a detail

why would a detail matter, in a world so vast like ours? i would ask that question again and again. in that silence, where the child meditates, one could hear a note that sounds like the answer to a puzzling query. really fast footsteps, rushing to catch the next bus, in a big city, there is a nice feeling of being lost, a feeling of being connected to the heartbeat of love.

miniature

My late father left behind some miniature figures at home. These specific figures bring back memories of my father being a dreamer, and a person who loved to read and reflect. This first miniature guy in the photo reminds me of the inner soul of my dad. Gaston Bachelard , in his book "The poetics of space " ,wrote that " paradoxically, it seems that by living in the world of miniature , one relaxes in a small space." By looking at these miniatures again, I was somehow transported to another time and space, where I felt intimately connected to the spaces at home shared with my late parents, where I always felt safe to dream and explore as a child, and growing young adult, and to talk to them about my feelings . It is a space where I never felt judged by them, but always, supported in the direction of my dreams. Even though they are now at home in Heaven with God, these spaces shared with them remain in my heart here on earth. Within these spaces, I do feel free to imagine !

inspired

i am thinking, maybe there is a way we could collect inspiration, and later, re group , categorize it, and break it into comprehensible forms. inspiration is a feeling, and i wonder if words could give total justice to it. i have a sense that i am in right now in a space here in singapore , where i am receiving such inspirations from certain people and events , but at the same time, i need a way to define and store them.

music for an exhibition

Last week a friend, Ursula (the young lady in the first photo ) , had an exhibition in Jahnstrasse, and we played some music over there. It was interesting to play in a room with a unique atmosphere created by her works around us.

hiking up the mountains

today i took a break from work, from reality, and hiked up the mountains in Harz, here in Braunschweig. we saw some really cool old school trains. it was cold, but the sun was shining, and the air was quite amazing.

street music germany

Street music is a joy. The language of street music is spontaneity,improvisation, fun and laughter. I only start playing more often in the streets of Germany this year, especially when the sun is shining. Compared to playing indoors, on stage, or for specific events, playing street music offers a new dimension to performing, and very importantly, freedom. My first experience was in June this year and it was with Martina, a friend who sings, in Hannover. Later, I also played with Andre , a guitarist, and Luca, a singer who already has her own band . And the journey continues.....

i collect nostalgia

This is Bürger Park in Braunschweig, the city i live in now. They have a carnival sort of thing in the weekend for about a month. It is called the "Kultur Nacht " in German. I went there to take pictures in the morning, where nobody was around. I sort of like the atmosphere in the morning. There is a certain freshness and also a kind of mystery, as if what happened the evening before was just a photographic moment. We can merely imagine the past and the future , in a space like this.

some street artists in berlin, mauerpark august 2013

We were there last weekend for the flea market. Really wonderful to have street music and performers being part of the event as well. This was one of the bigger flea markets I have been to in Europe. The last one I went to was in Budapest during the December holidays in 2012. Quite an interesting experience too, even though there wasn't music like in Mauerpark Berlin to accompany our walks .

recently i am working on a video that deals with objects i have found at home. diaries, childhood photos, letters from parents and friends, identity cards, etc. maybe it is a kind of time travel, a way to connect the past to the present. a way to collect nostalgia. i spent quite a lot of time in Singapore ( where i grew up) this year , and objects at home have become quite interesting to me; interesting enough for me to create a fantasy, a story; or maybe even a fairy tale. objects that allow me to create a world of pure innocence , like when i was as a happy 5 year old.

amazing grace

Anyway, it is one hour before bedtime, and i thought i would write a bit, to the outside world. I was looking at the older posts in this blog, and i was like, gosh, been such a long time since i wrote such personal thoughts here. I would think, is it really so important to do it nowadays? it seems that when we have more responsibilities, like work, and for some others, family, we stop writing. but i wonder if it is actually cool to continue? My mind has a tendency to wander, like into outer space, so to speak. Instead of allowing it to wander, and disappear into the air, why not bring them back to this blog space, and share with any reader who chances upon these words? For a while, words lose their power. Drawing becomes a way of life, a way of expression. Well, drawing still is, but writing gives us another possibility; another way of seeing. A lot has happened this year. The bible says" everything happens for the good of those who love HIm and who are called according to His will."( Romans 8:28) .This verse keeps my faith going. As i look back, it sums up all the experiences in my life. The one and only Beauty remains, and that is His AMAZING Grace.

An inner world without troubles, just the sound of the waves, the blue, and the faraway cry of the seagull, placed on an island, in my heart, within your gaze, I sit here for hours.

" untitled "

in love with the mystery of connection,
in a desert,
waiting and expecting,
a miracle, a flower,
love and music combined,
to form a new jazz,
a new movement,
before the night falls,
and another
new day begins.


" the magic of breathing"

the color deepens , in intensity,
a syncopated mix
of blue, green and purple,
as if one is drinking
milk and honey,
as if one is consumed
by the ecstasy of
existence, the magic
of breathing .

a pattern emerges, after 3 years of being
in a foreign land,
a pattern of colors, words, and a
a pattern of happiness.
sometimes improvised,
sometimes constant,
i look for the objects, the images,
the eyes of people,
so that i can record and remember
the treasure
that never changes.

sketches of the moment

dreamless

a dreamless night
is a mere pause
to a spectacular,
detailed,
compelling dream.
Eyes closed,
perceptions soar,
and a new world
begins.

life beyond the circus

there is an existence, where
our roles are being turned upside
down, where our voices become
the other, where the usual ways of seeing
become inverted, as if it makes
no sense,
and freedom becomes the way, of love,
of infinity,
as if we have lost touch with the reality
we grew up with,
and become part of a fantasy that
seems so surreal, so strange,
but yet so
compelling.

fire

the fire is in the distance,
shapeless and formless,
but i can feel it in my mind and heart,
as if i am drawing closer,
to the warmth, the blaze,
even though
i cannot really figure out
how far away i am still,
from the desired hill,
the desired promise
of honey.

exit from a dream

there lies a pattern in my dreams,
with a rhythm that is improvised,
free,
with the color red, like blood,
filling the sky,
till it warms the whole earth,
like a big candle among the stars,
showing me the way around,
through the wilderness, the alleyways,
the deserts,
till i make an exit
from my dreams,
and see a reality
in a new land.

empty space

there is a certain
mystery to this empty space,
filled with an overwhelming sadness
that has no answers,
but a beauty that transcends
colors, language, and thoughts,
a beauty as wide as
the desert,
and as elusive as
a floating cloud.