episode 35: Uncle and His New House (a sketch)
We got into Cousin’s car and Cousin and Dad started talking.
‘He started it again this morning. In fact, he started it yesterday morning the minute I got off my car.’
‘What happened?’ Dad asked.
‘God knows what got into him. He’s a possessed madman of some sort. I was so pissed off I told him that I am back to celebrate Chinese New year, not to get scolded. In fact, I was very tempted to leave.’
I listened to the conversation quietly. It was not my nature to talk to my relatives. Cousin continued to talk about Uncle while his daughter, Han, sat quietly beside him. She fidgeted a little because the sun was glaring through the windscreen and shining into her eyes.
‘That impossible old man – do you know how ridiculous he was? Once, someone’s Indian worker came to deliver something. He shouted at the poor Indian worker for no reason. I believe even the poor man’s boss would not have scolded him so badly. But that’s not the only ridiculous thing he did. He also scolded neighbours who refused to do business with him.’
‘Well, you know your Dad’s temper. When he’s in a bad mood, he scolds anyone without a reason.’ Dad interrupted.
‘Let me tell you what happened the other day.’ Cousin continued. ‘He and I went to a Malay kampong. Now, this is Malaysia, dammit. At least even if you want to be king, you do not do it in a Malay kampong. Guess what? He cursed and swore at a Malay chap in the Malay kampong, as if he were ready to pick a fight anytime. I say again – in a fucking Malay kampong! Those people must have thought him a crazy old man. If he were in his thirties – now you know the Malay gangsters here are far worse than those in Singapore – he would have been hospitalized or lost his life there and then. I told him if he wanted to throw such foolish tempers again, don’t do it in a Malay kampong. And above all, if he’s keen to die, go alone. Don’t bring me along.’ Cousin was apparently exasperated as he recounted Uncle’s utter foolishness.
The conversation topic shifted to the new house.
‘So is he pleased with the new house?’ Dad asked.
‘Oh, of course he’s happy and proud of it. We’ve told him to save the money and not to build it, but he insisted. I guess it is his own wish, though he keeps saying that the old neighbour has been asking him. It’s not as if we borrowed any money from our old neighbour or owe him anything. Why should he bother if our family builds a new house with my dad’s savings? Ultimately, I think it’s the old man himself. It’s his pride… … It’s a joke really, if you think about it. The old man saved every single cent he earned. What’s the big deal about building a three-hundred-thousand-dollar house, if one does not even sit at a roadside stall for coffee with a friend? If anyone had been a miser like him, anyone could have built a three-hundred-thousand-dollar house in Malaysia.’
The car turned into Sungei Renggit.
Johore had not changed the least bit since I last visited the place some eight or nine years ago. The roads were still narrow and sandy, flanked by old houses with weathered walls and rusty zinc roofs. The vehicles looked worn out and more than a decade old. Like eight or nine years ago, children were playing in the porches of the houses. Dogs barked as bicycles and motorcycles went by. Roadside stalls and peddlers were still a common sight when I thought they would have become obsolete.
***
The car turned into the car park of an unfamiliar house.
‘Welcome to our million-dollar mansion.’ Cousin said to me half-sarcastically. I got off the car and Cousin ushered me up a flight of stairs on my right. All this while, I thought we were going to put up at the old house, but I was wrong. We were going to put up at Uncle’s new house. No more creaking wooden steps that made a thumping sound. No more old well with a metal bucket. I suddenly felt a sense of loss and nostalgia.
We soon reached the second floor. The floor of the new house was tiled with marble and there was a balcony at the hall overlooking the road and houses. Forty-five degrees to our right was a true million-dollar mansion fashioned in modern architectural design. There was a rooftop dining area and a huge plasma TV (or LCD TV ) visible even from our side of the road. There was a gym and swimming pool too.
‘My dad often says that the guy across the road shouldn’t have built such an expensive house. That way, our house would seem like the finest and most expensive house along this stretch of the road.’ Cousin said. ‘Anyway, my dad would give you a more comprehensive guided tour of the house. He would put his hand on this railing and say “this is real steel”, and hopefully you’d say a word of praise or two to please him. As if any idiot would mistake it for iron or aluminum…’
I thought it was a good thing that Uncle was not in when we arrived, for I thought he would scold me for not having visited him at his place for eight or nine years.
After Auntie served drinks to Dad and myself, Cousin and I went to sit at the rooftop to chat.
‘Sigh, I could talk about that old man for three months,’ Cousin said. ‘How’s your brother?’
‘My brother? Still in Thailand.’ I answered somewhat absent-mindedly, for I was not keen to start talking about my brother.
‘Why are the two of you so different? Was he like that when he was young?’ Cousin asked.
‘Well, how shall I put it…it’s not just your dad that’s problematic. My dad’s problematic too. And my brother is what he is today largely due to my dad…’
At this point, Dad joined us at the rooftop.
‘Whoa, the house is larger than I thought. When it was still under construction, I didn’t think it would be this large.’ Dad remarked. I thought Uncle would have been pleased if Dad were to speak these very words to him.
Cousin continued to talk about Uncle.
‘You should have seen my dad when he’s looking for something. The whole family would be flustered and busy even if he were to lose something as small as a pen or nail-clipper. Once he misplaced a pen and he started to slam the cupboards and drawers in the house and started scolding everyone in the house, so we all helped him look for it. I even went to get a new one for him, but that old moron insisted that he wanted back the very same pen. That is what a miser he is. I wanted to tell him to stop being an asshole. A millionaire like Li Jiacheng would not even bother to pick up money if he indeed dropped some, for the time he would spend to pick up the money would cost him more than the money he dropped.’
I tried to imagine Uncle upsetting the whole family over a pen that might cost less than thirty cents in Singapore currency, and wondered how such people find joy and meaning in their lives. I wished I could tell Cousin that my dad was not too different from Uncle in this aspect.
‘He’s back,’ Auntie came up and announced Uncle’s return. He probably went out to get the papers.
‘Remember to wish him health and pass him the hundred-dollar ang-pow I told you to prepare,’ Dad reminded me. I was somewhat apprehensive.
***
‘Ah, Ah Ming, I see you’ve come.’ Uncle muttered.
He was old, a sixty-six year old man with thinning grey hair and a tanned lean body from decades of toil and labour. His skin was all wrinkled and dry.
‘Uncle, Happy New Year.’ I passed him the hundred-dollar ang-pow I had prepared, but he took it and just carelessly placed it near the kitchen sink. For a while, I was at a loss of what to do.
Cousin’s wife, Jingyi, was preparing lunch in the kitchen. I wanted to pick up the ang-pow and pass it to Uncle again, but Jingyi gave me a look to tell me to wait.
Uncle finished his drink and started to reprimand Jingyi.
‘In many families, sons and daughter-in-laws bring their fathers out to restaurants to dine or travel to other places, but my own son and daughter-in-law avoid me and treat me as if I were less than a dog in their eyes.’
Jingyi and I started to feel tense. Someone please come to our rescue, I thought to myself quietly.
‘Uncle, this is for you,’ I picked the red packet from the sink area and passed it to him again, hoping that perhaps money would cheer him up a little.
‘Uh…oh,’ he took a glance at it. ‘Never mind, it’s okay, you’re still young and have not started to earn money.’ He said.
‘I’m working,’ I tried to push the red packet to him.
He took it and left it on the dining table while he sat down and started to drink his coffee. At least Jingyi could now prepare the lunch in peace.
‘Sit down,’ Uncle said, as he lit a cigarette. ‘I want to talk to you.’
‘The new house is very big and nice,’ I tried to appease him.
Uncle took a puff and began his story, his eyes looking into the distance.
‘When I was twenty-four, I married your auntie. I worked very hard for this family… You know I have four children. I worked tirelessly every day, collecting junk and odds-and-ends to sell. I brought up my four children. You know the old shed where I dumped my things? Do you still remember our old house further down the road? I built two houses. Now we are here…I built this fine house too. Three houses in all. It’s not easy…’
I nodded silently.
‘I heard from your father that you are always very busy. I understand that teaching is not an easy job, but you must still have time for relatives.’
There was momentary silence. My eyes looked away from his.
‘I also heard from your father that you do not have much savings or money. You must learn to save. Of course I’m not asking you to be a miser or a slave to money. Spend on what is necessary, but save up for the future too. Do you think that I’d be able to build this house if I didn’t save?’ He looked around him with some pride and dignity as he spoke, and I remembered Cousin saying that Uncle only brought bread and plain water out with him when he worked. But of course, Uncle did not know that I had been supporting Brother.
‘Three decades…time flies…’ Uncle took another puff. ‘If this house had been built in Singapore it would have been worth millions.’ He wouldn’t be able to afford a house like this in Singapore, I thought. That amount of money would probably amount to a tiny condominium in Singapore at most.
‘I might not be very educated, but there are many people who respect me,’ he said. I thought he just complained that his own son and daughter-in-law treated him like a dog. ‘That old neighbour of mine – he did not even invite me to his son’s wedding. Why, does he think he can match me in terms of wealth, or in terms of capabilities and intelligence? I am part of the committee of a Chinese school here. I know about politics and education very well…’
I had to agree that Uncle is better versed in politics than I am. He reminded me of those uncles sitting in kopi-tiams complaining about the PAP policies and cursing Old Lee. I would very much prefer to live in my own little world of books and pictures and be ignorant of these things, though many might call me apathetic.
‘Respect,’ Uncle continued with great deliberateness. ‘You are a Chinese, you are educated, and you are already a teacher. How can you not find time to visit an uncle? No matter what, I’m still your father’s elder brother. How can you teach your students if you cannot even live by such a simple principle? … … Respect… I am not a dog. Neither am I invisible or dead. I may be uneducated, but I brought up four children and built this house. It is not easy. I wonder why so many people are avoiding me as if I were a dog…’
‘Well, if you stop barking around at everyone as if you were one, you would have a lot more people around you,’ I thought to myself, but I said nothing.
***
‘Lunch is ready…’ Jingyi announced as she laid out the dishes on the table. Cousin Sen (whom I have addressed simply as Cousin up to this point) came into the kitchen with little Han-girl.
‘Grandpa, eat,’ little Han called and Uncle looked at her and smiled. Little Han was very adorable and pretty. She was merely two years old, and I would dare say that of all the children I had known, she was the only child cuter than my brother’s daughter Serene. She would be our saviour angel to keep the family peaceful for the next few days, I thought.
‘Whoa, you are so pretty,’ Dad said to little Han. Then he turned to Jingyi and said, ‘You are becoming the mother of a celebrity!’
‘Ming, you are only eating the vegetables,’ Jingyi noticed.
‘Oh, I heard from your father that you are not eating fish or meat or chicken, or even eggs. What are we going to cook for you?’ Auntie asked.
‘Huh? You do not eat so many things? Is it true?’ Uncle looked at me. ‘You cannot not eat so many things. In fact, you must eat a little of everything so that you have a balanced diet.’
The atmosphere got a little tense, and I decided I should just stop my vegetarian diet for two or three days to avoid a confrontation or conflict of any sort.
‘Just ignore him and make him eat,’ Dad said.
I said nothing and took some fish quietly. I decided that the next best thing to do was to finish my meal and leave the table quickly, but that would be very rude.
‘Aiyah, even though I’m a Buddhist, I do not observe such a strict diet as you do,’ Auntie sort of lamented.
It was useless to explain anything to these people. Nevertheless, unlike Uncle, Auntie was someone whom I greatly respected.
‘Try these too,’ Jingyi passed me some scallops. ‘This is my best dish.’
‘Yeah yeah,’ Cousin Sen sneered. ‘Four years ago it was this dish. Four years later it’s still the same dish. But I have to admit you’ve not lost the touch.’ Cousin then turned and smiled at his wife.
At that moment, I suddenly thought about how difficult life was for the women who were married into our family. So Jingyi had been preparing New Year dishes for many years now. She would probably help Auntie wash the dishes later too. I was extremely thankful that I was neither married nor attached. And Auntie… how difficult it must had been on her, to live with my uncle all these years and to help bring up the four children. Jingyi was more fortunate because Cousin Sen was at least a decent and reasonable man. I suddenly felt very sorry for the women, and I hated my very own family and surname.
‘The fish doesn’t taste good,’ Uncle’s face twisted into a scowl and laid down his chopsticks. ‘The sea cucumber isn’t very fresh too.’
‘Ma, you shouldn’t buy things for the sake of buying,’ said Cousin Sen. ‘I know things are hard to find and they are costly around this time, but if you know that the things are not fresh, do not buy them for the sake of buying them. We can settle for a simple meal.’ Cousin Sen spoke truth in a cool rational manner, paying no regard to what Uncle said earlier.
I understood Auntie’s position very well. After all, Chinese New Year is nothing more than going through the motion for unhappy families. You buy New Year goodies because everyone else does the same, not because you like or enjoy them. You put up New Year decorations even though your family has three quarrels or more on the same day. You give and collect ang pows because the Chinese had been doing so for thousands of years. Everything has nothing to do with joy or meaning.
My heart bled and ached a lot over that simple lunch. I felt very sorry for Auntie.
***
It was a hot sultry afternoon after lunch. I stayed quietly in my room, reading Natsume Soseki’s ‘Grass On The Wayside’. All the bedrooms in the house had air-conditioners, but being a person who was used to the tropical heat and climate I only switched on the ceiling fan. The bedroom window overlooked a dense patchwork of rusty zinc rooftops, and one could see trees and the sea in the distance. As I read, I thought that Soseki’s ‘Grass On The Wayside’ could be interpreted as a study of an unimportant or insignificant life.
‘Uncle…’ Little Han stumbled into my room and looked at me with her big eyes. What a pretty and innocent child!
‘Where’s Daddy and Mummy?’ I asked her in a gentle voice.
‘Mummy’s in the kitchen…Daddy is outside…’ the clever girl replied innocently. ‘Let me read…’ she started to be curious about the novel I was holding in my hands.
‘You won’t understand this, foolish girl.’ I put the novel aside and took out a pen and an exercise book. ‘Come, Uncle will teach you how to draw.’ I turned to a blank page and drew a star for her. ‘Look, this is a star.’
Little Han then took the exercise book and pen from me, but she could not draw. In fact, all she could do was make faint marks in the form of short lines or dots on the page. She could not even draw a one-centimetre line. I was reminded of the days when my niece was staying with me, when I also taught her how to draw. Serene was already four when she stayed with us. Little Han was only two years old, so she could not hold the pen very well. I stroke her hair gently as I watched her attempt to make marks on the page.
‘Don’t play with my hair…’ little Han whined as she fiddled with the pen.
‘Okay, okay, Uncle will stop playing with your hair.’ Foolish girl! I stroke your hair because I was showing you affection!
***
I slept for two hours after little Han left the room. There was nothing else to do. The font size of the novel was a bit small. Cousin Sen had some VCDs of horror movies, but I thought it was inappropriate to watch them on Chinese New Year. I could not draw when my mind was not at ease. The only thing left to do was to sleep.
When I woke up, Dad had just taken his shower. It was around five plus in the evening. ‘Go and have your shower. Dinner is almost ready.’
episode 34
Wow...my barest soul is at episode 34.
Misery loves company. As I think about going back to Johore, the song that plays in my mind is Miki Imai's 'I Miss You', with 'you' referring to no one in particular. I miss my students (especially those who love my English or Art lessons, or those who loved X Japan or cried while watching 'Grave of the Fireflies'...)...I miss my friends, my teachers (esp. Dr Ho) and my colleagues...I look forward to teaching art soon...Well, this too will pass, in three or four days.
When I was young, I never needed anyone ...(lyrics from 'All by myself')...
When I was young, romantic love was everything... (my own)
(sidetrack: And I thought young Ranker could look as cool as old Elton John)
I miss Miki Imai's 'I Miss You'...
When I was young, romantic love was everything. Now, life is everything, while everything is nothing. Art and nature is everything.
And perhaps, I may get Skeeter Davis's CD when I come back, but I'm presently broke now. And I hope this will pass too.
Happy Chinese New Year to all.
(This time, I'm really going back to Johore to see my uncle and his new house, after eight years of absence and excuses. The problem is I actually saw him a year or two back, when Serene was here and he came to Singapore for a while, but he insists that I should see his new house. Apparently, the new house is such an important lifelong achievement to him, that in the words of my cousin [his daughter], 'If he didn't build the house, he would never rest in peace if he should die'. )
episode 33
Some stuff:
I want to look good for a day. I don't know why, but I passed by an Esprit boutique just now and saw some nice stuff for guys there. I thought it'd be great to let my students know that I have some fashion sense besides the stuff dictated to me by the school/ministry and my dad. I really miss t-shirt and jeans...I need new specs, a new hairdo, some acccessories, nice tee and jeans..whatever. That's the vain me..
I am getting along *okay* with my classes.
My thoughts are very disorganised now...will be back...
episode 32
Looking back at the past... my railway, my drains, my trees...even before the times when I truly understood what solitude is...
Why do these things still matter? I do not know.
I need a break and rest. I need to draw.
episode 31
Joy and sadness. Falling in and out of love. Good and bad art. Books and music. Philosophy and religion. I have seen it all and been through it all. But if you think that is the end of creativity and life, you are wrong.
The great Hokusai said this in his autobiography (written in 1835, at 75 years old):
From the age of six, I was in the habit of drawing all kinds of things. Although I had produced numerous designs by my fiftieth year, none of my works done before my seventieth is really worth counting. At the age of seventy-three I have come to understand the true form of animals, insects and fish and the nature of plants and trees. Consequently, by the age of eighty-six I will have made more and more progress, and ninety I will have got closer to THE ESSENCE OF ART. At the age of one hundred I will have reached a magnificent level and at one hundred and ten EACH DOT AND EACH LINE WILL BE ALIVE. I would like to ask those who outlive me to observe that I have not spoken without reason. '
episode 30
Lately:
I did some sketches. The book on Van Gogh drawings has arrived and I have collected it. It is good.
I'm also reading Indian literature, Malaysian literature, as well as the Holy Koran (though I haven't gone very far for the Koran).
I know it's not very good of a teacher to do this, but lately I use art lessons to do my drawings. I believe after three weeks with me, I can leave my students on their own for challenging drawing tasks, so I use the time to do my own personal drawings and sketches.
I am very busy. Forgive me if I haven't contacted you, you, you, you and you...anyone or all of you....Students are half my life now. And of course, my other half, my love, art.
episode 29: Reply
My teacher's reply:
You've never changed! Just as angst ridden as ever...sometimes I do wonder if it is all necessary to play out the romantic notion of the tortured,tormented artist. If I have taught you anything, it is that sometimes we needn't really bother too much. Idon't mean not bother about art (with a small 'a')which is intrinsically tied to our being...couldn't shake it off even if we wanted to. Don't bother about Art with all its isms, philosophies and trends. There is wisdom sometimes in being stupid about these things. I gave all that up long ago...which is why I never bother with the art circle. Its navel gazing if you ask me! What we do is simply to put our experiences on paper, as honestly and sincerely as we can. Nothing more, nothing less.The reason I asked you to go upscale is to allow yourself, as you put it to look at the same things from different perspective. The challenge of size sometimes opens up new visions and ways of operation that help reveal something new. It gives the viewer a different sensation and experience which is all we are trying to do really...giving the viewer that experience that only art can give. If we are really really good, we might even give the experience of what many call beauty. But no need to be plagued by it...take your time with it. It is far more important that you enjoy what it is you are doing. And abstraction...forget it! Georgette Chen never went abstract and remained the master that she was...Ng EngTeng tried that...and what a mess he made of it(remember the monstrousity outside the SAM Museum?...but I'm being unkind....he was a great artist and a wonderful, generous and kind man)Its good for me that some of my students have become teachers themselves and continuing the good work in our schools. My time is passed and you guys mustcontinue the evolution of art education for ourcountry. I just came back from NZ visiting my old art teacher and I told him that so much of what I am as a teacher I learnt through him. We talked about TylerPrint and how is it that a premier institution likethat could exhibit works of such poor technical and aesthetic quality. My teacher Barry taught me about quality...what it is to do things well. Like I've always said, if something is worth doing, its worth doing well. I'm grateful that you thought well of the education you have received from me. Its your job nowto transmit that love to your students. About that exhibition with you...I think you will have to wait a long while. I never thought much of whatI've made. I'm proud of very few of my works actually.Art used to play a big part in my life...its role is somewhat diminishing these days...I rather enjoyfatherhood more. But art never leaves you, like an old friend you haven't visited for a long time,encountering art again is always pleasant and stimulating. I visit art once in a while now and for whatever time we had together, the conversations were always polite and cordial. No big overtures or statements, just enjoying the way lines walk on thepages and how they leave behind the instant, the moment, the sensation.I'm still serious about the CNY visit and the showing and critique...better yet, let me pick one of yourdrawings for my wall...I still need works on the wall.
episode 28: exchanges between teacher and student
I received an email from my art teacher, and thought I might as well send him a link to my drawings...this is what he replied:
Its good to know that you are still continuing with your art. These are a set of very sincere andwell-choreographed drawings. I like the windowseries...they have a power of their own. The question now is what next? I suggest you go upscale and do really large drawings and see how you like them. YunNong is organising a CNY visit to my home...get the drawings ready for viewing and critique.This is my reply:
Hi sir,
Not sure how you read into sincerity, but thanks for the compliment. Those drawings are actually done over a period of 2.5 to 3 years. 90% or more of the drawings are actually done plein-air, so I would really still love to work with Nature and study for much longer before I learn to 'create'. (And of course, you know how busy teachers are with today's new challenges and changes in education...) Also, you'd realise that I do not really have a 'theme' or 'message' rather than perhaps aesthetics itself...so I'm not sure if I have the kind of patience and focus to work on just ONE drawing to orchestrate/crystallise what I have learnt and what I want to say (if anything at all) at this stage.
Just a personal note on sharing...I had been very diligent in my study and learning of art all these years after the VS days, from army to uni to NIE till today, but the more I learn, the more confused and ignorant and stupid I find myself becoming, especially with all the Postmodern art and theories...the more I know, the more I do not know. The more I learn, the more I have to unlearn and re-learn...I am constantly trying to look at the same thing through different perspectives and trying to make sense of meaning which constantly changes...At the end of the day, I learnt to look inside instead of outside, to seek myself and my meaning from within instead of without...which is why I stopped asking questions at some point in time and just follow my intuition and feelings, to do what I enjoy doing, to go back to basics and fundamentals while trying to arrive at a language of my own (sorry, but I think I'm beginning to sound confusing and lose myself)...
In all honesty, while I like some of my own drawings and know their merits and shortcomings, I do not think very much of them or of myself. I know there is still an infinitely long way to go, infinite possibilities to explore (which make the question of 'what next' very difficult to answer)....and many unexplored terrains to venture into...
If I have an answer to 'what next', I can only answer with 'further study and exploration of drawing and nature' for now, which I guess is very vague. I have always understood and known your intentions of encouraging me to upscale and perhaps to 'create' (i.e. to draw without seeing or reference)...or even to venture into abstraction (which has always created a lot of philosophical debates....like what is abstract? why do non-representational art etc.) .....but at this stage, I guess I'm not ready for such challenges yet...
Another note on my drawings...well, they are just documentation of experiences...of my walks in Nature...so that drawing becomes a process just like the process of walking and the process of life...there is no fixed 'solution' or 'answer' or ' central message/moral' of some sort as yet...I treat them like sketches, or diaries...
I actually wrote quite a bit on art (see attached docs if you have time)* I sent him my writings on art
I really thank you for everything you've taught me. I hope that one day, I can exhibit my work next to yours, for you have been a most worthy mentor.
I really thank you for your time as well.
With deepest gratitude,
(my name)
P.S. Some of the attached writings were written some time ago, so they might not make very much sense...but nevertheless, they're part of my learning process..I also sent him this:
This is something I wrote:
Up to today, I can confidently proclaim that I have experimented with many different art forms, read many books, seen many exhibitions, kept (and thrown away) many sketchbooks, written many things, listened to much music, and other been-there-done-thats, but good art remains elusive. It is as if one is trying to grasp falling water with one's hands. The more I know, the more I do not know. The more knowledge I acquire, the more confused and stupid I become. The more I learn, the more I have to unlearn. The more I had achieved, the harder it is to become better. I feel more stupid than when I started art ten years ago.Patiently waiting for his reply.
episode 27
Nothing eventful happened today. I read short stories by R. K. Narayan (whom I thought to be very good) and bought a CD by the late Zhang Yusheng. I also bought a Penny Dai CD through Yahoo auctions.
Life seems dry...barren...sterile...flat...
episode 26 (nothing)
1) X Japan
I introduced my classes to X Japan. Their responses are here:
http://www.guestbook-paradise.de/gb.php3?id=96302) Mobilisation
The only good thing about mobilisation is I get to see my army-mate Guoquan. Anyhow, the story goes like this...I told me that now that we are all busy with teaching, the only chance of us ever catching up is when we are wearing green, so instead of returning home after mobilisation, I went to the coffee shop at his place and we had a good chat. Part of the conversation goes like this:
Me: There's no good Chinese music nowadays...the only decent people seem like Fish Leong, Jay Chou and SHE, who are not exactly terrific...even Stephanie Sun is going downhill.
Guoquan: You sound like my mum...she's always saying that the music nowadays is not really music...perhaps you are lagging behind the times?
Me (thinking silently in my mind): Again? The last time I had a conversation with him, he said I could not appreciate Faye Wong's music because I've not caught up with the times...now it applies not just to Faye Wong, but Chinese pop/music in general...Am I really living in the past? In the recent month, I spent close to $200 buying old CDs I've lost. Wang Jie. Cai Qin. Xu Meijing. Kit Chan... Even X Japan... Is progress really linear? Why can't I progress in life by re-examining things of the past?
Anyhow, we shared a bit on money management, and of course on teaching as well as recalling some army stuff.
3. Art
I'm just happy to annouce (or even know in my heart)...that in my mind, I have a direction for art. Never mind if it is wrong...at least I know what I want to do, how I want to go about doing things...and I have a direction.
4. Patience
Is of the essence. Enough said.
episode 25
Patience and surrender. I have learnt to wait patiently for the rainy season to be over. I have learnt to wait for all bad things to come to pass. I have learnt to wait for January and the New Year to be over. I have learnt to wait for a time to draw while work continues to last. I have learnt to accept not-knowing-the-answer as the answer. I have learnt to be grateful for each moment of rest and each mouthful of water. In short, I have learnt to surrender, to life.
There really is a time for everything. And I learn to wait, while savouring what I can.
A few years back, one of my favourite love songs is 'End of the World' by Skeeter Davis. I love singing the song alone.
Today, I bought two books on Indian writing. The stories, context, and even values seem to be outdated and old-fashioned, but for reasons unknown I love them all the same. Myabe I am becoming what they call 'old school'.
I was looking at many books at Kinokuniya yesterday. There were many good books on drawing, and I was about to buy them all, when a voice inside me told me to look inside instead of look outside, to look within instead of look without. It is a dangerous thing to look at other people's art, because ultimately one must find one's own voice.
I have learnt to accept each failure, whether a bad classroom session or a bad drawing, as a stepping stone to better things to come.
I have learnt to sleep and rest at peace, without any care.
If it should rain, let it rain, If it should shine, let it shine. I shall just watch and wait.
episode 24
Grandma's funeral (con'td)
***
The day of the funeral was the most depressing of all. The coffin was being driven in a casket van. The floats, adorned with garish banners and splashed with garlands, paraded in their glorious beauty while trailing quietly behind. The music troupe made a cacophonous din with their noisy trumpets and their clamorous gongs and cymbals. All this while, a radio replayed the monotonous chant of ‘Namu-Amida-Butsu’ over and over.
... ...
episode 23
A sketch edition: For three days we cannot see the sun...
***
For three days we cannot see the sun. I dreamt about drawing last night. This morning, I had a quiet vegeterian breakfast with Mum at Whampoa market (not forgetting our kopi-o). The area around my place is actually very beautiful, and I thought I would not mind drawing some of the things I see around Whampoa.
I feel a strong desire to look at Turner and Constable, as well as Goya and Degas. While these artists seem passe by today's standards, I feel a need to re-examine these artists for their thought and technique, especially their mature works. After all, I am only beginning.
I want to leave behind a good number of drawings and sketches. I was telling Liang Zhu that the issue of Modern Drawing is an interesting one -- something that needs to be questioned and examined. The last few interesting drawers are Giacommeti, Clemente, Brice Marden, Joseph Bueys, Twombly, and perhaps Guston.
... For three days, we cannot see the sun. My struggle between representational and abstract art should have been solved long ago, and the solution is this: the artist should simply follow himself. One's art should not follow the linear path of art history (i.e. from the representational to the abstract).
(and I might want to talk about poetry later...)
For three days we cannot see the sun. The monsoon wind brought over the moisture-laden clouds, which brought in the monsoon rain. Tingting said that in London, it is all grey, but the raindrops are finer. We cannot see the sun. Mum did the laundry in the dark bathroom. The auntie at the market said she had to iron her clothes, because they could not dry in this weather. call it age-old wisdom or common sense, but this is useful practical knowledge.
... ...
For three days we cannot see the sun. The sky is all grey. Thins sheets of rain pour ceaselessly, flooding the roads and streets as cars and wet feet came and went, but the rain does not stop. There is nothing to see outside the window but rain. Everything is washed over with a whitish-grey. The sun is hidden; the sun does not shine. Inside, there is the quiet gloom of the room.
... ...
episode 22: old quotes
'An artist is forced to be isolated...' (66-year-old woman)
'Experimentation at the cost of learning, for the sake of career advancement, is my criticism of younger artists. From what I see and hear, younger artists seem to carry a pathological reticcence to emulate anyone who was considered great over 30 years ago. Their goals seem to be innovation and making money. Fools!' (66-year-old man)
'Younger artists, on the whole, are more daring and hurried. They want to attain recognition and wealth while still young. Older artists know the ways of the art world, and know if they achieve recognition, it will interfere with their more profound feelings and they will not be able to develop to full maturity slowly and surely. ' (reported by an 83-year-old man)
'With years a richer life begins,
The spirit mellows,
Ripe age gives tone to violins,
Wine, and good fellows.'
(John Townsend Trowbridge, 'Three Worlds')
'There is not, I think, a single example of a great painter -- or sculptor -- whose work has not gained in profundity and originality as he grew older. Bellini, Michelangelo, Titian, Tintoretto, Poussin, Rembrandt, Goya, Turner, Degas, Cezanne, Monet, Matisse, Braque, all produced some of their greatest works when they were over sixty-five. It is as though a lifetime is needed to master the medium, and only when mastery has been achieved can an artist simply be himself, revealing the true nature of his imagination.' (John Berger, Success and Failure of Picasso)
'For the past eight years, I have started each day in the same manner. It is not a mechanical routine but something essential to my daily life. I go to the piano, and I play two preludes and fugues of Bach. I cannot think of doing otherwise. It is a sort of benediction on the house. But that is not its only meaning to me. It is a rediscovery of the world of which I have the joy of being a part. It fills me with awareness of teh wonders of life, and a feeling of the incredible marvel of being a human being.' (Pablo Casals, 'Joy and Sorrows', written at age 93)
'No wise man ever wished to be younger' (Swift, Thoughts on Various Subjects)
'The dry branch burns more fiercely than the green.' (Elder Olsen, written in his mid-70s)
episode 21
Perhaps, I must still 'take life easy, as the leaves grow on the trees'. I am not a single leaf yet. I'm not yet a single blade of grass. I have not yet become.
episode 20
I am in the process of learning to be patient.
I'm not sure if I should call my current state 'acceptance' or 'resignation'.
But I wait. I hope. And I believe.
I look back at old things, listen to old songs, collect old CDs...
What is there to chase after? Lost things.
What is there to wait for? Dreams to materialise.
There are too many promises, too little space...and I want to watch everything with my very own eyes.
And so, weary eyes speak of rainswept days
Though the light has not dimmed in my eyes
While pain and suffering is written
All across my face.
episode 19
Some time back, a friend of mine told me that he visited the Van Gogh Museum, and, in his own words, 'I merely made a brief tour around it and finished viewing the exhibits somewhat hastily. Nothing spectacular about it.' Of such a person, I can only say, 'he has eyes, but does not see'.
I am flipping through my copy of 'Van Gogh, The Complete Paintings', but I'm looking at the drawings and sketches rather than his famous (and not-so-famous) paintings. What a fantastic draughtsman Van Gogh is! His drawings bustle with a kind of life and energy that is not found in the works of the Romantics. In fact, one only needs to seriously study less than ten of hhis drawings, and one can already conclude that this artist is assuredly philosophic and wise. I find his drawings very life-affirming.
Before I realise it, I have been drawing for three years, and I'm both ashamed and alarmed that I have not made much progress. I am thinking of ordering some really costly books on Van Gogh's drawings from Amazon to study, to let the drawings talk and whisper to me. (In fact, I've already told Tingting to help me place an order at Borders.) I also admire Kathe Kollwitz a lot besides Van Gogh. When one studies, one must be disciplined. One must be rigorous. One must be deeply engaged. In short, one must delve into the deep.
episode 18
Beautiful sadness and silence.
Ah, life.
If I should be silent, if I should go away...
Life has seldom been this beautiful.
