</head> <body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://draft.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d10809469\x26blogName\x3dReminiscencePortal\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://reminiscenceportal.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://reminiscenceportal.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-4784582789553578356', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>


29.4.07

First time at the ballet?

Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake;



The setting is the late 20th century. But what makes Borune's Swan Lake seem new is something else: it takes the old ballet's idea of a struggle against fate and translates it into a tale about a fight against repression. The traditional Swan Lake has a central nexus of 4 characters: the queen of the swan-maidens, Odette; Prince Sigefried; the sorcerer Rothbart; and his enchantress daughter Odile. Like the old ballet, the Bourne version has 4 key characters: the male Swan, bare-chested and whitelegged; the Prince, tormented and increasingly psychotic; his publicly comme il faut but privately hypocritical mother the Queen; and the Stranger, clad in black leather. What's most striking is that, without taking any beauty or drama away from the swans, Bourne transfers to the Prince much of the psychological drama that in the ballet had belonged to Odette. Here it's the Prince who hopes for liberty, who struggles against repression, who needs love to make him sade. The Swan, by contrast, is free will and eventually loving. The famous swan music is still his, and the memorable swan choereography is reconceived for him: all of which makes him an overwhelming presence in the Prince's mind. In strictly narrative terms, the ballet's 'Rothbart' figure is replaced, in Bourne's production, by the dangerously scheming Secretary. He counts for much less than Rothbart did; but that's because here the Queen counts for far more. She is, as Rothbart was. the sinister controlling schemer who blights the prince's hope. And yet, in the selfish lascivious way, she's just funny. One person alone can't see the joke, and that's her son. Swan and Stranger, the freest people onstage, are played by the same dancer. This may seem to be just a gender-bending equivalent of the ballet's double heroine, Odette-Odile; but this make role has a psychological force unlike anything in ballet: it's filmic. Bourne's psychodramaowes much to such Hitchcock films. And when all the swans flock on the Prince's bed in the final scene, Bourne has openly acknowledged his source: Hitchcock's The Birds.

It is in the final scene that Bourne's drama rises to its greatest heights. Most ballet choreographers have had a problem with how little music - and how many climaxes - Tchaikovsky provided here. Bourne, by contrast, rises to the score, and finds in its intense countinuity, cue after cue for his unfolding psychodrama. One unexpected twist follows another. The prince meets the swans. The many swans meet the one Swan. The Swan meets the Prince. The story keeps changing, and crisis piles upon crisis. The dance language changes too. The swans no longer look free. They are visions in the Prince's mind, and they have taken on aspects of his own knotted body-language; but they make it threatening, malign. The Swan too is altered, and it is with him that the arc of the drama reaches its most heroic climax. At one point, thinking that his Prince is dead, he opens his mouth in a huge howl. It takes us back to that other myth: the song of the swan who has lost his mate and is about to die.

My first time at the ballet was pretty enthralling. For the life of gloved sleeves and the masquerade, we got all dressed up, the guys in their suits. The girls got a little pink rose each from a particularly gentlemanly someone :) I was pretty excited, after hearing that it was a contemporary ballet reading NO tutus. I was sure that the dreary dreamy old school ballet would bore me to death, even though I've never sat through one (I figured that's the reason why I'm alive, anyway). Regeant theatre was how all old magnificent theatres that had lived past it's glory days should be - lavish and antique, with a tinge of tarnishing brass.
Unfortunately, my 1st impression of the ballet was that it was a tad too twisted for this innocent mind of mine, touching on the increasingly liberal issues of gays and their acceptance in society. After more background reading, I'm beginning to appreciate it more though. The underlying messages are really deep, and I've a hunch that this is what modern day Tchaikovsky would be more than pleased to see anyway (I'm sure he'd be just as disappointed at the lack of a live orchestra though). Afterall, he did grapple with his sexuality, being a closet gay. So many intricately woven themes there.
I did like the sets where the swans dance behind the translucent screen, and the nurses danced right in front of the spotlights set in the ground such that they casted eerie shadows on the white wall behind them. Hmm, maybe I'd take another chance at an untwisted ballet someday (no more contemporary; just give me pretty ballerinas in pink tutus, thank you). But for now, I can't wait for Phantom of the Opera!!

i fluttered by;
5:02 PM
0 comments



21.4.07

A blasting good time at the Ministry of Paintball, Echuca.

When you're happy and you know it, shoot some balls. *Clap, clap
It was a 3 hour drive up to Echuca, but it was well worth it. Went trigger-happy on the battle field, where they gave us different terrains and different objectives to achieve each time. Oooh the Civil War open fire one was the most horrid, we had to take aim at the opposing team without any form of cover. And some idiot shot my lower back when I was walking OFF the playing zone after having been killed, causing the nastiest bruise out of the 5 that I have to boast of my battle experience. War scars, I call them. Not pleasant at all, those pain-balls. Thankfully, headshots hurt less with the protection of the googles, although technically I would have died instantaneously ;p
We had lots of laughs. Bonding time on the bus with the Year 1s, watching out for other's backs, having a go at my aiming skills, and testing how much guts I had to 'chiong'. Probably more fun for the girls who haven't had a taste of army, especially silly me who remembers sitting through one of those army documentaries at the Science Centre and wondering how it would be like for her if she enlisted.
Can finally use a term my brother uses all the time. Gg, everyone. Gg.
PS. Glad you're alive. Maybe things would take a better turn. There was a rainbow on the way back, afterall. And Kaiwen actually woke me up to see it.
PPS. Pat actually thought my lower back bruise was a tatoo!! Oh my gosh, how funky.

i fluttered by;
8:08 PM
0 comments



19.4.07

Mt Dandenong.

I'd go to Mt Dandenong again anytime. Lining the road at the halfway point were quaint old houses to sip tea in, eateries to hang out at, and antique unique shops to visit. Spent a whole afternoon there, but haven't seen my imagination's worth ;p We visited two reknown places - Ms Marples and Pie in the Sky, for their good food. Then there was an interesting teacup shop and Geppetto's Workshop, an adapt right out of Pinocchio. How fairytale-ish :) Shall not say more, I'd let the pictures do the talking!

The quaint old place that is Ms. Marples, based on the books by Agatha Christie.

[Above] Sweet. Growing old sharing tea.

[Above] Tea for two, anyone?
[Above and below] The food tour. I really recommend the bread pudding from Ms Marples and Gold Award pies from Pie in the Sky!!
[Above] The teacups shop. Really unique designs all around.

[Above] The ugly old witch in Geppetto's Workshop. Somehow reminds me of Hansel and Gretel. Beware children, if you misbehave.
[Above] Purple fairies and orange butterflies :)



Check out the video. How childish, eh? But very amusing all at the same time. I think I started reliving my childhood once I stepped into Geppetto's Workshop :)

i fluttered by;
5:35 PM
0 comments



18.4.07

Prelude 12/21.


lyrics - AFI Lyrics
Love this song, especially where the drums come in. Such a multisensory aesthetic experience :) Played it over skype for the brother, and he was whooping the air at the very same part. Wootwoot, brother you definitely have good taste!! :))
12/21, a reference to December the 21st the winter solstice, which has the longest night of the year, makes the song even more meaningful :)

i fluttered by;
5:40 PM
0 comments



17.4.07

My new fascination.

http://www.thefreedictionary.com by farlex

Oh my, check this out. It's even better than dictionary.com! No wait, it's even better than google, wikipedia, acronymfinder and dictionary.com combined!! Why, it IS google, wikipedia, acronymfinder AND dictionary.com combined.

It also has free website content for webmasters and bloggers, hence the new fun and factoids on the side bar :) Golly, I even made it my homepage. Byebye, trusty old Google. Hello the new Google with somuchmoreotherwhammyaddons.

I especially like it's medical-dictionary and acronym search tools :)

i fluttered by;
12:41 PM
0 comments



14.4.07

Domesticated.

Not really in the entire meaning of the word. But yes, here's more pics of food cooked just to whet your appetite. In a clockwise fashion: sambal kangkong, good ol' mushroom (6 types!) and chicken and carrot and potato soup to fight the cold, unagi, sunnysideup, oven-baked pork ribs, baizhanji and oily chicken rice with soysauce, chilli and garlic!! Yumm.
The link's for you to figure. Don't get too taken aback, I might just be displaying some fine photography. But I must say, this is some 1st class approval ;p
Pfft. I've still got so much else to blog about, but I HAVE to study. The mid-sem is in 4 days' time. Will update as and when I can, and hence I've got to disclaim that the posts are pretty backdated. Feels like I'm playing in rewind from an old videocasette, and bits and pieces are missing or blurred, especially with this failing memory of mine. But I definitely still have to reminisce about my Easter break and THE trip up Mt Dandenong.
Grr. Can't wait for Wed. As for now, its back to hitting the books.
Peace out.

i fluttered by;
7:59 PM
0 comments



8.4.07

A poem on the Lord's Resurrection Day.

Father,
Now the sun is risen,
I thank Thee for Thy silent strength
Given me in my hour of despair--
When the darkness
Seemed to smother,
And the tears
I selfishly shed
For my own pain
And trivial troubles
Shut out the light,
And I rendered myself
Alone.

Father,
Now Thy Son is risen,
I thank Thee for allowing One
So much greater than I
Thine Only Begotten,
Flesh of Thy flesh,
To complete a task so
Wonderful and
Terrible
By leaving Him
Necessarily
Alone.

Father,
In the garden green of Olivet,
In the still and solitude
The Creator of everything
Offered up all He had,
And submitted Himself
To all the vengeance of Hell;
And in His hour of need,
The Friend of the friendless
Was forsaken,
Forgotten,
For what?
Although the spirit was willing
The flesh indeed was weak;
And they slumbered,
Leaving Him,
The Balm of mortal pain,
To suffer,
Alone.

In the beauty of that desert place,
The Savior of mankind
Faced all the ugliness
His charges could offer:
The pain, the hate,
The sin, the sorrow,
The waste, the wickedness,
The pride, the poverty,
The deceit, the ignorance,
The doubt, the fear,
The betrayal
--And even the
Loneliness--
Alone.

As His immortal, righteous blood
Was spilled, like sweat
From every pore
And fell to the thirsty earth below,
I cannot hide
My honor and my awe
At His great love for me;
Neither can I hide
My shame,
Self-reproach
And regret. For
How many of those precious drops
Am I responsible for?
--As He suffered
The bitter cup,
Alone.

The longest night
the world will ever know,
The solstice of eternity,
Fell on Emmanuel
And by the light of torches
The Light of the world,
The very God of Love,
Was betrayed by a kiss,
Enslaved by strangers,
Rejected by His own,
Denied by those who
Knew Him best,
And led away
In chains
Alone.

How it must have hurt Thee
To witness the sufferings
Of Thy Beloved
Inflicted by Thine other children--
Those whom He had come to save;
To steadfastly persevere,
And answer not a word,
Amidst the jeers
The blows,
The spit
And scorn;
To see His perfect body torn,
His perfect soul rent in anguish,
Staggering and fainting beneath
The evil and imperfection
Of all mortality
Collectively
Alone.

And Thou,
Beyond the grasp of human pain
Did surely mourn at the
Mocking of His misery
By so many witnesses and
Beneficiaries of His
Miracles and ministry--
Those who knew better;
Who unworthily
And ungratefully
Bore Thy birthright;
Those with whom Thou had
Cut they covenant
Now cut the flesh of Thy Son
Deliberately.
And in the crowded mob
He wept
Alone.

Down the winding passages of
The City of Peace,
Stumbled the Prince of Peace.
Plaited thorns adorned His crown;
Stripped of all but His
Mantle of Duty;
How it must have burdened Thee
To see Thine Own,
Who in innocence
Did glorify Thy name,
Bearing a scapegoat's load--
The weight thereof
Not unfamiliar to Thee,
Which could so mercifully have been loosed
By Thy Omnipotence;
Yet in the name of mercy
Didst Thou allow
This charade of justice
To continue.
At a crossroads He was lifted up
Upon the cruel cross.
And in His torment,
When He needed Thee most,
Thou left Him
Unwillingly
Alone.

Father,
In the vastness of Thy creations,
was there any place large enough
To contain the immensity
Of Thy sorrow?
Was there any place small enough
And far enough away
To hide from the pleas and cries
Of Thy suffering Son?
Until the moment He pronounced
"It is finished."
Triumphing, at last
Alone.

In olden times, the Scriptures say
Thou wert a jealous God described;
I think I know now why--
Jealous lest man ever
Slight,
Forget,
Or with anything replace
The memory of the Sacrifice
Made by Thy Son
Alone.

O Father,
I thank Thee
For sacrificing Thy
Fatherhood for Thy
Godhood, by
Giving us Thy Son
To pay the ransom we could not.
And by so doing,
Thy righteous heart was broken also--
For what Father could bear to see
His helpless child suffer
And not rush to his aid?
--Instead, to leave him
Intentionally
Alone.

O Father,
I thank Thee
That through the tears that fell
From His eyes
And from Thine,
That my tears may be dried
And my eyes opened
To the Hope of my Salvation,
And the reassurance of my
Eternal worth
--In spite of myself--
That my meager life
Was worth dying for.
And He died
For me, and
Because of me,
That I might live for Him,
In all my days serving Him
As tool and ambassador
Of the love He had for us;
The love that gave purpose to His life
And life to His purpose.
Father, I acknowledge my
Hungering need
To bear and be borne by the
Unconditional Love of Christ,
Who unselfishly serves all those who but
Come unto Him.
As Counsellor,
Advocate
And Friend;
That neither I,
Nor any of us
Need ever be
Alone.

i fluttered by;
6:00 AM
0 comments



7.4.07

Captured on the run.

There’s nothing more liberating and refreshing than an evening run on a chilly midautumn’s day. Granted, I don’t really like running. Nor do my poor extremities who feel no end at the close of it all. But at least, the dry and cold in one’s face helps take away the mental drudgery of each step, unlike the humidity well known to Singapore.

It has always seemed to me that the mere decision to throw everything aside and ‘go out for a run’, has parallels to making a conscientious decision to leave all your preoccupations behind and take a bold step into the sun. And there, the warm wane glow awaits. What could be more rewarding?

This. And actually capturing a piece of it.

It’s my self-proclaimed winner of the week :) I title it "Cracked White Lines that Paint the Tarmac Path". Was running along the road leading to MMC, and found myself pass a construction site. The sun was setting right behind it, infatuating the sky with its marvelous tinges of pastel pink and orange. I knew I had to rush back to grab my camera, and I think I sprinted faster than I did at the end of the run, even though I was cooling down already (and you know how hard it is to get started again). I’m thankful I did though, for I was greatly contented after my phototaking escapade.



i fluttered by;
11:02 PM
0 comments



6.4.07

Look what I woke up to on Good Friday.

Yummy yummy brekkie prepared by the housemate. God has indeed blessed me with angels in my midst ;p
And after SPC-ing for the whole day, we rewarded ourselves with a sumptous dinner of cold soba, tempura prawns and miso soup with crabsticks, fish tofu and sotong! Food galore, indeed.
The primitive method I used to crush up the biscuits to make the tempura flakes. Kerf the chef, if you're reading this I think you should give this picture a miss. Your tummy will flip ;p
Ps. I think Becky's jam jar did a double take during that period too ;p

i fluttered by;
11:34 PM
0 comments


FOREWORD

You can't stop me from having a love affair with the written word.

ME

Xin Yi
5/10/1986
50 Recreation Road
To me


TAG




MINIBITES

When you learn how to die, you learn how to live.
-Tuesdays with Morrie

It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.
-Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Life is for living, she realises - but it always helps if there's an angel watching over you.
-Ps. I Love You


EXITS

Abriel Adrienne Alvin Alywin Anastasia Andrew Boonseer Caesar Catherine Ching Corinne Daryl Dominic Esther Ethan Eunice Felicia Hanloong Harold Huilin Jachin Jasmine Jeffrey Joel Joshua Kerfern Ling2 Maween Nat Rachel Raina Rebecca Sabrina Sandra Stephanie Tash Terrence Tjow Valerie Vivek Wankheong Yap Yiting Zhen 3notes
SAM online


Online Reference
Dictionary, Encyclopedia & more
Word:
Look in: Dictionary & thesaurus
Computing Dictionary
Medical Dictionary
Legal Dictionary
Financial Dictionary
Acronyms
Idioms
Wikipedia Encyclopedia
Columbia Encyclopedia
Periodicals
Literature
by:


Word of the Day
Word of the Day provided by The Free Dictionary

Article of the Day
Article of the Day provided by The Free Dictionary

In the News
In the News provided by The Free Dictionary

Quote of the Day
Quote of the Day provided by The Free Library

Spelling Bee
difficulty level:
score: -
please wait...
 
spell the word:
Spelling Bee provided by The Free Dictionary

Hangman
Hangman provided by The Free Dictionary


Add to The Free Dictionary

ARCHIVES

  • May 2005
  • June 2005
  • July 2005
  • August 2005
  • September 2005
  • October 2005
  • November 2005
  • December 2005
  • January 2006
  • February 2006
  • March 2006
  • April 2006
  • May 2006
  • June 2006
  • July 2006
  • August 2006
  • September 2006
  • October 2006
  • November 2006
  • December 2006
  • January 2007
  • February 2007
  • March 2007
  • April 2007
  • May 2007
  • June 2007
  • July 2007
  • August 2007
  • September 2007
  • October 2007
  • November 2007
  • December 2007
  • January 2008
  • February 2008
  • March 2008
  • April 2008
  • May 2008
  • June 2008
  • July 2008
  • August 2008
  • September 2008
  • October 2008
  • November 2008
  • January 2009
  • March 2009
  • April 2009
  • August 2009
  • September 2009
  • October 2009
  • December 2009
  • March 2010




  • credits

    Skin by (: outOF.tune
    Brushes: 1 2 3 4
    Images:1

    Adobe Photoshop