SMS Musing #16

In between lucidity:

If I claim that I'm a musician foremost, then what is it that I stand for? Or rather, what have I done to further that direction that is my self assigned identity?

I have refused to get the necessary grading as a matter of principle, yet that is the bare minimum for entry to the music making fraternity. I don't cultivate a strong online presence that is effectively mandatory for the modern musician for self promotion. I'm not racing to the most prestigious competitions or performance venues to establish the kind of street cred that is expected. And I don't even do the most important thing that many musicians do---teach.

So what am I doing then?

Marching primarily to my own beat, playing music that is somewhat incomprehensible to many because it has "too many styles", like the kind of poly-linguistic potpourri that Finnegans Wake epitomises. I think I mentioned how my dizi dealer was telling me in an off-handed comment that I was playing to many different kinds of music to the point that I seem to have lost my roots (context is from the noodling that I was doing with the new pieces of dizi that I was picking up from him).

But do I really care? I somehow don't think so. As time goes by, I find myself being drawn towards using music to express myself, a short of sonic expression of the writing that I do ever do often. For the past few months, I find myself just noodling free style during the half hour before rehearsal time for Chinese Orchestra, as opposed to playing through the various solo pieces that were notated for the dizi. I still run through etudes every now and then, but the freestyling is more dominant.

It's so dominant to the point that I wonder if I'm missing something without realising. It's hard to say, really. In the old days, I can at least ask Chara, but now, who can I ask? Perhaps only others will know---I sure as hell don't.

SMS Musing #15

In response to a Facebook post asking about opinions on musical instruments made in China on the Flute Forum:

Which country a flute is made matters less compared to the quality control (consistency of output) and standards of said quality control ("student" grade versus "concert" grade). We use brand names as a proxy to determine these factors, because the well-known brands have an established track record.

Well-known brands can still produce duds, though that is likely to be less likely than some brand that is lesser known. Remember also that all well-known brands have started their lives once upon a time as an unknown one.

The only sure way to know if a flute works well or not is to play it for oneself. Trade shows are a way for the companies to showcase their best work. If one is looking for a steady supply of instruments, then it is almost necessary to visit the factories themselves to determine the two aspects of quality control I talked earlier before making a decision.

For musical instruments using more organic components (like wood, or animal skins) the question is more layered. It is less about it being made in a country and more about the ambient temperature/climate of the factory of origin. Organic materials are a bit more dynamic than metals, and can be affected quite drastically in their preparation and treatment in manufacturing. In these cases, the quality of control aspect extends deeper into the material supplier as well.

It's turning into an essay here, so I shall stop for now. 😅 I'm not here to defend nor denigrate "made in China" instruments, but want to advocate a more informed decision making process as opposed to relying too heavily on mental shortcuts that uses stereotypes.

SMS Musing #14

While dining out alone:

With much of the world staying connected through electronic networks, I wonder sometimes how hard it can get to voluntarily fall off it. I don't mean it in the sense of "going off-the-grid" in a prepper sort of way, but more like, how easy it is to "delete Facebook" and stay away from voluntary electronic networks. This means that those "not compulsory but you will totally suffer otherwise" government-related electronic networks don't count. Maybe it is really easy to do so... but the ramifications... I'm not so sure about that.

Will I ever be missed if I'm gone?

SMS Musing #13

While in the shower:

A realisation:

doughty

Hardy; resolute.

doughy

Resembling dough, as in being soft, pale or flabby.

Both words can be used to describe people, and with a change of a single letter (the letter `t'), it means something completely antonymous. Funny how words work out like that sometimes. I don't really see the word ``doughty'' being used much these days though; I run into them mostly when I am reading some translated works from before the 1960s. Perhaps there is less reason these days for doughty men and women since [physical] wars and battles are fewer and more impersonal than before.

SMS Musing #12

While lounging at Gochi-So Shokudo waiting for the delivery of my ordered Teriyaki Iberico special set:

As I scour through my contact lists on Telegram and/or Whatsapp, I cannot help but think about how after thirty years, life has seemingly gone full circle. I started my life alone with my parents, then had a sister, then went to school where I made friends, most of whom didn't last, served my national service, left with no lasting friends, studied overseas twice, given the opportunity to start a new life in a place where my kind is not just tolerated but welcomed, decided to forego all that in the name of principles like honouring promises and loyalties, fell in and out of love with different types of futures, and while everyone seemingly has "grown up", here I am, back with staying with my parents alone, practically friendless-ish, jaded with everything thst is happening in the industry that I had once thought I would stay in and make a difference.

Perhaps I'm one of those perpetually bitter dilettanti, always feeling that the society that I was in was always wrong in some way, making myself out to be some kind of outsider.

I'm not really sure about that though. As the days go on, side thoughts about whether I truly belonged to Singapore kept on surfacing in my mind. In some ways, perhaps the "system" has failed me, but perhaps in some other ways, I have failed myself. I believed too much in my ability to control my fate, and even as things got progressively less ideal, I kept on believing that as long as I kept on thinking, I would be able to think my way out of things.

Naturally, nothing ever works that way. Hindsight would reveal the breakdowns over time that aat that point I would bot be able to see.

But of course, it is easy to fall into such thought patterns due to the foibility of being human. It is easy to forget that far above sits the Lord, and He has His great plan from which I am to play a role in. I think I know of at least one point where it would be hard for me to deny myself to pick up my cross to follow Him, but with Him, nothing is impossible. It is always heartening to remember that I am God's adopted child now, and that I can cast my fears and anxieties upon Him.

A sign of delusion from one who has read/studied so hard that one's perspective is warped to the point that any sort of relief would be greeted enthusiastically without reason? No. I think it's just the natural realisation that would come when one objectively observes that one is only a miniscule part of society, let alone the universe, and that one's size is too small to matter in the big picture. God is the big picture, and it does take aa little getting used to the fact that one's life really isn't one's own. It's easy to fall into that complacency because we literally live only in our bodies all day all the time; that proportion of time spent is the reason why most are self-centred. But take a quiet night, and look at the darkened skies, and observe that each star seen is but one of a million more that we cannot see, and that each visible star is as large as or even larger than our sun, and it will be quick (and mind-breaking) to realise just how insignificant we are.

I may have gone full circle, but I don't need to fear the future, for I am safe in my Father's hands. Amen.

SMS Musing #11

While hanging out at my favourite bar and looking over at a neighbouring table and seeing a cute female:

At some fundamental level, I need to ask myself: do I just have really bad taste in women. Or more fundamentally, am I sufficiently untrained in the arts of choosing a mate for life, no thanks to the policies of school (I'm staring at you, RVHS with your "no BGR" nonsense), my bad skin in general, my spending of my so-called prime dating years studying overseas under the spectre of over-achievement (I'm staring at you, A*STAR for that 3.8 GPA requirement). The women that attracts me the most (and are attracted to me.in return) are abnormal in their own ways---either they really aren't into starting some kind of family, or are otherwise "pre-occupied" with other aspects of life.

I'm not going to lie; I'm not even sure it was actually worth it ti be on that scholarship that I was to study abroad and then return with a useless Masters degree. What's the point of studying so much and so hard if in the end, all I'm looking at is being exploited by people for not even the value of all the training that I've been through, without any sort of happiness.

It would seem that all that study and training has brought me nothing but angst, doubt, and bitterness, with a severely under-developed sense of the humanising self. I mean, I started with low attraction to women, but as the years go by, I am getting ever less attracted to them. It's not that I've "gone to bat for the opposite team", but that the foibles and failings of mortal humans in general, and the repeated demonstration of misplaced trust in people has made me super wary of wanting to start yet another [serious] relationship.

I pray weakly to God to guide me in terms of this. But frankly, as this sabbatical goes on, I am increasingly convinced that there is probably no other human female that is worthy enough of my trust, loyalty, faith, and love.

Sure, I might miss out on the sex, but is it really a loss? Maybe I might miss out on the companionship, but isn't a God-centric life supposed to ameliorate that?

SMS Musing #10

While waiting for my food at the Harry's bar at Esplanade:

One thing that I miss during this period of COVID-19 restrictions is the lack of the use of my mouth as a "third hand". What I mean is the use of my mouth to hold on to small articles so as to free my hands to do other things. An example of this would be to hold my EZ-Link fare card in my mouth while I use my hands to hold on to the stair rails as I make my way down from the second storey of the double-decker bus. Another example would be to hold my note book while I am zipping my bag up.

Small things that one takes for granted until they are no longer available. I suppose that's just one of the many lessons that COVID-19 is teaching us.

SMS Musing #9

Something that cropped up after I completed my morning exercise routine:

Ah, that funny feeling that one gets when one sees something cool/interesting, and want to share it with a significant other who is one's best friend for a good laugh together, only to realise that there is no more significant other and that she has cut ties and is probably not even a friend now, let alone a best one. And then that sad realisation hits when one racks one's brain to find someone else of a similar wavelength to share it with, and the list is empty, leaving behind a discovery and moment that goes away into the dump pit that no one will ever want to revisit on a good day.

I think that is probably what hurts the most after a break-up, that sudden need to re-learn (and remember) to just talk to oneself, instead of having a default person to share the thoughts with. It's been almost a year, but I still have these uh-oh moments.

Weird relationship pain never really goes away---its emotional impact just gets diluted over time and through reframing of the reality that provides all the context. The habits that can cause such pain need time to be unlearnt, and while I am definitely in a much better place than six months ago, it's still a long way to recovery.

My daily fear is if the recovery becomes too good that I end up shutting my heart forever. But I trust that God will show a way for me. I am alone, but I am not exactly lonely, since I still have my parents, some friends (who are slowly getting more distant), myself. But most importantly, I have a new and forever friend who will never destroy me the way other mortal people can---Jesus. However, me being still stuck in the flesh body means that there are times where I just lose my composure a bit and get lost in self-wallowing, but thankfully these episodes are getting less common, and more importantly, shorter in duration and thus lower in overall impact.

SMS Musing #8

While waiting for the bus:

Life is one big hysteresis loop. Things happen and affect us, and even though after that we sort of "get back" to where we were before, we never actually do. Because the context has changed, and more importantly, the innate bias encoded in our mind has changed due to the experience. It is yet another agathokakological set up, since the retainment of memories and experiences encompass both the good and the bad -- it is not possible nor is it healthy to keep only one set without the other. Life's experience is the autoencoded sum-total of all experiences.

SMS Musing #7

Wide awake from perspiring too much:

Never thought I'd write an entry on my phone in an SMS-like setting, let alone at around 1am. June came and went, and it hasn't been a productive month. Lots of diversions coupled with terribly warm and humid weather meant that I was always trying to find something else to do.

Work has been alright -- I've been coasting along on auto-pilot for a while and it's about time to dig the spurs in a little to push things over the current gravity well that comes from being in limbo between funding tranches and a less-than-obvious engagement strategy with potential partners. Frankly, it's not the most ideal situation for my operational efficiency -- reminds me too much of the nebulous direction that I'd experienced in grad school, where the direction that I think I was heading was totally not where I was heading. There will come a day where that traumatic experience will be gone from me, but today is not that day.

I've been taking French lessons on and off on Duolingo, a web site built by Dr Luis von Ahn, an old teacher of mine back when I was still an undergraduate in CMU. No real reason on why, except perhaps the feeling that it is time to expand my understanding of the Romance languages. Incidentally, I've also started on Spanish, and am hoping that the similarities will help rather than hinder progress. Maybe this is my way of preparing for Finnegans Wake, to be read some time in the unknown future.

Ah well. I think I'm sick of lying prone and propping myself on my elbows to type this all out on a tiny phone. Till the next update.

SMS Musing #6

Earlier on Saturday, while waiting for some friends for geocaching:

The mere fact that there are multiple entries under this SMS musings tag should be an indication that I'm spending a lot of time waiting for people to arrive. What I mean is that the only reason why I write these entries is merely to pass the time a little faster during the wait, so that I don't get too bored to the point that I start to think too much nonsense.

Anyway, another day and I'll be flying. But an all nighter awaits me as I scramble to finish up that draft before I head off into the sunset. Flying off this time feels more serene than the last---it might be that I sort of know what to expect? But in spite of it all, there's still that little uncertainty over various things that are out of my direct control; I suppose I just need to hang in there and see what happens. As they say, it ain't the end till it is the end, and the end ain't here yet. The small setbacks just turn me ever stronger by helping me realise that one needs a certain level of thick-skinnedness to live well in the world.

SMS Musing #5

While waiting outside a building...

Sometimes one cannot help but feel helpless in the face of things, especially when it all seems ready to overwhelm oneself. There is just too many variables that we have no control over, yet somehow life must still go on. Even the few things that we seemingly have control over turns out to be mostly a sham. If all of us do not really have true power over our destinies, then what is it that moves everything forward?

Illusionary they may be, I suppose there is still some truth amid all the lies. We probably have more power over our destiny than we realise, though much less than what we would have liked. Perhaps that is what life truly is about---to discover just how far our control is over our destiny. Maybe this can explain away all that we are seeing.

SMS Musing #4

While at Zirca earlier today for an exhibition:

It is kinda strange to be sitting on the top floor of a club and penning this down as a heavy beat is going on from the dance floor below. I suppose it would be a little odd to claim that the music is putting me to sleep, but it is true. The only reason I'm even still awake is all thanks to ConnectBot on the Android, which allows me to connect via SSH to other boxes that have things to keep me occupied.

But then again, the whole club scene is something that I don't really dig into; I'm not into the whole shallow social thing that dominates this whole scene. But of course the question to ask is, why am I even here in the first place? Mostly as a support role for one of my sister's exhibits at the exhibition, and that's about it. I seriously doubt if anyone cares though, since I've pretty much ended up sitting up here on my own. More than 2 years since I've come out of my shell and I'm still sitting om the sidelines: what a great ``progress'' there.

Anyway, it is fast reaching the time for me to make a sneaky getaway, the only type of exit I'm willing to put up with---not a fan of being a centre of attraction. Makes me wonder how the hell I can square this with my kob requirements of establishing reputation and street cred.

This is getting a little too long for an SMS Musing, so I'm going to stop here now and make my getaway.

I suppose there ought to be a limit on how long an ``SMS Musing'' counts as its namesake.

SMS Musing #3

While waiting at the carpark of Venus Drive prior to a MacRitchie Reservoir Park hike/geocaching trip:

At the risk of jinxing myself, what was supposed to be an easy 25-minute drive became an hour of horror as I kept making one wrong turn after another to the point that it was fucktardly stupid. How the blazes did I screw up so badly in spite of having read the gorram map multiple times? I think I have sunk to a new low this time. This is really so stupid---I've just wasted everyone's precious time. I feel like a failure now.

SMS Musing #2

While on the train, I just had that inclination to write something that occurred recently, and so here it is:

You would think that by now I would be used to the whole idea of going it alone, but I suppose I'm still human after all. These few days I have been interacting with one too many couples and it has a somewhat negative effect on me. I find myself a tad more anxious than usual, and somewhat more importantly, seemingly losing my ability to stay calm. I think I need to get back into the groove of not giving too much of a damn; must remember that when people are in a relationship, it has nothing to do with me, even if they choose to act all lovey dovey in front of me. That's the least that I can do for myself to do myself justice and avoid all these strange emotions. At the end of the day, those couples only have eyes for each other and don't really care about the people around them, no matter how close they are in friendship.

SMS Musing #1

One day while waiting for someone, I started writing a fragment on my cellphone using the SMS interface. Here it is:

And some days you wonder if life were a dream, and that everything that you ever knew were merely illusions. It becomes hard to decipher what truly is real and what isn't, and slowly, you learn to just accept whatever is present before you. But each time a deja vu strikes, you cannot help but wonder if there is more than meets the eye, that something somewhere is noticing your confusion and having a good laugh about it. The surreal fog of supposed truth always keeps you wrapped firmly within its cold grasp, as though it were the only thing that remains important and unchanging. Wonder turns to reluctant acceptance, and slowly the thought of ever questioning reality fades slowly away, never to return until yet another strange day. Perhaps this is the ultimate destiny of humanity, where one day we will indeed run out of new questions to ask.

Obviously I didn't send this out to anyone/anywhere, but I thought it interesting enough to transcribe it for here.