SNUBBING ROYALTY, FEELING STRANGE

I won an award from the government for the writings I have done on Malaysian art.

The ceremony is in two days and I've asked my dad - who I knew would be supremely chuffed - to receive it on my behalf, as I am thousands of miles away. It turns out they won't let him receive it from the King.

THE KING?

Ah shucks.

I HEART ART & THE GIGANTIC MOUND OF PAPER

I deleted my last post (about being the biggest moron of dreamers) because I was whinging and I think 'to whine / whinge' will be out of fashion by 2009 - here's to happier times!

And, here's to being a better archivist when it comes to recording links to online copies of my texts:

Sept 21 - Review of Samsudin Wahab's solo-exhibition at Galerie Taksu - MISERABLY sub-edited; Gina Fairley, I know you don't live in KL anymore (that was not my doing), and respected readers and friends, some of those sentences deserve to be binned and I will be the first to burn them in a wastepaper basket. I will post the raw text when I have some time on my hands.

Nov 30 - Review of Lim Kok Yoong's digital-installation, When You Are Not In Your Body, for VWFA's Project Room & the Bombay Sapphire Arts Projects '08 - an excellent exploration of new media practices. (Note to self: I've just recalled the semblance between the soundtracks to Bill Viola's video pieces and the thunderous sonic art provided by Dinesh de Silva & Dean Linguey)

Dec 7 - Review of Puah Chin Kok's photographic installation, art as photography as art at 12(art space) gallery - easily one of the more challenging pieces of art I have seen in KL this year.

Which brings me up to date. As indicated by my previous posts, I've been buried under mounds of work - still am - and gasp for breath at irregular intervals, but in states that are truly not my own. Paper and word documents sure are socially crippling.

Ah what the heck: one more whinge to round off the year...


Somerset House Ice Rink

Boy, do I miss that place. My seminar rooms, lecture hall, and library lies on the other side of this photograph - where you are sitting - and I'd trade my wish list to Santa to be sitting in the dimly lit library in the basement, listening to Christmas carols with my nose buried in books, again.

KEEP YEARNING KIDDO

Marsha has been working non-stop for the last eight months. So, Marsha booked herself a flight to snow-capped mountains to meet the magic polar bear with the pink mohawk, so she ask him the secrets of life. Marsha took on a job and the eventuality of meeting aforementioned bear does not seem so eventual anymore. Marsha can barely (or should it be bearly) string a sentence together.

Sigh.

Where is my holiday?

WORDS CLOSE TO MIDNIGHT

I am watching the clock tick and edge closer to the turn of another year. Odd feelings, calculating accomplishments and experiences, containing it within years of a life lived and measuring it against the unpredictability of the future.

Odd also how the words flow so easily sometimes, and then at others, stay buried within. Odd odd odd.

I wish I was Jack Kerouac. I wish I was outdoors staring at the stars.

I am watching the clock tick and edge even closer to the turn of another year. Odd feelings, letting dreams battle with reality, letting roars turn into whispers and mingle with the strings from a song by The Pogues.

Odd also how whiskey doesn't taste as nice with warm water as it does with cold. Odd odd odd.

I wish I was Walter Benjamin. I wish I was in a library hidden amongst books.

It's midnight. It's time I blew out the candles and went to bed.

THE WORLD IS ONE BIG GIANT SHITBAG

A few minutes ago, someone buzzed the office intercom and asked if there were any jobs going, any job at all. He is going door-to-door trying to gain employment and I had to turn him away. I feel like a right shitbag.

I don't understand the world sometimes. Correction: I understand it perfectly well and this is why I feel shit.

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Very busy. I should resurface sometime mid/end-October.

THE DEPRESSING STATE OF MALAYSIAN AFFAIRS

I'm at the end of my tether with how the nation's political landscape is shaping up. Does history repeat itself? Yes. However, it would be in bad faith to allow it to do so, to let the same mistakes be carried out.

Grow up. The twenty-first century cannot be defined by colour, creed, or the labels that separate us on our kad pengenalan (identity cards). Nor can we resort to draconian tactics and the imprisonment of individuals without lawful trial. It's incredulous that a government can flaunt pillars of human rights and expect to rally support for its equally inane scare tactics.

I urge you to read this article. Vive le Revolution.

SUPER SUPER WANDERLUST

She saw a balloon and wanted to fly,
tied the string to her fingers and reached for the sky,
the wind came along and whispered her name,
and said, 'better luck next time, get a seat on the plane."

BAH HUMBUG