me. How is it that when I fold up like origami, cowardly along the same creases, wishing to pack everything away in a box, You iron me out, fresh as hotel bedspreads so I can start anew and afresh?
You've brought me a long way, God. Because of you, I'm healed today. You're my everything.
* This is the famous Everything Lifehouse mime we performed today (I've yet to receive our videotaped version as yet). Enjoy.
"You are the strength, that keeps me walking.
You are the hope, that keeps me trusting.
You are the light to my soul.
You are my purpose, You're everything.
How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?"
- Everything by Lifehouse
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Merry Christmas.
I dream a lot, both in the day and at night. And it often gives me goosebumps to find out that my nocturnal dreams often do play out in real life later on. I’ve had clear episodes of déjà vu before, simply because I’d had a previous dream about certain places I’d never visited before, and dreams which baffle me at the time- of warnings about people, months before they turned their backs on me. So I’ve learnt to take them a little seriously, taking them sometimes as warnings, learning lessons, or simply, an opportunity to understand what’s been in my mind subconsciously.
I had a dream last week, of someone being carried onto a ship. Wrapped from top to bottom in white cloth, the person’s face was unrevealed. Lots of tiny Lilliputian people were carrying the person up, onto the huge mast of the ship, and I wondered what it was they were doing. They were very fast, and the mast was shaking in the fierce wind.
I was watching, in third person as it all played out. It took a while for me to understand it all, and the moment I had an epiphany of what it paralleled to, I gasped in my dream and woke up, shocked.
It took me three days later, on the Sunday at church when we sang about taking up our crosses (that is, in some sense, learning to heed God's call for our lives) that I realized the striking resemblance of the shape of that mast to a cross, the parallel of the whole scene to the biblical scene of crucifixion. And then tears came again because the masked white person in the dream was... not only Him, but me too.
I remembered the meaning of Christmas, of forgiveness, and asked God to show me how, and received an answer-
-For I wanted to forgive the way God forgives us, forgave and forgives me, too.
The next day, I had a dream of X, whom I had seethed against for months. I deserved an apology, I thought. Surely at least an apology. And in my dream that night, I angered and burned. I awoke, stunned because I thought I had let the whole thing go, and remembering the dream of the cross the night before, I determined to forgive.
As if in freak coincidence, X showed up the next day, after disappearing without a trace for months. I was shocked to see that familiar face, and yet unsurprised, for it was almost as if God had given me the chance to prepare my heart, change my attitude just before our meeting.
As my eyes met that familiar face, I remembered the dream, remembered the cross, the meaning of Christmas, of forgiveness- and smiled, in gratitude and compassion. In those eyes, I saw God’s eyes, and in my own hands, saw His. And while a part of me was grudgingly expecting an apology, my greater half overtook me as the white person on that large cross-like mast loomed into my mind. I smiled, reconciled it within myself, and let it go. For we are all fallen, and to stay angry, resentful, would be to dismiss God’s love and sacrifice for us, and to rank my own sin lesser than others.
We think we have rights, rights to be made up to- when the only right we really do have is to love others the way God loves us.
At that moment, a great relief swept over me. No longer disgusted, or mad, or disdainful, I went up, smiled, and realised the freedom, joy and wonder of forgiveness.
Because of You, You who were born on Christmas Day, because of how You forgave me, I can do what is impossible by my own strength.
Thank God for Christmas Day.
Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other,
I had a dream last week, of someone being carried onto a ship. Wrapped from top to bottom in white cloth, the person’s face was unrevealed. Lots of tiny Lilliputian people were carrying the person up, onto the huge mast of the ship, and I wondered what it was they were doing. They were very fast, and the mast was shaking in the fierce wind.
I was watching, in third person as it all played out. It took a while for me to understand it all, and the moment I had an epiphany of what it paralleled to, I gasped in my dream and woke up, shocked.
It took me three days later, on the Sunday at church when we sang about taking up our crosses (that is, in some sense, learning to heed God's call for our lives) that I realized the striking resemblance of the shape of that mast to a cross, the parallel of the whole scene to the biblical scene of crucifixion. And then tears came again because the masked white person in the dream was... not only Him, but me too.
I remembered the meaning of Christmas, of forgiveness, and asked God to show me how, and received an answer-
-For I wanted to forgive the way God forgives us, forgave and forgives me, too.
The next day, I had a dream of X, whom I had seethed against for months. I deserved an apology, I thought. Surely at least an apology. And in my dream that night, I angered and burned. I awoke, stunned because I thought I had let the whole thing go, and remembering the dream of the cross the night before, I determined to forgive.
As if in freak coincidence, X showed up the next day, after disappearing without a trace for months. I was shocked to see that familiar face, and yet unsurprised, for it was almost as if God had given me the chance to prepare my heart, change my attitude just before our meeting.
As my eyes met that familiar face, I remembered the dream, remembered the cross, the meaning of Christmas, of forgiveness- and smiled, in gratitude and compassion. In those eyes, I saw God’s eyes, and in my own hands, saw His. And while a part of me was grudgingly expecting an apology, my greater half overtook me as the white person on that large cross-like mast loomed into my mind. I smiled, reconciled it within myself, and let it go. For we are all fallen, and to stay angry, resentful, would be to dismiss God’s love and sacrifice for us, and to rank my own sin lesser than others.
We think we have rights, rights to be made up to- when the only right we really do have is to love others the way God loves us.
At that moment, a great relief swept over me. No longer disgusted, or mad, or disdainful, I went up, smiled, and realised the freedom, joy and wonder of forgiveness.
Because of You, You who were born on Christmas Day, because of how You forgave me, I can do what is impossible by my own strength.
Thank God for Christmas Day.
Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other,
just as in Christ God forgave you.
-Ephesians 4:32
Merry Christmas!
I hope everyone has a Safe and Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas and a Super New Year.
One of my favorite ornaments!
When I was little...
The Santa Baby costume from my book Bow Wow WOW!
Amy's pugs get in the holiday spirit.
Plaid Enterprises
Steve and I trying to convince Santa we have been good.
The Christmas elves with Steve's tree.
One of my favorite ornaments!
When I was little...
The Santa Baby costume from my book Bow Wow WOW!
Amy's pugs get in the holiday spirit.Plaid Enterprises
Steve and I trying to convince Santa we have been good.
The Christmas elves with Steve's tree.Item Girl Rakhi Sawant As Queen Cheerleader By Indian Cricket League
Here are some pics of Rakhi Sawant when she got selected as Queen Cheerleader by Indian Cricket League for Indian cheerleader squad, ‘ICL Zeebras’in Mumbai.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
I Understand Now.
* To find out how you may help underprivileged children and give them a chance to dream, please visit www.kitesongproject.wordpress.com.
When I was little, Christmas eve was the best day of the year. Best, better than birthdays, even, because no one forgot.
I believed in everything when I was a child- Santa (my mother told me he parked his sleigh on our living room balcony), tooth fairies (she used to put coins under my pillow because I told her how excited I was that my tooth fell out), princesses (I begged and asked if I could sleep on a thousand mattresses stacked my blankets like the Princess and the Pea, but settled for having my blankets tucked under my pillows the way they do in hotels so I’d feel more like royalty), smurfs even (I asked my mother if I could carry my things in a cloth bag tied to the end of a pole)… the list could go one forever. I had a vivid imagination.
When Christmas was around the corner, I remember I made my own cards to Santa, sealed them in an air-mail envelope, scrawled TO MR. SANTA, THE NORTH POLE over it, and drew my own stamp on the right hand side to top it all off. I remember clutching my envelope under my armpit proudly and trooping to the mailbox with a renewed sense of life's purpose, proudly depositing it into the box, sure that Santa would read my mail about my asking for a pony and a game set of Hungry Hippos. And if I didn’t get one for Christmas, I remember thinking I would forgive him because he must be too busy.
And then I learnt later that for Santa to deliver all the presents which childish brats world over want, he could only spend some millionth of a second at each stop; I learnt that it wasn’t possible for tooth fairies to carry international currency; I learnt that I’d much rather be a tough princess (like Belle in Beauty and the Beast) than a wimpy one; and I learnt from my mother that a five year-old carrying a long wooden pole to school might prove rather hazardous.
And so Christmas became about dinner, presents and tales. I did get a game set of Hungry Hippos in the end, under the Christmas tree, to which my mother promised the handwriting on the gift tag was certainly not hers, though it surprised her that it bore a strinking resemblence to Santa's.
Till much later, I never knew the true meaning of Christmas.
This year, things are different.
Christmas is, for once, not a frantic rush of shopping and giving, but a time of reflection, sitting back in gratitude and thanksgiving.
This year, Christmas is Special.
Special, because Grandpa Zhou enjoyed the Christmas concert last Saturday so much. It was apparent he might never have watched a theatre production, for he made comments, so earnestly and loudly, at all the crucial moments, that you couldn’t help but laugh at his child-like earnestness.
"Wa, is that really her singing? Her voice is so good!" He asks in mandarin, raising his voice above the loud tune.
"No, Grandpa Zhou, " I try to whsiper back. "It's a recording. She's lip synching, heh."
At the end of the production, when the True meaning of Christmas was explained, he put his hand high up, straight like a lightning rod, as a pledge of commitment to his new-found faith in life and God, after he decided that he wanted to be God’s friend, too. I cried at that moment, when he went up to the front, excited to be prayed for, for just a year ago, his disdain for God was apparent and disturbing.
“Wow, that was such a good play,” he said. “ Excellent acting. And wah, the sound system here is really really good, eh?”
This year, Christmas is Special.
Special, because this year, we’re going to perform a special Christmas skit to the fringe community in the red light district and give out food to the needy there.
Special, because so many of my wishes came true.
I have family and friends who love and care for me, a White Place that is still my refuge, school assignments and projects which I find joy and fulfillment doing, gatherings of people I love to attend, and a new roadbike too.
Christmas used to be about Santa’s presents, letters within a flower-bordered envelope sent to the North Pole, and yummy puddings. This year, as I shared the Christmas Story with many others as a volunteer along the roads of town, I finally understood for myself the significance of this season of forgiveness, of renewal and of new life.
Christmas is the day Jesus was born, the reason why I'm healed, joyful and alive today. Because of Him, I can look forward to tomorrow, too.
This year, there is every reason for Christmas to be dull and boring- after all, I just ended my exams but a few days ago, and hardly have had any chance to soak up the festive spirit; I don’t believe in Santa anymore; and I’ve hardly heard any Christmas songs because my radio’s gone wonky.
But Christmas is Special, most Special this year. Because Grandpa Zhou invited me to his church where they give out free food for lunch with him, because I’d the chance to volunteer for a good cause, because ha, I got a new roadbike as a present, and because, for once… I understand what it means. Christmas is not merely about festivity, Santa or carols.
I finally understand now- the True meaning of Christmas.
Forgiveness, renewal and new life-for me and for others, because of You.
All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:
When I was little, Christmas eve was the best day of the year. Best, better than birthdays, even, because no one forgot.
I believed in everything when I was a child- Santa (my mother told me he parked his sleigh on our living room balcony), tooth fairies (she used to put coins under my pillow because I told her how excited I was that my tooth fell out), princesses (I begged and asked if I could sleep on a thousand mattresses stacked my blankets like the Princess and the Pea, but settled for having my blankets tucked under my pillows the way they do in hotels so I’d feel more like royalty), smurfs even (I asked my mother if I could carry my things in a cloth bag tied to the end of a pole)… the list could go one forever. I had a vivid imagination.
When Christmas was around the corner, I remember I made my own cards to Santa, sealed them in an air-mail envelope, scrawled TO MR. SANTA, THE NORTH POLE over it, and drew my own stamp on the right hand side to top it all off. I remember clutching my envelope under my armpit proudly and trooping to the mailbox with a renewed sense of life's purpose, proudly depositing it into the box, sure that Santa would read my mail about my asking for a pony and a game set of Hungry Hippos. And if I didn’t get one for Christmas, I remember thinking I would forgive him because he must be too busy.
And then I learnt later that for Santa to deliver all the presents which childish brats world over want, he could only spend some millionth of a second at each stop; I learnt that it wasn’t possible for tooth fairies to carry international currency; I learnt that I’d much rather be a tough princess (like Belle in Beauty and the Beast) than a wimpy one; and I learnt from my mother that a five year-old carrying a long wooden pole to school might prove rather hazardous.
And so Christmas became about dinner, presents and tales. I did get a game set of Hungry Hippos in the end, under the Christmas tree, to which my mother promised the handwriting on the gift tag was certainly not hers, though it surprised her that it bore a strinking resemblence to Santa's.
Till much later, I never knew the true meaning of Christmas.
This year, things are different.
Christmas is, for once, not a frantic rush of shopping and giving, but a time of reflection, sitting back in gratitude and thanksgiving.
This year, Christmas is Special.
Special, because Grandpa Zhou enjoyed the Christmas concert last Saturday so much. It was apparent he might never have watched a theatre production, for he made comments, so earnestly and loudly, at all the crucial moments, that you couldn’t help but laugh at his child-like earnestness.
"Wa, is that really her singing? Her voice is so good!" He asks in mandarin, raising his voice above the loud tune.
"No, Grandpa Zhou, " I try to whsiper back. "It's a recording. She's lip synching, heh."
At the end of the production, when the True meaning of Christmas was explained, he put his hand high up, straight like a lightning rod, as a pledge of commitment to his new-found faith in life and God, after he decided that he wanted to be God’s friend, too. I cried at that moment, when he went up to the front, excited to be prayed for, for just a year ago, his disdain for God was apparent and disturbing.
“Wow, that was such a good play,” he said. “ Excellent acting. And wah, the sound system here is really really good, eh?”
This year, Christmas is Special.
Special, because this year, we’re going to perform a special Christmas skit to the fringe community in the red light district and give out food to the needy there.
Special, because so many of my wishes came true.
I have family and friends who love and care for me, a White Place that is still my refuge, school assignments and projects which I find joy and fulfillment doing, gatherings of people I love to attend, and a new roadbike too.
Christmas used to be about Santa’s presents, letters within a flower-bordered envelope sent to the North Pole, and yummy puddings. This year, as I shared the Christmas Story with many others as a volunteer along the roads of town, I finally understood for myself the significance of this season of forgiveness, of renewal and of new life.
Christmas is the day Jesus was born, the reason why I'm healed, joyful and alive today. Because of Him, I can look forward to tomorrow, too.
This year, there is every reason for Christmas to be dull and boring- after all, I just ended my exams but a few days ago, and hardly have had any chance to soak up the festive spirit; I don’t believe in Santa anymore; and I’ve hardly heard any Christmas songs because my radio’s gone wonky.
But Christmas is Special, most Special this year. Because Grandpa Zhou invited me to his church where they give out free food for lunch with him, because I’d the chance to volunteer for a good cause, because ha, I got a new roadbike as a present, and because, for once… I understand what it means. Christmas is not merely about festivity, Santa or carols.
I finally understand now- the True meaning of Christmas.
Forgiveness, renewal and new life-for me and for others, because of You.
All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:
"The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son,
and they will call him Immanuel"
—which means, "God with us."
- Matthew 1:22-23
Afterthought.
Truth be told, I think the artist in me does love a good love story, does love the heroic grandeur, the caricature, the poetry, pursuit and passion. I am an artist, and foremost, human and a woman after all. But both fiction and artists scare me- them with their way with words, to turn sand into stardust, lillies into lures, gibberish to gold. After which, it all evaporates into effervescence, with nothing eternal left behind, only tangled feelings and messed up heads.
So I sit on a bench with a big-screen epic story playing behind me, while I play with my fingers and watch the sky. It scares me to know, I'm actually this scared.
So I sit on a bench with a big-screen epic story playing behind me, while I play with my fingers and watch the sky. It scares me to know, I'm actually this scared.
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