Just a perfect day

I was chatting with M.S. and he asked me what I was going to do on my birthday. I said 'maybe clean my house', to which he replied 'NO! No work!'. Which is quite sensible advice.

So this is what I will do:

In the morning, go for a walk in the park

Come home and put on a favorite dress

Look for a story book in the bookshop

Go and read it in a cafe where the coffee is too expensive and the vegetables are organic

Go for a massage

Come home and bathe with a new soap

Put on another favorite dress

Go for dinner with my lover

Drink wine

Sleep a great sleep

Myanmar II

We sat on the same steps of the same YMCA building, looking out the same dusty windows at the same blue sky and run-down shack. The same Burmese flag was hanging there limply, just like it did that day last year. We sat and talked about it, smoking together. Nothing had changed, except for the addition of a pile of bricks.

I had said, see you again. And there we were.

You, me, and the pile of bricks.

The child in me

I had to put this photo up here. K. took this during our walk around a hotspring town. A little boy (girl?) appeared out of nowhere near a shrine. We kind of had a moment without language. We are actually petting a black cat together here. The cat is behind the child. We wandered on for a little bit and then the child tugged my arm and showed me a huge bee's nest hanging under a roof above us.

I love this picture. Actually the experience with the kid was a little strange, creepy even. It was like meeting a spectre of the child in me - who doesn't know if its a boy or girl, doesn't like talking and plays very solemnly. For a few moments the very universe was reduced to the both of us, the sunshine, the cat and the green grass - outside of this there was nothing, no one. We were playing, being alive, and being really serious about it, in a way that only children can do.

Penuh

Arrived home from 3 weeks in Japan. So full...

Hanging out with N.H.K, K.S., M.R. and S.W. was the ultimate. I've spent 5 years as a penggiat seni in Malaysia but never got to really know these cool people and talented artists.

N.H.K. teaching me find the Kiblat in our Tokyo hotel room.

Making up art on the spot... out of nothing, out of everything.

Dragging 20kgs all over the streets of Tokyo.

Battling the flu with sho-ju mixed in hot water.

Imbibing vast quantities of the freshest food, sake, sho-ju and beer.

Drinking bourbon and singing Let It Be accompanied by a live band in Fukuoka. My last night in Japan.

Slipping into a hot spring under the stars. Alone and naked.

In Tokyo, exhausted... finding out that at last, at last, ARTERI got the grant I had been hoping for, dreaming of. A moment of triumph that will never be erased, whatever the future outcome.

Feeling grateful for another day in this beautiful life, upon hearing about the earthquake in Indonesia and elsewhere.

Meeting S.'s mother.

Being with H.C. in Fukuoka, talking about art, life, culture, how people change and planning strategies for ARTERI.

Standing in Fukuoka Asian Art Museum and feeling bigger than the institution.

Spending time alone, realizing how solitude is as essential to my well-being as fresh food and air. A beautiful moment of self-knowledge whilst watching clouds, people and insects roll by.

Z. running up to me at the airport. Being together again with my best friend and lover.

Thoughts on sex

I started writing this with the lights on, then I got up and turned them off, scotch in hand.

I like the way skin feels in the dark, how it looks - the hills glow and the valleys sink into liquid shadow. Your sense of smell sharpens. Your voice gets deeper and more languid, mine does anyway.

I'm thinking about... how one can be degenerate, yet fine, at the same time. By fine, I mean, not 'how are you, I'm fine'; fine like, bone china, steel, a panther, silk, fine wine, whiskey, a fine man, an excellent woman. Fine to do with suppleness - of character and body, limbs, the mind. A supple mind makes the hair on my body stand on end. When I say something filthy to man who's buying me a drink at some random bar - I watch for that catch in his eye, then the slow smile, and I know I'm going to have a great time. It doesn't happen so often.

I like being on the edge of danger, and I'm fine with that. As I get older, I know my limits better, and I get to linger out there on the edge for longer periods of time, with none of the usual guilt and self-loathing. I really love men, how they make feel, the way they react to things - it's exciting and inspiring. What I've learned in my short years on this earth is that they're more apt to disappoint than to hurt you. If you accept this, a much better time is had by all. I love women too, they're so soft, so intelligent and powerful and compassionate, sometimes vicious in a way not many men are, and they don't let go easily. One thing about women is, they're terribly loyal. As I write this, different men and women I know spring to mind, they get mixed up with each other, until I can't tell who was masculine and feminine... the traits blur into each other. Writing this is a way of appreciating them all over again - the best and the worst.

In short, I fall hard for people who have great character and who love sex, and in whom these two things are always circling each other, like insects around a flame.

Mmm. This post has put me in a good mood.

Mmmm. Take me back.

Contemplating Toyohira river the day before leaving Sapporo. It was insanely sunny. Gorgeous, liquid. I was in the height of health! So happy to remember.

Recipe for happy room

1 Telescope
Large windows with view of green outside
Maps on wall
Rack of clothes
Walking shoes
Bookshelves made of old crates
Oriental rug
Futon
A few die-hard plants
Favorite art
Bicycle with basket
Raincoat
Sewing machine
Model ships
Record player
Hula hoops
Karaoke machine
Blackboard
The right cat (manly, stoic, dignified cat with handsome face)
Candles stuck in wine bottles

Sunday morning happy post

Sunday morning, waking up early with, if I was a man, the equivalent of a raging hard-on. Rolled around in bed for a delicious amount of time, replaying scenes with people I've slept with and inventing some with people I'd like to.

I have the house all to myself and I'm happy to be alone. Well, relatively alone - the cat is in the background amusing itself with the carpet. We had a moment last night after I came home slightly drunk. He had been moody and hadn't eaten all day. We did a little dance together in the living room at midnight, after which he suddenly started chowing down on his kibble like it was tuna sashimi. I suppose as creatures we all need some love and dancing to stimulate the appetite.

My mind is working very well, purring away like a high-grade instrument, taking pleasure and feeling anger at the right things, in right amounts.

I am really pleased with my wardrobe, I love all my clothes and shoes. They protect me and seem to set me up for adventure.

I've been listening to music that speaks to the man in me. Johnny Cash, Elvis and The Legendary Tigerman... a one-man blues band. Check this video out:



The man in me... I remember someone saying that people who are a mix of masculine and feminine are the most fun and interesting to hang out with, because they stimulate you on so many levels. Yes, me and Z. have the best time together... he is my favorite. Teehee.

Hey! I'm feeling generous. Here are some pics of Japan for you...

1. In my Sapporo apartment, contemplating the possibility of going out with a blue wig.

2. Rainbow in the Tokyo sky from the weekly apartment where me and J. stayed for a week.

3. Drinking until the sun came out... had to run outside in the freezing air to greet and salute it.

4. Dressed in yukata at the opening party of our Open Studio. I've never been so happy at an opening.

Flashes

Waking up so happy, I almost disgust myself.

Making significant dents in my vegetarianism by downing freshly caught sea urchin in a dark bar.

Too many vodkas, wines, and beers; too many days in a row.

Stumbling over rudimentary Japanese as I try to impress someone I like.

Grilled shiitake.

Impromptu drinking parties outside the apartment.

Riding my bicycle in a short dress, feeling cold air on my legs.

Discovering I can cook, write in Malay, and do anything I want to do.

Rice balls at 2am.

Time passing too quickly, building up reserves of positive energy to be rationed and used when I get back home.

Cheap plastic silver wig.


Making art out of thin air.

Acupuncture in my living room.

A full handmade cotton kimono as a present.

Knowing what my next tattoo will be.

Healthy

UPDATE: Now with pics to make you salivate. What's that's reflex thing again? The one that makes dogs drool? I'd google it. But...

Le ingredients. Fried rice is the same whichever continent you find yourself on. But my dad taught me to follow this rule: never put garlic in fried rice. Only onion. I don't know why, but I've never questioned this wisdom.

Managing a non-personal blog is like managing a thousand egos. And that's not even counting my own (substantial) one. At least I'm geographically distant from it all at the moment. Now I know why sometimes gallerist/blogger/super nice fellow Ed Winkleman just loses it and lashes out in the comments. In fact, I don't know how he manages to do it so seldom. I love you Ed!

Tonight I made use of last night's rice and made fried rice with long beans, onion, tofu and tomatoes. Surely enjoying one's own cooking as much as I did smacks of vulgar, sinful pride. It's just that I was so happy eating it. Tried a new Sapporo beer as well. I promised Z. some images, but I'll add them tomorrow. Enough of the internet and my computer today.

In the midst of cooking. I have a tiny frying pan, so I use the soup pot for pretty much everything.

You know that scene in Heidi (by Joanna Spyri), where she gets used to her new life in the Swiss Alps with her grandfather - she takes a cold bath, then drinks a glass of fresh milk, and eats a big slab of toasted cheese with bread and has the best sleep of her life? That's how I feel.

Presentation is everything. So is beer. I try a different beer every night so that I can build up a collection of beer cans. My motives are purely aesthetic of course.

Today I cooked

...a Spanish Tortilla - basically an omelette with onions and thin slices of fried potatoes in it. Drizzled on top about 1/3 of a tiny, ridiculously expensive bottle of Thai chili sauce I splurged on at the supa-maruketto. Cos, I'm South East Asian, yo. And we need our chili sauce.

And then for dinner, it was plain rice. Eaten with a bunch of grilled white asparagus seasoned with oil, salt and pepper. Tender bamboo shoot stewed in soysauce and mirin (sweet rice vinegar). Some fresh cherry tomatoes.

Plenty of flesh on me bones at the moment. Enjoying the tastes and textures of Hokkaido produce!

Drunken post

Riding home through fog at midnight, with vodka, wine and some home-made hooch (o-sake) in my bloodstream.

Crossing the bridge over Toyohira river was like brushing the robes of a sleeping god.

Pleasure, laughter, food and drink. Sleep now. I'm happy. Good night.

New fishbowl?

There is a beautiful park a short drive from where I live. I like to take a walk there, or if I've had one too many cookies that week, a run. Two weeks ago, on just such an occasion, I espied a house for rent along the row facing the park. Idle musing (wonder what it's like to live there) turned into vague considerations (wonder how much the rent is) morphed into mild obsession (hmm, I'm driving past the 5th time this week and the For Rent sign is STILL there) culminated in a spontaneous phone call to view the place yesterday.

And, well... it was such a pretty afternoon. I stood there looking out the front door: blown by the breeze, touched by the sun, the trees were a million types of green, their leaves the moving scales of a shimmering fish. A feeling of happiness and relaxation trickled into me like a quiet stream...

The house itself was modest, a lovely underachiever. Single story with cream walls, small rooms. It's a blank canvas, which suited fine.

Some things (like ice cream flavors) you wait and mull over, some (like love) you don't. So dear reader, I asked: how much? and coughed up a temporary deposit. The owner wants to wait a couple more days before they decide. If the stars align, I will have myself a new fishbowl! Shortly, I'll be canvasing for a housemate to swim around with. So watch this space...

Meanwhile, I'm sure you'll indulge me in a little daydreaming:

This is how pinboards should be. I love how they lean so casually against the wall. It's like a child's 'special' corner.

Goodbye forever BILLY bookcases from IKEA. Give me a motley crew of crates instead!

I often aspire to clean lines or a strongly designed space, but let's be honest, this is more like who I really am. Nothing matches, but everything is obviously much-loved.

The bathroom of the house above. It's a dream! This is the bathroom translation of the view outside the house!

All images from theselby.com

28

*The evil people took away the internet for a few days, so this is a delayed post. Enjoy... especially the picture (it's not me, it's G.)*

I read somewhere that being subjected to too much light is bad for the mind and body. (In fact, it's a technique used in interrogation and torture) If you've been up many nights doing work with all the lights on, you'll know what I mean. Darkness is comfort and rest, a kind of surrender. For so many weeks (months!), I've felt as though every switch in my system has been hardwired to 'ON'. I even found some switches to turn on that I never knew existed! It's been hard and slow coming down, switching off, tuning out. I still get up restless at 7am. A mild, inexplicable sense of panic accompanies me everywhere like a stubborn little pet. I’ve fed and cultivated it slavishly and it will just not. Go. Away. Shoo!

Yesterday was my birthday. It was a gentle day, full of quiet transformations. Me and G. got massages to celebrate. There was an… ahem, incident involving a pair of disposable panties, as well as a farcical lunch, which we will not delve into too deeply here. As we lay there purring and comatose, I couldn’t help thinking we were something like dead logs being aromatherapically prodded back into the land of the living and breathing!

In the evening, even though it was drizzling, we went to Pantai Pasir Panjang, nearby in Balik Pulau. I think it’s one of Penang’s last beautiful beaches. You take a short windy road, following the signs to Kem Bina Negara and Pulau Betong. You pass by saltwater marsh on your right and then there it is at the end of the road – our little secret hideaway! The sun was setting. The water was warm. I was being cradled in the bowl of the world - I floated on my back in it, feeling faint raindrops on my face… and then like some methodical short circuit every switch in my body and mind started to go out. Flip flip flip flip. I looked up at the great sky, and I was weightless – no words, no memories. I was only something tossed by the gentle waves, belonging equally to sea and shore: they couldn’t decide who was going to have me!

The light was something magical and seemed to go on and on. The waves got a little stronger. One, two: ok, it was decided then: the shore it was. I stepped out clean and at peace, warmed by an indefinable sense of gratitude. Me and G. swigged vodka, lit up cigarettes and watched until the sun burnt itself out in the sky.

Later, I slept the deep, restful sleep of the blessed. It was a great day.

Happiness

I was really happy last night. (Photo by Azwan Ismail)


Disco Darurat was fucking awesome! Pretty dress, great music curated by Jerome Kugan, crazy-ass dancing which turned into improvised performances at several instances, cheap alcohol (ok, it weren't that cheap) siphoned into me by A.Y. (thanks A.!), plus so many of my favorite people there (except Godzilla). It was a great night.

Happy Post 06

Lord knows I dearly love anything dotmatrix.

Awhiles back Z. downloaded a whole series of background art from a game called DinoRun. I just remembered them today and this is what my desktop looks like now:


It's the end of the game, in which our little dino hero has escaped the clutches of Dino-margeddon to reach Dino-topia! It's exactly the sort of place I'd like to live out my life at the end of my game (always assuming I managed to outrun extinction) - infinitely modest, yet elegant and comfortable.

The game itself is more fun than choosing an ice-cream at Baskin Robbins!

Happy Post 05 - My head is a music toy made in China

A present from G. - one of my favorite things in the world. Been wanting to post an ode to it for a long time.

(Super) Happy Post 04 - Sailor Shirt Bliss

No time to post pics, but all my clothes dreams came true yesterday. The puffy sleeve sailor shirt I have been obsessing about for months (staring at it the through the boutique window, special trips to the mall where the boutique is so I can fondle it with a wistful look on my face, etc.) is mine mine mine! It is hanging in my closet - making me happy and making the other shirts cower in their non-awesome-non-puffy-sleeve-ness.

Betta (in the boutique): OMG it's on sale
Godzilla: *silence*
Betta (trying it on): Oh, should I get it? Is today the day?
Godzilla: *Exasperated* It's 50 percent! Just buy it and be done with it!
Betta (at the cash register): My dreams are coming true!
Godzilla: Well, it's not hard if you set the bar so low...

And then, dear reader, it gets better!! Godzilla spots ANOTHER sailor shirt - with lots of buttons and a strange detachable bib-thing on the front. I put it on for fun and we both ooh-ahhed at the reflection. And then when I came out of the dressing room she was paying for it on her plastic.

Godzilla: Present.
Betta: OMG. No? Rilly? No I can't. No you can't! No? Rilly? OMG
Godzilla: At least you can wear this one out.
Betta: OMG. Sniff. (Ignoring not-so-subtle insult to personal tastes)

Sigh. I wore bib-front to dinner yesterday, feeling like the Queen of the Nile.

I AM SO HAPPY. Ok baibai, I got to work now.

Happy Post 03 - Tomatomania

Ok, so three Happy Posts in a row are probably pushing it. But it's either that, or I write about how my first day back in KL already has me in tears. Yes dear reader, real tears - of frustration, fear and just... unhappiness. I want to say: it's this city. But this city is not my enemy, according to a song by J.K. it's just like a reckless friend. Looking down at Klang river from the LRT the other day was the same as looking into a mirror. I felt exactly like all that muddy, smelly water rushing and rushing somewhere... not knowing where, just going on, hoping to find a way to the open sea. Are you thinking of that scene in Spirited Away where the River God comes in for a bath? Me too...


Anyway, feast your eyes on Newt's home-grown tomatoes. They are red, big, how else can I say it, BULBOUS. So full of the sun and the earth - doesn't it make you realize that really the earth moves around the sun, which is a great star burning off energy? All that - just to have a tomato. It's amazing. As I said to Newt, I may come off with a readable poem now and then, but she grows TOMATOES.

Happy Post 02 - Selamat Membogel

I can't remember the last time I wanted to

...take all my clothes off and run naked down a mountain lane with absolutely nowhere to go and nothing to do. No doubt insects would be a concern, but on the upside - no tan-lines.

Well that's exactly how I felt during a recent trip up a mountain in Penang, where I will be spending the latter part of the year on an artist residency. I must say the accommodations are a little cell-like, a little heavy on the exposed concrete aesthetic, if you get my meaning. But I'm a big girl and I can take it, besides, it's nothing that a few feminine touches of domesticity can't make good again.

I was dreading this trip due to the insane amounts of work to be done back in KL, but once I caught sight of the sea, I could physically - let me emphasize this - physically register the immediate drop in stress levels. My phone kept ringing on the drive all the way up the hill, continued throughout the day in my little hut - and yet, I didn't feel like flinging my head into a wall. It was as if... hahah, they can reach me but can't get me! Hahahahha.

As I was saying, I wanted to take off my clothes and say to the sun: hello! Look at me! Yup, every god-blessed naked inch. Except that there ARE caretakers living on the mountain too and I didn't want to be rude.

I ate, bathed, finished the rest of Jose Saramago's extraordinary book Seeing in one sitting, I ate somemore, smoked (I actually enjoyed every cancerous breath, as opposed to needing the drug to steel my unsteady nerves), stared into space, walked. When night fell the jungle seemed to close in around me with its sounds and velvet darkness. I got a little scared then, but I put the light on, crawled under my mosquito net and fell into blessed, dreamless sleep.

I am back in KL again. My back aches, my head aches. My heart aches.

But at least I know what I was made for: getting stoned, happy, creative and butt naked. What an affirmation.

PS. still on basics with blogger, so no pics, not even topless ones. Sorry!