Edmond Rostand, Cyrano de Bergerac, Act 3:
“And what is a kiss, specifically? A pledge properly sealed, a promise seasoned to taste, a vow stamped with the immediacy of a lip, a rosy circle drawn around the verb ‘to love.’ A kiss is a message too intimate for the ear, infinity captured in the bee’s brief visit to a flower, secular communication with an aftertaste of heaven, the pulse rising from the heart to utter its name on a lover’s lip: ‘Forever.’”
Filed under Arts, Indulgent Meanderings, Things to talk about
I finally watched a live Kabuki performance this year. In none other than the premier (only?) Kabuki theatre company in Tokyo. Having been “whelmed” by Tokyo and it’s neon-soul, I was kinda hungry for a deeper connection with the culture. Watching Kabuki became the quintessential experience of Japanese culture in my 8 day trip to the land of the rising sun.
Kabuki’s recorded history goes back to the 1600s, it is considered a classical Japanese theatrical form with elements of song, dance and drama. It’s stunning costumes and makeup, intricate technical demands of the actor, and breathtaking aesthetics makes Kabuki a unique theatrical experience. It’s dramatic form and narratives are simple (although deceivingly so), which means a little explanation along the way is enough to help you navigate past the language barrier and plunge into the stories.
Filed under Arts, Out and about
…I would be the weird side-kick character whose character development ends with a whacky hook-up or situational ending “that’s so him LMFAO”.
Watching the SMC tonight to support a good friend…but it wasn’t easy finding a companion along. Luckily there will be drinks, so I can pretend to be seriously interested in my alcohol during the 20 min intermission. It’s gonna be awesome, I can feel it.
Jean’s childhood, her web of memory and unconscious memory, had once been her gift only to him. Now it had been given to another. This was the loss that overwhelmed him the most. Our memories contain more than we remember: those moments too ordinary to keep, from which, all of our lives, we drink. Of all the privileges of love, this seemed to him to be the most affecting: to witness, in another memories so deep they remain ineffable, glimpsed only by an intuition, by an illogical preference or an innocent desire, by a sorrow that arises out of seeming nothingness, an inexplicable longing.
From Anne Michael’s The Winter Vault
Filed under Arts, Indulgent Meanderings
Check out Tara Tan’s blog. There’s a lovely mix of everything I enjoy about Tara’s unique taste and what’s happening in the arts scene here in Singapore. I got to know her while she was an arts reporter…and we met when she interviewed me for the ST 30 Under 30 that I shameless put in all of my resumes. This may very well be the last year I get to use that line to open my bios with credibility 
I stole into your room last night, wanting to take back what was mine. I saw both of you. And when I woke up from that surreality, I thought (only ruminated on the poetry) how long more will I be haunted by dragons of u, disturbed by nightmares of times, nuisanced places, irritated songs. I want back what was mine, to claim it back as mine. I know the time will come when someone will fight that battle alongside of me. But for now, I have myself. And that is enough to conquer.
Filed under Uncategorized
