memories

yesterday, ben, a friend from my german class, told me about a dream he had two days ago, he dreamed that he was in a place, and he suddenly felt oddly and intensely connected to the universe. he is not religious or anything, but he felt that there was a huge creative power guiding him. he started to point at something in space, and out popped something, like a work of art. he did it again and out popped another one. whatever direction he started pointing, something amazing would come out of it, even though i was not given the visual details of these products. during that time, he was also very much aware that he was dreaming.

i felt quite inspired so i did two mini pencil drawings of his dream this evening, but i don't think it really captured what he initially conveyed.

besides practicing german together, i like jamming with him on my violin. we did it yesterday, together with another pianist friend of his. Ben is an opera singer and i think our sounds go quite well together. i am sure there's more fun and experiments ahead for three of us and we plan to meet next sunday again.

two weeks ago, near to midnight, my friend brought me to her church because i begged her to play on the organ for me since i hadn't heard the sound of the instrument for ages. we had to walk through a pretty deserted area before we arrived there. not only that, after we reached the building, both of us had to climb over the walls like midnight thieves in order to get inside the hall with the organ. it was fun and suspenceful doing that. tianling played mostly Bach on the organ and i was just there, listening. it went on for about an hour or so. i was like in a completely different world, just alone with the music. it genuinely felt like a sanctuary, faraway from the urban culture i had been living and caught up with these past 8 months. after that, we had to climb over the walls again and started heading home.

it's nice. it's nice when your friends bring you to their dream worlds.

to begin with

A playground it shall sometimes be,
this land, this home,
filled with a sense
of the unreal, the mysterious,
the unanswered.
Every color has its tale,
a story that amazes me
with its brutality and fervor.
Indulging in the coziness of
empty halls, mansions and gardens,
I begin to sculpt
with the clay I chanced upon
in the nearby woods,
dreaming that one day,
a statue of an angel
would come alive,
startling me with his dance.

that moment

It is what I remember
that drives me out of the tunnel
into this wide open space
with autumn leaves and used cigarettes
combined to give me a feeling
of nostalgia
for that moment I imagine I did
spend with you.
Your face seems elusive
and yet so filled with goodness.
Did we ever enter that alleyway
where the silence
enveloped us, asking us to
pause, to think, to turn away
from the gaze of the outside world?
Or did we actually ignore it
and continue following the noise
of the traffic ahead of us
forgetting our feelings,
disguising our thoughts
only to churn them out
in violent graffiti
in yet another silent alleyway.