This slumber's been long and sweet
Tucked in a blanket of great cowardice
I am just a dreamer behind these linen sheets
Sleep's like opium to my weary bones
Seemingly a mute medicine, a cure
That quietly numbs my senses' moans
In oblivion I taste the honey-heavy dew* of rest
Unaware that in the stillness of my being
I decay and digress
This slumber's been long and sweet
Pressed against a mattress of the mundane
I am just a dreamer whose visions are vain
Please rub the sleep off my eyes
Awaken me to the love which death, it defied
Move my lethargic soul
Make it tremble
Hurl it to a worthy goal
Shake off an accustomed stupor
Stir up my heart
For what it's beating for
Interrupt this aimless dreaming
Greet me with the rousing heat of the sun
Like a new summer morning
*William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
Monday, June 27, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
Top Ten Reasons Why I Want to Be Like Her.
Aside from the obvious, glaring fact that she's beautiful within and without - everybody already knows that about her - these are my personal reasons why Mummy Ana, my friend and spiritual mentor, is one of the few women I look up to...
1. Because she is teachable and unassuming
2. Because she listens and remembers
3. Because she is smart for her age! haha
4. Because she taught me how to cook baked mussels
5. Because I can call her in the middle of the night just to whine about my ex
6. Because she always asks about my love life *giggles*
7. Because she knows how to have fun
8. Because she gives me the kind of trinkets I'd wear ;-)
9. Because her love for God is infectious
10. Because she still appreciates the little, simple things in life.
4. Because she taught me how to cook baked mussels
5. Because I can call her in the middle of the night just to whine about my ex
6. Because she always asks about my love life *giggles*
7. Because she knows how to have fun
8. Because she gives me the kind of trinkets I'd wear ;-)
9. Because her love for God is infectious
10. Because she still appreciates the little, simple things in life.
Happy birthday, Mummy A!
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Top 7 Reasons Why I Prefer a Printed Book Over an eBook
I WORK in a publishing firm, and although I've seen how the e-book business has grown exponentially over the last two years, I still carry with me those bulky, often rectangular-shaped objects made of paper that contain words arranged by a typesetting machine and produced by a printing press. This is just in case some of you may have forgotten how a printed book looks like : p
In this day and age when information come in as fast as you say the word fast and as cheap as my favorite perfume (Green Cross Rubbing Alcohol), more and more people are patronizing anything that's electronic. I'd say if it will save your money and time, go for it. But not with books. Here are my personal reasons for being [print] bookish -
1. I just love making dog-ear marks on all my books. (Although with the more expensive ones, I often use a bookmark). Yes you can flip a page and bookmark it digitally but folding a pixel-made up page is useless and not fun.
2. Reading an e-book using your mobile phone or ipad is distracting. Especially when you have push notifications.
3. Information retention becomes shallow when I read electronically. Observe it yourself. I guess this is because we tend to just skim through the page if it's online or cradled by a gadget instead of to really pore over the text. In my case, (because I'm a girl) my brain is struggling to compartmentalize information. I tend to associate my laptop or iphone with trivial stuff. I don't know, but I just can't focus on a novel or take Bible verses seriously if I'm reading them in a gadget I play Angry Birds with. You with me?
4. Printed books are showcase-worthy. True, Shelfari does this function but nothing beats having physical bookshelves with pretentious titles only your dad would read for house guests to look at. Plus, when electric power runs out, you can read with a candle.
5. You know how it is during college - my friends and I would borrow thick textbooks from the library and walk the corridors with our arms wrapped around them and wait for some guy to help us carry them. They make chivalrous men. But seriously, printed books may be old-fashioned but they help shape a (academic) culture. Just recall how many people from the library you need to befriend, my fellow LaSallians out there ;-)
6. Back when I was a frosh, we were taught the art of annotation. The professor would ask us to underline or highlight the portion of the text where an author's main point and a novel's theme lie. I was trained how to write commentary notes and critical analyses of the book, an exercise that is neglected with an e-reader. Today, when we encounter a certain passage that is too good not to share with our friends, all we need to do is type Ctrl + C and Ctrl + V. We usually don't bother paraphrasing a quote with our own words, hence, a thought process is eliminated.
7. From an author's perspective, a printed book is like a newborn child or a creative masterpiece or a dish he/she has finally perfected cooking. It's similar to an artist releasing an album or a record instead of selling 99-cent mp3s. Tied in with number 4, this particular quality of a printed book provides the writer a physical trophy that won't be easily copied or be lost in (cyber)space.
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| Photo by www.blog.designsquish.com |
In this day and age when information come in as fast as you say the word fast and as cheap as my favorite perfume (Green Cross Rubbing Alcohol), more and more people are patronizing anything that's electronic. I'd say if it will save your money and time, go for it. But not with books. Here are my personal reasons for being [print] bookish -
1. I just love making dog-ear marks on all my books. (Although with the more expensive ones, I often use a bookmark). Yes you can flip a page and bookmark it digitally but folding a pixel-made up page is useless and not fun.
2. Reading an e-book using your mobile phone or ipad is distracting. Especially when you have push notifications.
3. Information retention becomes shallow when I read electronically. Observe it yourself. I guess this is because we tend to just skim through the page if it's online or cradled by a gadget instead of to really pore over the text. In my case, (because I'm a girl) my brain is struggling to compartmentalize information. I tend to associate my laptop or iphone with trivial stuff. I don't know, but I just can't focus on a novel or take Bible verses seriously if I'm reading them in a gadget I play Angry Birds with. You with me?
4. Printed books are showcase-worthy. True, Shelfari does this function but nothing beats having physical bookshelves with pretentious titles only your dad would read for house guests to look at. Plus, when electric power runs out, you can read with a candle.
5. You know how it is during college - my friends and I would borrow thick textbooks from the library and walk the corridors with our arms wrapped around them and wait for some guy to help us carry them. They make chivalrous men. But seriously, printed books may be old-fashioned but they help shape a (academic) culture. Just recall how many people from the library you need to befriend, my fellow LaSallians out there ;-)
6. Back when I was a frosh, we were taught the art of annotation. The professor would ask us to underline or highlight the portion of the text where an author's main point and a novel's theme lie. I was trained how to write commentary notes and critical analyses of the book, an exercise that is neglected with an e-reader. Today, when we encounter a certain passage that is too good not to share with our friends, all we need to do is type Ctrl + C and Ctrl + V. We usually don't bother paraphrasing a quote with our own words, hence, a thought process is eliminated.
7. From an author's perspective, a printed book is like a newborn child or a creative masterpiece or a dish he/she has finally perfected cooking. It's similar to an artist releasing an album or a record instead of selling 99-cent mp3s. Tied in with number 4, this particular quality of a printed book provides the writer a physical trophy that won't be easily copied or be lost in (cyber)space.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Three Takeoffs in a 4-Hour Delayed Flight and other Balinese-themed (Mis)Adventures
At this point, we were already restless because this same flight had already been delayed for four hours and nobody from Jetstar informed either one of us (the four of us were holding two separate booking references) prior to the original 4pm flight. We talked to the counter/ground staff but they said that they just learned about the new timing and we should call the Melbourne office to complain. After an hour of holding the customer service phone line, a certain Kish (who said that it is company policy not to give her full name) told me that they were also not aware of this until then, when I asked them to go into the system and check the re-timed flight details. She even said, "If I were you, I would talk to the ground representatives about this..." Huh?
Fast forward to the failed takeoff incident... The captain then called a couple of engineers to look into the problem. They asked us to alight the aircraft so they could perform tests. Several minutes later we were back on our seats and ready to experience another takeoff. The passengers who I reckoned were mostly Aussies did not even utter an unpleasant word. Time check: 12 AM.
We circled the runway for what seemed to be a dozen times and just when my eyelids were starting to droop, I sensed that we were about to ascend again. WHIZZ......WHIR.......YANK....THUD! Ding dong...This is your captain speaking. We are having the same technical problem that was supposed to be fixed by the engineers but still isn't and here we are back on the bar....
And we never heard him speak again. Twenty minutes later one passenger carrying a kid said, "You're crazy to stay here, guys." He left the plane shouting, "It's okay if you don't want to spend a penny on our hotel." Time check: 2AM.
We later found out that it was still safe to fly even with the generator blinking an error signal. But because our pilot needed to abide by the airplane protocol, he had to hold back. More than 20 of the total passengers left. A few were bombarding the pilots and crew with questions. I myself was not at my nicest that night. They left us uninformed for 30 minutes. The pilots were inside the cockpit without updating the passengers and without any effort to ease us up. The cabin crew gave us....water. Nothing else.
Jetstar pilots and crew could have handled the situation better but did not.
Nevertheless, we stayed for the third takeoff because:
1. Murphy's law is not valid. Come on, our flight was only delayed for four hours, and we only had three takeoffs. They are pretty normal, ok.
2. The captain assured us that it was still safe for the third time and if it wasn't, he would not risk his own life, too. He has a family. Plus, it appeared to me that he was pretty calm that night. He's just not a good communicator.
3. It's our first time to go to Bali aka Surfer's Paradise. Need I say more?
4. I personally believe that in this life, nothing will happen to us apart from God's will. And according to Izanne, if God was forbidding us to go to Bali, He should have let Jetstar cancel the flight in the first place. Made sense to me, too :-)
So in the end, a three-hour flight turned out to be an eight-hour one. But we were ready to have fun in this beautiful place. Nothing else could go wrong anymore. Or so we thought....
(mis)adventure stories to be continued...
P.S. What about you guys? What would you do in this situation? Would you still go for a third one?
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Creativity from the Church
Disclaimer: I'm not one who is expert on both Cs. This post only contains a few personal realizations.
THERE is a colloquial term coined in the 1800s that comes to mind as I begin to write this post - Sunday best. For the longest time, we may have carried the notion that being a part of a church requires a 'member' to be in his/her finest, within and without - appearing in wrinkle-free clothes, taut collar, polished shoes and an invisible halo to boot. The people worship God by singing hymns in unison with nasal voices and raised hands as part of the 'holy requirement'. They listen to the preacher speak about God's Word just to gain some sense of spirituality, a concept that is seemingly irrelevant to their activities on the rest of the days of the week. Some of us may have even felt that the the church is constricting, if not something worthy of a yawn (or two or three). The church could not possibly have room for the unruly, the liberals, or have space for individuality or creativity. After all, it is a place of order and rhythmical customs (read: bore).
So how does one who is as cool as an ice cube and too slick to follow the 'holy requirements' stated above fit in? A confession is probably due to be able to bring enough flesh into this blog entry. Well you see, I used to believe I'm cool, too. I listen to cool music, I hang out with cool people, and I think cool thoughts (?!). I go to church to satisfy an obligation and keep the other aspects of my life reserved to maintain this state of coolness. But as I became more and more attracted to Christianity, I found out, without dismay, that I'm not reallythat cool at all.
Like a train running on a single track, my mind is used to the idea that worshiping God only entails prayer and harp-playing. Okay, maybe add the xylophone, tambourine, and those instruments we would never ever hear in a Justin Bieber song. But recently, our church has started to teach us that worship is a lifestyle. The output of all our endeavors based on our skills, talents and profession must be utilized according to the purpose of the One who has given them.
But it took some time for me to reconcile with the idea that creative arts can be used for worship too. For me, it means breaking all the rules; it is almost vulgar to do so, and un-holy to say the least. But then as I observe the works of the Master Artist in nature and in people, I couldn't help but blush. The result of our ingenuity is only a by-product of our encounter with nature. All that our hands can make or our minds can conceive are mere consequences of our being brought out into existence by our Creator.
These realizations have started to influence how and why I should do things. Worship is way more than singing songs on a Sunday morning, and the church is not just a place for confession, communion and prayer. It should be a place where talents are being harnessed and where creative minds converge. I realize that I am actually worshiping with this blog, being grateful to Him who has given me the ability to articulate my thoughts through written words. I now go to church looking forward to a release of even just a tinge of God's creativity on me, expecting that this is the best I could get on a Sunday to be used for the remaining six days of the week. ;-)
Click this LINK to have a preview of what other artists are doing in our church.
Threads of fabric being woven
Lives interlaced, overlapping
Not by mere randomness
Our purposes in transcendence
Like gradients of hues painted in the heavens
It can't be noticed where one begins and where one ends
Linked with a perfect love the whole world has not yet known
We have each other; we're never alone.
THERE is a colloquial term coined in the 1800s that comes to mind as I begin to write this post - Sunday best. For the longest time, we may have carried the notion that being a part of a church requires a 'member' to be in his/her finest, within and without - appearing in wrinkle-free clothes, taut collar, polished shoes and an invisible halo to boot. The people worship God by singing hymns in unison with nasal voices and raised hands as part of the 'holy requirement'. They listen to the preacher speak about God's Word just to gain some sense of spirituality, a concept that is seemingly irrelevant to their activities on the rest of the days of the week. Some of us may have even felt that the the church is constricting, if not something worthy of a yawn (or two or three). The church could not possibly have room for the unruly, the liberals, or have space for individuality or creativity. After all, it is a place of order and rhythmical customs (read: bore).
So how does one who is as cool as an ice cube and too slick to follow the 'holy requirements' stated above fit in? A confession is probably due to be able to bring enough flesh into this blog entry. Well you see, I used to believe I'm cool, too. I listen to cool music, I hang out with cool people, and I think cool thoughts (?!). I go to church to satisfy an obligation and keep the other aspects of my life reserved to maintain this state of coolness. But as I became more and more attracted to Christianity, I found out, without dismay, that I'm not really
Like a train running on a single track, my mind is used to the idea that worshiping God only entails prayer and harp-playing. Okay, maybe add the xylophone, tambourine, and those instruments we would never ever hear in a Justin Bieber song. But recently, our church has started to teach us that worship is a lifestyle. The output of all our endeavors based on our skills, talents and profession must be utilized according to the purpose of the One who has given them.
But it took some time for me to reconcile with the idea that creative arts can be used for worship too. For me, it means breaking all the rules; it is almost vulgar to do so, and un-holy to say the least. But then as I observe the works of the Master Artist in nature and in people, I couldn't help but blush. The result of our ingenuity is only a by-product of our encounter with nature. All that our hands can make or our minds can conceive are mere consequences of our being brought out into existence by our Creator.
These realizations have started to influence how and why I should do things. Worship is way more than singing songs on a Sunday morning, and the church is not just a place for confession, communion and prayer. It should be a place where talents are being harnessed and where creative minds converge. I realize that I am actually worshiping with this blog, being grateful to Him who has given me the ability to articulate my thoughts through written words. I now go to church looking forward to a release of even just a tinge of God's creativity on me, expecting that this is the best I could get on a Sunday to be used for the remaining six days of the week. ;-)
Click this LINK to have a preview of what other artists are doing in our church.
Meanwhile, I received this idea as we were singing worship songs -
Threads of fabric being woven
Lives interlaced, overlapping
Not by mere randomness
Our purposes in transcendence
Like gradients of hues painted in the heavens
It can't be noticed where one begins and where one ends
Linked with a perfect love the whole world has not yet known
We have each other; we're never alone.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Love Letters
Sends each romantic note
Through a number of different couriers
The messages are consistent
Speaking with passion and tenderness
His words profound and eloquent
He writes me love letters
Like dew drops of every morning's first
Giving mirth to my clouded face
Like red-orange gradients at every sunset's end
Serves as gird to my troubled faith
He writes me love letters
With tales of beauty and cavalier
Telling of struggles and triumphs
Of unreserved praises and promises
Love carved out into songs and psalms
He writes me love letters
His methods unlike anyone I know
Or remember
Bringing my heart to wild abandon
Taking all this life's care into sweet oblivion.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
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