21:31.
I want to worship with my drumming.
It just struck me in service this morning... most drummers I have seen don't sing when they drum. The first two times I drummed in OCF, I didn't either. There were moments when I closed my eyes and just felt God's presence but I wasn't at a place where sufficient technical aptitude was in place for me not to have to - or feel like I absolutely have to - throw all of me into the technical aspects.
I sing when I drum. More than that, I love worshipping He who holds my heart when I am behind the drum kit.
With every crash, with every fill, every time the stick makes contact with the snare, it's as if splashes of my heart's desire to worship You evermore splashes over.
I want to be a better drummer. A better keyboardist. A better guitarist.
I want to worship Him with all that He has given to me.
I will play my drums for You, Dad.
I love You most.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I will sing for You.
I will write for You.
I will live for You.
All of my days.
We have a deal, Dad.
Dear Jesus, I will fly with You. I remember our date.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I scared my guitarist yesterday.
We were having some problems with one of the faster songs or rather, I thought it was okay but the rest felt I should play a different way, more akin to the way another drummer does it, but they couldn't describe what they want so I got befuddled.
So, when I get confused, I can't "flow" and I stopped mid-song and went "arghhhhhhh!" at myself. The quiet guitarist who looks ever calm and almost bored looked up with shock and went "what's the matter?!".
I explained it was my reaction at myself, that was all.
Oops.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Friday, May 27, 2005
19:14.
It's 7:14pm on a Friday night.
I'm in the office, waiting for a call from a local celebrity. He's 44 minutes late already.
The office is cold. I wear my pinstriped Topshop blazer, Levis 593s, and Mango white Racer Back. Oooh, I just realised my entire outfit today are stuff I bought after I came back, plus the white Charles & Keith sandals too. The only things from Melb are my Just Jeans belt and my Levis bag. Oh, and since we are down at accessories, my sliver hoop earrings are frm Melb too, fruits of a shopping trip to Highpoint with Germie.
It is Friday. But Sunday's coming. Tomorrow's Saturday but Sunday's coming. Sunday.
For some reason, that popped into my head.
The office is fairly quiet by now. There are still people around, of course. I hear three of the editors talking, their voices carrying over the relative still-ness; Friday nights always see more eds staying back late.
Was going through the hotmail account where ocf yahoo group mail gets sent to. At one point, for some reason, I almost felt tears well up. I stared at one of the names, the sender. And remembered what I told her before I left.
I remember the conviction I had and have about the greatness of these folks.
Again, I feel like I could tear.
Such amazing people. And now, in the group emails I still get (I requested for my name not to be taken off the list yet), I smile at how "the young ones" are indeed rising up. How they are doing so much more.
I clicked through a link in one the mails.
It led to this year's July Camp website.
I was wowed, and nostagic, amazed and glad all at once.
I may not be there but God so is. And that makes me wowed and glad and almost teary all over again.
I clicked through every profile of the committee members, marvelled at stuff. Then, I clicked through the link that led to photos from last year's July Camp.
They are familiar photos. My lappie back home contains all of them, gleaned from various photographers. I saw my face, other familiar faces, smiles that still make me smile.
And I did. Even now. A small smile, remembering every precious person and memory.
The time is 7:44, I'm S k y e T a n.
And I remain:
thankful.
"For all that You've done, I will thank You
For all that You're going to do
For all that You promised
and all that You Are
is all that will carry me through
Jesus, I thank You."
- Thank You, Dennis Jernigan
It's 7:14pm on a Friday night.
I'm in the office, waiting for a call from a local celebrity. He's 44 minutes late already.
The office is cold. I wear my pinstriped Topshop blazer, Levis 593s, and Mango white Racer Back. Oooh, I just realised my entire outfit today are stuff I bought after I came back, plus the white Charles & Keith sandals too. The only things from Melb are my Just Jeans belt and my Levis bag. Oh, and since we are down at accessories, my sliver hoop earrings are frm Melb too, fruits of a shopping trip to Highpoint with Germie.
It is Friday. But Sunday's coming. Tomorrow's Saturday but Sunday's coming. Sunday.
For some reason, that popped into my head.
The office is fairly quiet by now. There are still people around, of course. I hear three of the editors talking, their voices carrying over the relative still-ness; Friday nights always see more eds staying back late.
Was going through the hotmail account where ocf yahoo group mail gets sent to. At one point, for some reason, I almost felt tears well up. I stared at one of the names, the sender. And remembered what I told her before I left.
I remember the conviction I had and have about the greatness of these folks.
Again, I feel like I could tear.
Such amazing people. And now, in the group emails I still get (I requested for my name not to be taken off the list yet), I smile at how "the young ones" are indeed rising up. How they are doing so much more.
I clicked through a link in one the mails.
It led to this year's July Camp website.
I was wowed, and nostagic, amazed and glad all at once.
I may not be there but God so is. And that makes me wowed and glad and almost teary all over again.
I clicked through every profile of the committee members, marvelled at stuff. Then, I clicked through the link that led to photos from last year's July Camp.
They are familiar photos. My lappie back home contains all of them, gleaned from various photographers. I saw my face, other familiar faces, smiles that still make me smile.
And I did. Even now. A small smile, remembering every precious person and memory.
The time is 7:44, I'm S k y e T a n.
And I remain:
thankful.
"For all that You've done, I will thank You
For all that You're going to do
For all that You promised
and all that You Are
is all that will carry me through
Jesus, I thank You."
- Thank You, Dennis Jernigan
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
12:22.
I want to go home.
Why does this thought still pop up in my head, even come out of my mouth so often?
At times, it's a mute whisper. Others, a sigh to God. It's like one of those scroll by tags on sites that move from left to right saying something like "buy me now", moving seemingly in and out of the screen but always there.
For some reason, I found it hard to get to sleep last night.
It felt like something was wrong somewhere and I couldn't be sure what. I tossed, I turned, I heard my Mom had a minor nightmare and make a small scream. I prayed, I spoke in tongues, I tossed, I turned.
Maybe it was and is the warmth. Maybe, but I fell asleep with a headache and woke up with a headache.
I miss home.
I'm unreasonable, not always sane, sometimes really happy, other times not as. I know, I know.
Dad, I need to feel that undeniable purpose for living. Besides knowing, I need to feel it too.
There must be more than this.
Otherwise, somebody kill me please.
I want to go home.
Why does this thought still pop up in my head, even come out of my mouth so often?
At times, it's a mute whisper. Others, a sigh to God. It's like one of those scroll by tags on sites that move from left to right saying something like "buy me now", moving seemingly in and out of the screen but always there.
For some reason, I found it hard to get to sleep last night.
It felt like something was wrong somewhere and I couldn't be sure what. I tossed, I turned, I heard my Mom had a minor nightmare and make a small scream. I prayed, I spoke in tongues, I tossed, I turned.
Maybe it was and is the warmth. Maybe, but I fell asleep with a headache and woke up with a headache.
I miss home.
I'm unreasonable, not always sane, sometimes really happy, other times not as. I know, I know.
Dad, I need to feel that undeniable purpose for living. Besides knowing, I need to feel it too.
There must be more than this.
Otherwise, somebody kill me please.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
11:47.
Got tagged by hypodermically
And for the record, this is the first time I am consciously aware this tag thing exists o_O but here I am, in the media conglomerate of Singapore, reading blogs (and ljs) to start my day off so why not? :)
1. Total number of films I own on DVD/video:
I assume VCDs count too... um, letmesee.... maybe 20? If we count music concerts, then I'll prob hit about 27.
2. The last film I bought:
Does U2's Rattle And Hum count? It's a concert/ documentary. Otherwise, I really can't remember, I think it's either a VCD of Reality Bites or Crybaby.
3. Last film I watched:
Ray. heh. You know, Ray Charles.
4. Five films that mean a lot to me:
- Reality Bites.
That's my No 1 of all times. It captures my generation for me... angst, idealism, confusion, stupid TV, how modern life is surreal, relationships dynamics... every thing about being 23 and wanting to change the world all your life then suddenly finding that you no longer know what you want.
- The Matrix
It will always be linked to those intellectual expansion and turmoil of the heart and mind that whew, I'm gg to say it, WritCom brought in year 1 of poly. And as I get older, read more and explore more ideas, I am still ever amazed at the metaphors and ideas the whole trilogy presented and packaged. And yes, I admit it, I want to wear leather suits and cool shades, travel dimensions and fight bad guys :D
- Before Sunset
I am a die hard romantic but yet cynical. Before Sunrise and Before Sunset was also both, and brought out both sides of me. There were stuff I didn't like about both flicks but see, I can relate to the characters on the overall. And the dialogue seemed to be straight from my head at times. Why Before Sunset instead of Before Sunrise? Maybe because Sunset is more gritty and real, and I liked how I could see the characters arch develop from the first flick.
- Lord Of The Rings
I can't choose a favourite out of the three but I'm going to argue that the trilogy counts as one film to me because I read the whole whopping book first before developing interest in the movies. When the book hooked me, it was already post Two Towers, pre ROTR on the big screen. LOTR means a lot to me for the same reasons as The Matrix. It articulates ideas important to me and encourages me somehow.
- Edward Scissorshand
Much tears were shed over this Tim Burton directed Johnny Depp/ Winona Ryder strange movie. Since I pretty much grew up feeling like an outsider somehow, I could relate to Edward. Sniff. Such a tragic movie. Sniff. Sniff. Sniff. But so beautiful. So strangely beautiful.
5. Tag five people and have them put this in their journal:
Er, don't need lah. I am an online hermit.
Got tagged by hypodermically
And for the record, this is the first time I am consciously aware this tag thing exists o_O but here I am, in the media conglomerate of Singapore, reading blogs (and ljs) to start my day off so why not? :)
1. Total number of films I own on DVD/video:
I assume VCDs count too... um, letmesee.... maybe 20? If we count music concerts, then I'll prob hit about 27.
2. The last film I bought:
Does U2's Rattle And Hum count? It's a concert/ documentary. Otherwise, I really can't remember, I think it's either a VCD of Reality Bites or Crybaby.
3. Last film I watched:
Ray. heh. You know, Ray Charles.
4. Five films that mean a lot to me:
- Reality Bites.
That's my No 1 of all times. It captures my generation for me... angst, idealism, confusion, stupid TV, how modern life is surreal, relationships dynamics... every thing about being 23 and wanting to change the world all your life then suddenly finding that you no longer know what you want.
- The Matrix
It will always be linked to those intellectual expansion and turmoil of the heart and mind that whew, I'm gg to say it, WritCom brought in year 1 of poly. And as I get older, read more and explore more ideas, I am still ever amazed at the metaphors and ideas the whole trilogy presented and packaged. And yes, I admit it, I want to wear leather suits and cool shades, travel dimensions and fight bad guys :D
- Before Sunset
I am a die hard romantic but yet cynical. Before Sunrise and Before Sunset was also both, and brought out both sides of me. There were stuff I didn't like about both flicks but see, I can relate to the characters on the overall. And the dialogue seemed to be straight from my head at times. Why Before Sunset instead of Before Sunrise? Maybe because Sunset is more gritty and real, and I liked how I could see the characters arch develop from the first flick.
- Lord Of The Rings
I can't choose a favourite out of the three but I'm going to argue that the trilogy counts as one film to me because I read the whole whopping book first before developing interest in the movies. When the book hooked me, it was already post Two Towers, pre ROTR on the big screen. LOTR means a lot to me for the same reasons as The Matrix. It articulates ideas important to me and encourages me somehow.
- Edward Scissorshand
Much tears were shed over this Tim Burton directed Johnny Depp/ Winona Ryder strange movie. Since I pretty much grew up feeling like an outsider somehow, I could relate to Edward. Sniff. Such a tragic movie. Sniff. Sniff. Sniff. But so beautiful. So strangely beautiful.
5. Tag five people and have them put this in their journal:
Er, don't need lah. I am an online hermit.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Monday, May 16, 2005
21:03.
There's beauty in a pheasant's wings
And for that I thank God.
For there's beauty every where.
Despite everything.
Walking out of the company is especially delightful when there's some sun left in the sky. When there is, on my way out, I would turn and look over the giant canal in front of the company at the patch of sunset still left. Sometimes, some bit of the sun still peeks at me despite the concrete jungle, and its orange glow always cast a beauty sheen over the water in the huge canal. [Note: It ain't a longkang, but a clean huge canal. Heh.]
There are certain routes that I always love walking on.
Back before I was 17, it was that walk home from Hong Dao Primary. The straight pathway right next to the fences of Yio Chu Kang Secondary, then a small road, then a HDB block, then a little zebra crossing before I walked under another HDB block before I can see mine.
I walked pass those fences with my head sideways too. Seldom with my head ahead at the road ahead of me, but on the grass patches besides me because you never know what you could find. Or so I used to think. I once thought a old strip of broken rubber tyre was a dead snake and told every friend walking home with me that it was a snake. And they believed me. Then one day, I realised I was wrong.
I loved too the walk home from the library that laid beyond the primary school. I used to talk to myself as I walk that path home, lugging books. Over the years, I dragged Melody Maker, pop culture books, Faust, comics, various vampire fiction, cheem stuff I couldn't yet understand like Mere Christianity... home. And as I carried the books and walked, I would talk to myself when I was sure no one was around. Dreams, fantasties, questions were hatched, voiced and given much thought on those journeys.
Now, my two favourite walks are the one leading out of the office and the one leading home. And when the weather's cool, and I'm in sensible shoes, the walks home from the MRT, me always raising my head up to stare at stars, those walks, they still my soul too.
Someone asked me the other day if working life has torn the stars from my eyes like it did for her. I said no. Maybe if that question was asked of me in late 2002, or early 2003, there was a point when I could have said yes. But no.
And the other night, I looked up again and tried to find Orion. Felt a bit sad when I couldn't. There was a sliver of a moon out, a pale crescent. I remembered staring out at the night time sky on another continent.
There is beauty in the pheasant's wings.
The world shouts a Hallelujah to our God.
I pause, close my eyes for a moment and felt tears spring out. I feel crippled almost with thanksgiving and awe.
He is so beautiful.
There's beauty in a pheasant's wings
And for that I thank God.
For there's beauty every where.
Despite everything.
Walking out of the company is especially delightful when there's some sun left in the sky. When there is, on my way out, I would turn and look over the giant canal in front of the company at the patch of sunset still left. Sometimes, some bit of the sun still peeks at me despite the concrete jungle, and its orange glow always cast a beauty sheen over the water in the huge canal. [Note: It ain't a longkang, but a clean huge canal. Heh.]
There are certain routes that I always love walking on.
Back before I was 17, it was that walk home from Hong Dao Primary. The straight pathway right next to the fences of Yio Chu Kang Secondary, then a small road, then a HDB block, then a little zebra crossing before I walked under another HDB block before I can see mine.
I walked pass those fences with my head sideways too. Seldom with my head ahead at the road ahead of me, but on the grass patches besides me because you never know what you could find. Or so I used to think. I once thought a old strip of broken rubber tyre was a dead snake and told every friend walking home with me that it was a snake. And they believed me. Then one day, I realised I was wrong.
I loved too the walk home from the library that laid beyond the primary school. I used to talk to myself as I walk that path home, lugging books. Over the years, I dragged Melody Maker, pop culture books, Faust, comics, various vampire fiction, cheem stuff I couldn't yet understand like Mere Christianity... home. And as I carried the books and walked, I would talk to myself when I was sure no one was around. Dreams, fantasties, questions were hatched, voiced and given much thought on those journeys.
Now, my two favourite walks are the one leading out of the office and the one leading home. And when the weather's cool, and I'm in sensible shoes, the walks home from the MRT, me always raising my head up to stare at stars, those walks, they still my soul too.
Someone asked me the other day if working life has torn the stars from my eyes like it did for her. I said no. Maybe if that question was asked of me in late 2002, or early 2003, there was a point when I could have said yes. But no.
And the other night, I looked up again and tried to find Orion. Felt a bit sad when I couldn't. There was a sliver of a moon out, a pale crescent. I remembered staring out at the night time sky on another continent.
There is beauty in the pheasant's wings.
The world shouts a Hallelujah to our God.
I pause, close my eyes for a moment and felt tears spring out. I feel crippled almost with thanksgiving and awe.
He is so beautiful.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
16:15.
Evermore, Hillsongs
Lost for words with all to say
Lord you take my breath away
Still my soul, my soul cries out
You are holy
And as I look upon Your name
Circumstances fade away
Now Your Glory steals my heart
You are holy
You are holy
You are holy Lord
Evermore my heart, my heart will say
Above all, I live for Your Glory
Even if my world falls I will say
Above all, I live for Your Glory
With all my heart I'll say
I'm living for Your name
With all to give You praise
We're living for Your Glory Lord
Evermore my heart, my heart will say
Above all, I live for Your Glory
Even if my world falls I will say
Above all, I live for Your Glory
Evermore, Hillsongs
Lost for words with all to say
Lord you take my breath away
Still my soul, my soul cries out
You are holy
And as I look upon Your name
Circumstances fade away
Now Your Glory steals my heart
You are holy
You are holy
You are holy Lord
Evermore my heart, my heart will say
Above all, I live for Your Glory
Even if my world falls I will say
Above all, I live for Your Glory
With all my heart I'll say
I'm living for Your name
With all to give You praise
We're living for Your Glory Lord
Evermore my heart, my heart will say
Above all, I live for Your Glory
Even if my world falls I will say
Above all, I live for Your Glory
Monday, May 09, 2005
17:55.
Five minutes ago, I ate an Oreo.
It's one of those half peanut butter, half choc cream ones.
The first time I ate one of those - always with the peanut butter side first - I was in Bouverie Close, nicking one off Vonnie's pack. With permission, of course.
Two hours ago, I was looking through Hannah's online photo album of her 23rd birthday (bwahaha, same age! Oops.)
It looks like fun, and like I told her and Germie before, I wished I am there. Smiley faces, happy faces, familiar background - that grey couch, those white kitchen cabinets, the walls that look beige under florescent lights, it's always very cool when people are happy.
I browsed through the rest of the albums. Saw my face in some of them. From Hannah's birthday celebration last year, from Easter camp last year.
Last year.
Last year, I was there.
Last year, I shared that same space, had some of the same friends, felt the same simple happiness I saw reflected in pictured faces.
I sat on that couch, I sat at that Ikea dining table, and just out of sight of that photo I stared at, was a wooden stool I parked myself at probably every single day before.
With dear friends and people, I created memories in that house.
And that red drumset? Something was strengthened in me when I took on the challenge of drumming for Parkville. Something forgotten was revived in the this-is-so-scary-i'm-so-stressed-about-drumming-these-songs walk-on type journeys.
How fast a year bring us.
Last year in this month, I first drummed for Ray at Parkville. Cringeworthy performance from yours truly. Song set at repeated mode for dozens of times in prep. Only time I burst into tears over the phone with Mom, I was that disturbed.
About five-and-a-half hours ago, I bought Bright Eyes' latest album. I first heard about the group from a cg mate, and first downloaded their songs with trusty lappie through Ares while sat at that dining table.
Oh the memories.
94 days and counting since I left Melbourne.
No, really, I am not obsessively keeping count of the days. Maybe one day I can tell you why I have my finger on the number but be assured I am not psychotically consulting a calendar every day.
We are hitting three-digit soon.
I've been having dreams of people. Just groups of people who were once physically in my life. My wireless connection at home has not been working for close to two weeks now so I am only online at work now.
A friend who returned in Dec has filed her offshore PR application. At her urging, I have called three migration agents, checked out all possible ways to get back, and mobilised my parents to double check whether we have relatives in Aust.
That last turned out empty since those we do know are not blood related.
The options I have left to exercise require me to pray lots and know exactly what I want and what I am willing to pay for it.
At the end of the day, I'm living in a living lesson. I think it's some epic... but I'm rambling.
I understand a very small measure of Paul's words.
"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." - 2 Corinthians 4: 8- 9
A lot of things are being stripped bare. And the process grates against my heart and mind.
The fruits of the lesson are many and great. I can glimpse their glory and potential but for now, I am in the waiting.
And I want to worship Him.
Five minutes ago, I ate an Oreo.
It's one of those half peanut butter, half choc cream ones.
The first time I ate one of those - always with the peanut butter side first - I was in Bouverie Close, nicking one off Vonnie's pack. With permission, of course.
Two hours ago, I was looking through Hannah's online photo album of her 23rd birthday (bwahaha, same age! Oops.)
It looks like fun, and like I told her and Germie before, I wished I am there. Smiley faces, happy faces, familiar background - that grey couch, those white kitchen cabinets, the walls that look beige under florescent lights, it's always very cool when people are happy.
I browsed through the rest of the albums. Saw my face in some of them. From Hannah's birthday celebration last year, from Easter camp last year.
Last year.
Last year, I was there.
Last year, I shared that same space, had some of the same friends, felt the same simple happiness I saw reflected in pictured faces.
I sat on that couch, I sat at that Ikea dining table, and just out of sight of that photo I stared at, was a wooden stool I parked myself at probably every single day before.
With dear friends and people, I created memories in that house.
And that red drumset? Something was strengthened in me when I took on the challenge of drumming for Parkville. Something forgotten was revived in the this-is-so-scary-i'm-so-stressed-about-drumming-these-songs walk-on type journeys.
How fast a year bring us.
Last year in this month, I first drummed for Ray at Parkville. Cringeworthy performance from yours truly. Song set at repeated mode for dozens of times in prep. Only time I burst into tears over the phone with Mom, I was that disturbed.
About five-and-a-half hours ago, I bought Bright Eyes' latest album. I first heard about the group from a cg mate, and first downloaded their songs with trusty lappie through Ares while sat at that dining table.
Oh the memories.
94 days and counting since I left Melbourne.
No, really, I am not obsessively keeping count of the days. Maybe one day I can tell you why I have my finger on the number but be assured I am not psychotically consulting a calendar every day.
We are hitting three-digit soon.
I've been having dreams of people. Just groups of people who were once physically in my life. My wireless connection at home has not been working for close to two weeks now so I am only online at work now.
A friend who returned in Dec has filed her offshore PR application. At her urging, I have called three migration agents, checked out all possible ways to get back, and mobilised my parents to double check whether we have relatives in Aust.
That last turned out empty since those we do know are not blood related.
The options I have left to exercise require me to pray lots and know exactly what I want and what I am willing to pay for it.
At the end of the day, I'm living in a living lesson. I think it's some epic... but I'm rambling.
I understand a very small measure of Paul's words.
"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." - 2 Corinthians 4: 8- 9
A lot of things are being stripped bare. And the process grates against my heart and mind.
The fruits of the lesson are many and great. I can glimpse their glory and potential but for now, I am in the waiting.
And I want to worship Him.
