Emotion

Emotion is a powerful tool (just like science). But, just like the scientific mindset, it is only too easy for the slave to become the master. It's only too easy for our emotions to overtake us.

Emotion is most powerful as a way of knowing. For instance, admiration for the qualities in others can tell us what qualities are desirable and that we should strive to cultivate in ourselves. Even negative emotions, like guilt, or mortification, are useful in telling us when we have done wrong and can guide us to do better.

But all of us already know this.

It's how to deal with emotion, how to harness its power without being overpowered, that many of us seem to have problems with.

The way I see it, emotion is but a bearer of information. What you do with the information is entirely up to you. As a master of your emotion, you must decide and choose your course of action. Should you let your passion inspire you to do something wonderful? Or will letting your actions be dictated by emotion make you do something dreadful?

A concrete, and simple instance of how to be a master to your emotion lies in the emotion of revulsion. When we see something that is revulsive to us, we learn to look away. This is good. We don't want to be harmed by what we are seeing. However, sometimes we cannot let the emotion dictate that action in response. We must desensitise ourselves from it, for instance, when we must dissect frogs, to reap the maximum reward for that poor frog's life (I call this a love-conquers-all syndrome, where you're letting the love of the frog overtake your disgust).

Having said that though, it is only too easy to let your emotion run away with you. Indeed it's perfectly understandable. When you do this, it's important not to let emotions continue to dominate. Do not be overcome by guilt, or wallow in it longer than you have to. The guilt is important in stopping the other emotions, for instance anger, jealousy, or misplaced love. Beyond that though, wallowing in guilt and allowing yourself to be depressed by it, is pointless.

This mastery of emotion is what will allow temperamental artists to lead a balanced life. It is this that will allow them to play with their emotions in their art.

Perhaps this might mean a limit in the depth of the emotion and art in the works of such artists. But I think that's a sacrifice that I am personally willing to make.

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muse

–verb (used without object)

1. to think or meditate in silence, as on some subject.

2. Archaic. to gaze meditatively or wonderingly.

–verb (used with object)

3. to meditate on.

4. to comment thoughtfully or ruminate upon.

[Origin: 1300–50; ME musen to mutter, gaze meditatively on, be astonished <>

—Synonyms 1. cogitate, ruminate, think; dream. 1, 3. ponder, contemplate, deliberate.

–noun

1. Classical Mythology. a. any of a number of sister goddesses, originally given as Aoede (song), Melete (meditation), and Mneme (memory), but latterly and more commonly as the nine daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne who presided over various arts: Calliope (epic poetry), Clio (history), Erato (lyric poetry), Euterpe (music), Melpomene (tragedy), Polyhymnia (religious music), Terpsichore (dance), Thalia (comedy), and Urania (astronomy); identified by the Romans with the Camenae. b. any goddess presiding over a particular art.

2. (sometimes lowercase) the goddess or the power regarded as inspiring a poet, artist, thinker, or the like.

3. (lowercase) the genius or powers characteristic of a poet.

v. intr. To be absorbed in one's thoughts; engage in meditation.

v. tr. To consider or say thoughtfully: mused that it might take longer to drive than walk.

n. A state of meditation.

bemuse

1. To cause to be bewildered; confuse. To daze.
2. To cause to be engrossed in thought.

amuse

1. to hold the attention of (someone) pleasantly; entertain or divert in an enjoyable or cheerful manner: She amused the guests with witty conversation.
2. to cause mirth, laughter, or the like, in: The comedian amused the audience with a steady stream of jokes.
3. to cause (time, leisure, etc.) to pass agreeably.
4. Archaic. to keep in expectation by flattery, pretenses, etc.
5. Obsolete. a. to engross; absorb. b. to puzzle; distract.
6. Archaic. To delude or deceive.

Friendships

Lately there's been a new topic of discussion that's been raging the blogosphere as I know it: Friendship. This is my take.

If we viewed the world in greyscale, there are many different shades of black and white. Once you view the world in full colour, these shades of black and white turn to actual hues, like turquoise, red, or yellow. Yet there are some which are so intensely black or white, that even after you upgrade to Technicolour, they will remain all black or all white. This is a story of Black and White, of darkness, and of light.

All along, White understood other Colours by shining its light on them. Some light was absorbed, but the rest was reflected back, revealing the hues in their resplendence. Since White is a combination of all hues, White took delight in the similarities it shared with these hues, in the colours that were reflected. What made it so beautiful to White was this: the longer White shone its light on these Colours, the more White discovered of them, the more hues were reflected back, and the closer the approach to White these Colours came.

Then Black came along. White tried to understand Black the same way it did with other Colours. It shone its light on Black. But Black being Black, reflected nothing back. It remained in the dark. White peered at Black long and deep, but could see nothing in the darkness except occasional cold glimmerings of light. White was never sure whether this light was the light that was reflected back from White, or from some internal source within Black, for Black, in its darkness, seemed to radiate an energy of its own, an aura of darkness.

Now, the chemistry between Black and White was different from the chemistry between White and other Colours. It was driven not by White's act, but by Black producing a reaction in White. White was piqued by the challenge Black presented. While White understood that it would never be able to understand Black the way it did with other Colours, White observed Black on its own terms, in its darkness, and thought that it had arrived at some form of understanding. No, the challenge Black presented was not merely the challenge to understand, but to influence. To establish some light in Black's darkness. It was a new struggle which energised and intrigued White. Of course, Black was darkness, and once light comes darkness goes. White knew this. White knew that despite all its effort, Black would still be Black. But White kept at it.

There were instants when White's light threatened to invade Black's darkness, and Black's darkness threatened to overtake White's light. These were instants when White's light completely flooded Black's darkness, and when Black's darkness completely engulfed White's light. But of course, White being White, it was almost immediate in its response to restablish its light, because White cannot be White without light. And Black of course, was likewise as quick to restablish its darkness, because Black cannot be Black without darkness. But sometimes in the struggle, there were lingering moments of balance and unity, and of great beauty. Snapshots of these moments would look like the yin-yang diagrams, a splotch of White in Black, and a splotch of Black in White, whichever way you developed the film (positive or negative).

All of us have a little bit of Black, and White in us. Most of us make friends the way White understands and delights other Colours. We appreciate similarities. But if we can respond to the differences in our friends the way White responded to Black, perhaps we can make the most of these differences. When coupled with appreciating similarities, friendships can be greatly deepened. And these kinds of friendships - which involve the embracing of the friend as a whole, their good, their bad, their similarities, and their differences - can be much more than just friendships for the sake for friendship, they can be empowering unions.

So what do I mean by empowering unions? I don't mean, as some might presume, the jump from platonic love to romantic, although it's true there's a change in intent. An empowering union is powered by the intent to work synergistically together to create something wonderful. But perhaps this isn't a change, but arises spontaneously as the result of being intent on knowing someone. Deeply.

Artistic temperament

I mentioned once that artists have to be very patient. Today while honing my craft at piano (read: last-minute practise), I think I figured out why artists are so temperamental.

You see, a lot of art is about the craft - the technique. Mastery of technique is very important in art if you want it to reach new levels. Through mastery of technique, new forms of expression are made available to you. You have a wider range of options from which to choose the most suitable means of expression, and be perhaps more purposeful in the way you express yourself through the art.

But central to art is expression. One transient definition of art (I say transient because art consistently escapes definition) I will employ here is that art is the expression of some aspect of life. We experience lives through our selves (which is why art is often the expression of self), and one of the most powerful ways which we can experience life is through emotion. This is why art is often an outpouring of emotion.

This brings us back to my reason why artists are very often temperamental, and inclined to being moody and passionate. Beyond a mastery of craft, they need a mastery of the art itself. Since art is often an expression of emotion. They need to play with their emotions. They need to gain in depth and breadth in their experience of emtion. That's why they almost need to be temperamental. It's almost pragmatic, even sensible in an artist to be overcome by their passion. They need to do it for the sake of their art.

So as an artist, is it possible to have the best of both worlds? A mastery of art, a diversity of emotional experience from which to draw inspiration from, and at the same time still lead a balanced life? 

I've found that the answer is yes. For me, it's a matter of allowing a stronger emotion to balance my life. Love. In a way it's a struggle between love of art and love of life and the need to separate the too. But when you let your love of life guide you, you will want to lead a healthy life, and keep you sensible. You can let your emotions, positive and negative, find a productive outlet in art, and have it end there.

[Edit: Note to self - from experience, no you can't.  This is just like so many other times, this was just wishful thinking on my part.]

You can't ever get what you want

I don't know why but roses always hold such a strange beauty and perfection. From their bud to their bloom to their withering away, I've never seen an ugly rose.

Maybe that's what all of us are - roses. Just that we can't see it, because we are the ones going through the stages of growth and death, and we never stop to appreciate the beauty of it in other people. That's the only way to see the beauty - to look at it in other people. You can't turn your eyes on yourself, although you may be able to see reflections of yourself - in them, in the water that nourishes you, in life.

---

We can never get what we want. Not really, anyway. This seems like a pessimistic, cynical statement, but it's not, really. It's just an observation, and one which has deeper implications.

But what do I mean by that statement? Well, think about it. The last time you wanted something almost unattainable really really badly, and you focused all your attentions on getting that one thing, did you get it in the end? For instance, as a dancer, I want to have the perfect fifth position - 180 degree turnout through both feet. But if I try and force it, I will end up compromising my technique and dancing. So I can't force it. Not with any real success. If instead I change my "want" to improving my technique as a whole, I'd focus on rotation from the inner thighs, and my posture - my abdominal muscles pulled up, tail bone tucked under. In this case, I will be working much closer towards the perfect fifth position than I would if I "wanted" it and tried to force it.

That was perhaps a poor example to the vast majority of people who don't take ballet. Let us take instead an example that I'm sure everyone is familiar with. At some point or another, we've all wanted acclaim, respect, or admiration. Yet if we go all out to try and impress, do we truly succeed in obtaining it? People will see your attempts for what they are, mere attempts, and dismiss them. If you change your "want" to wanting to tap your potential, and focus on developing your talents, people will admire the talents that you have. People will also naturally admire you for your humility, because you don't seek fame, but simply to do your best with what God has given you. But once you have changed your want from one to the other, you no longer want that. On this note, I'd like to clarify that this is what I meant when I responded to tags, and said that we should not worry about what others think, and focus instead on the truly important things of our life.

So we can never attain what we want. We can only attain what we used to want if we replace the old want with another want. But do we really need our wants to be satisfied to be happy?

Chiang Mai OEP

I felt I grew into teenagehood a lot this trip. All along throughout secondary school, I've been feeling twelve going-on thirteen, and perhaps around my birthday I felt like I'd just hit thirteen. But this trip has made me feel fully thirteen. And with thirteen, comes the inevitable gushy-ness...

First of all I'm going to gush about the loads of girly stuff from my amazing roomies, Chree and Moonie. I shared my very first, very own, bought-it-myself, dangly earrings experience with them, and learnt how fun saying no (i.e. shaking your head) is when you're wearing dangly earrings that swish about. Thanks, Moonie, for teaching me this. I was initiated into the kiap-ing of hair into the metal clippy things and how to use chopsticks to tie hair by Cherie, and loved experimenting with it with you. It's really the funnest thing ever, and it makes hair so much more interesting to me now. Bring on the girliness of being thirteen, baby!

The second thing that made me feel thirteen is the finally understanding the angst that everybody else seems to feel during adolesence. Admittedly, I was a little moody at times during the trip, and decidedly antisocial at others.

The third thing that made me feel thirteen is learning a little more about love. Although, in a rather un-thirteen-like way, I've decided that I really don't want it. Most of all, I don't want unrequited love. I've looked at it from both sides now, from up and down, and still somehow...I really don't want to be on the receiving or the giving end of it. When I was nine (my actual age, not the age that I'm feeling), I vaguely thought it might be kind of cool to have strings of beaux (the rhyming here is unintentional). Now, I know better. Now, I know I don't want it. Period. But anyway, I feel more thirteen now that I've got a clearer picture about what I want in love (ie nothing).

My hunger for beauty was satiated on this trip. The view were breathtaking. You wake up in the morning and look out in the blueness of the early morning light and see the picturesque mountains and the pictureskew rusting roofs. The waterfall, the hike in the mountains, the river rafting. It was breathtaking. The way the light falls softly and warmly on the foilage in the mountain trek is something I can't capture on camera, but I will capture forever in my memory. The way the drops of water from the waterfall fell on my face, and the sounds of the rushing water, and the splendour of looking up at something so tall, will also be captured indelibly in my memory. I know I could have taken in more and appreciated more of this kind of beauty, but part of being moody thirteen meant that I wasn't in the mood to appreciate it sometimes.

I'd love to say I felt extremely fulfilled helping the children at Le Refuge, and shipping the can tabs to the Prosthetic Foundation, but I somehow couldn't feel that joy in serving the community that some seem to find so easily. Somehow I can't find the same emotional attachment and gratitude I feel towards my family, my friends and the same desire to serve them. Instead I almost felt like I was doing the CAS out of duty. But I did want to do more for them. I want to give them more than just two brief days. But why can't I feel a burning passion to serve them? Why can't I find it more meaningful? I love the kids there, and I sympathise with their suffering, and I admire their strength, but somehow I feel I should be feeling more than that. My feelings just feel so shallow. I really admire the depth of joy in serving that some seemed to feel on this trip, and I only wish I could have been more like them.

Perhaps it has something to do with the language barrier. Now I know how my grandma feels trying to talk to me! I was reduced to saying only two things when talking to the children at Le Refuge: hello, and very pretty. My grandma manages slightly better, and can also say you is good girl.

I had lots of laughs on this trip as well. Jit and his "kiam pa", and Nana and her "O.M.G" and the Philipino accents. And the Rohayati Ma'am and Sir threesome that Chree, Moonie and I were. That was truly an unforgettable experience. And the prank calls! Our trip would not have been complete without the calls from Zong, Fong, Chee, Sher Sern, Yuangi, Zul and Benlai (I hope I spelled the names right). The coupling that went on was also very amusing. As was a certain person with his incessant punning.

Small^time = big

Don't you find it funny how true cliches are, despite their bad reputation? For instance, today I realised the truth of the cliche that the little things are the ones which count. Sometimes you wake up one day and you suddenly realise how far you've come from a few years back, and you kind of wonder how the change came about. I think it is the little things that make this change. The little decisions to just indulge that little bit here, or to make that extra effort to be nice there, that ever so gradually and imperceptibly build up.

Dance also helped me realise this. In dance, particularly in ballet, every move you make is important, and significant. Slack a little bit at barre, and you will feel it at centre work. In no movement can you say, what the heck, I shall slacken just a little bit here. Once you do so, the whole movement is ruined. Perhaps it is imperceptibly so, but the weakness will be revealed in other steps that you perform.

You have one life, take that little bit of extra time to think over the choices you make. You will live it all the better for thinking.

How to be happy

Firstly, look to the present. You will be able to find something in it that is beautiful. 

If you can't, look to the future, because you'll never run out of tomorrows, and with the advent of tomorrow comes inifinite possibilities, and renewed hope.

And when you're glad, look to the past, reflect and see how you can do better.

I was talking to Ahmah the other day about why we sometimes end up behaving completely differently around different people and in different situations. It almost seems a bit hypocritical.

But when you think about it, it's not really. You aren't changing who you are, but you're respecting the people whom you interact with.

For instance, when you go to a church, you don't wear a bikini. It simply isn't decorous (is that even a word?). Instead, you wear something that's appropriate to the occasion. In the same way, when you're around different people, you need to be sensitive to them - to talk to them about what they're interested in, to monitor your behaviour such that they are comfortable around you. It's a sign of respect.

Cycles of knowledge

I was reading John's blog when it dawned on me (I was going to say struck me, but as I've said before, my thoughts don't travel fast enough to strike) that a lot of knowledge is circular.

First of all, knowledge is circular because from the day we are born, information is being overloaded into our system. To get on with life and move on, we have almost no choice but to believe in the information, and trust that what our parents tell us is true. We cannot really establish any one truth move progressively, because that's not the way information in this world gets relayed to us. Instead, we can only assume temporarily that something is true, and use that truth to lead to new conclusions. Information is thrown at us in the disorganised, chaotic pattern the world seems to be ordered by (allusion to Chaos Theory, which is really not at all chaotic), and we have to somehow fit the pieces together. We use the incomplete puzzle to try and create and put in new pieces of the puzzle. In the same way, we assume that what we know is true, and that the way we've fit the puzzle pieces we have together is correct, to try and create or join together more pieces of the puzzle. Then looking back, we see how some of the temporary beliefs we have formed are likely to be true because it fits in with the rest of the pieces in the puzzle. In a sense, it's circular reasoning, and hence technically a fallacy, but it's really the only way we can know. Even the so-called basic Truth, cogito ergo sum, is vulnerable to circular reasoning.

Secondly, a lot of levels of understanding and growth are cyclical. As you mature, you realise how juvenile and naive your thoughts were before, and you change your mindset. Then you mature some more, and you realise that what was juvenile and naive was actually best, so you end up reverting, or regressing to these mindsets. It happens a lot in artists too. They start out with the childlike drawings, move on to realistic art, and regress to a stylised form of art not unlike that of a child's.

 In fact, that's evidence that Chinese culture is more matured than Western culture. Just look at the number of years it took for the Chinese to realise that art wasn't simply about just trying to translate reality onto canvas as realistically as possble, and compare it with the West. For the Chinese, if I remember correctly, the transition was just that, a transitory period lasting maybe a dynasty or so. For the West, it was ages.

Balanced perfection

As a child, beauty is simple, our ideals are simple. We find the lifelike, vividly detailed Da Vinci more appealing than surrealist Dali. We find the things that are pleasing to the eye beautiful. We see perfection as an ideal like getting a 100% on a test, or being eloquent, intelligent, graceful.

Now I realise that perfection isn't quite as simple as all that. Something that's too perfect actually loses some of its beauty, some of its perfection. Its flawlessness is an imperfection, and it makes it less interesting, less appealing. It's like the way master potters sometimes purposefully include flaws in their work. They could make perfect pots, the ideal pot, easily, yet they choose not to, because they see that perfection is also about the acknowledgement of flaws. In the same way, I realise that as much as striving to live up to the ideals of perfection, being perfect is also about the acknowledgement and acceptance of what is not perfect.

Actually, perfection is like dance. I once said that the most important aspect of ballet is balance. It's true for perfection. And balance doesn't mean taking the middle road, but allowing a dynamic equilibrium to occur as a result of the constant battle between the two extremes, striving for perfection, and your own imperfections.

Yet, life is beautiful

Shattered dreams and battered reality, 

Yet, life is beautiful. 

Crystalline palaces never to be built, 

Yet, life is beautiful 

as destruction by ripples of a revolution not 

Yet, life is 

a rose. 

Yet, life 

Remains while hope still springs 

Yet, 

we will have happiness 

Yet.

Why I take physics

I've finally found an answer which satisifies my sentiments more eloquently than my own expression ever could:

"Physics is really nothing more than a search for ultimate simplicity, but so far all we have is a kind of elegant messiness - or as Lederman put it: 'There is a deep feeling that the picture is not beautiful.' "

- Bryson, 2003

Yep, physics is the manifestation of my obsession with the paradox of the simple and the complex.

Understanding simplicity

Some of you may know I have an ongoing obsession with simplicity, and the dynamics between simplicity and complexity. I finally realise what I haven't quite been able to put into words all this while: complexity is only as complex as your lack of understanding. Once you understand, everything will become simpler. The more you can understand, the more the elegant simplicity, the organising chaos, will reveal itself. I hope that the rambling complexities I have perpetuated are becoming clearer?

Weird social practises: eating

You're not supposed to do obscene things in public - that's what your mother always told you.  At least, you should avoid doing things that are unpleasant for other people to watch, in public. Like dig your nose. Or fart.

So I wonder, why isn't eating gross? If you think about it, eating should gross you out! I mean, who on earth would want to look at someone shove a utensil up his mouth, and chew? It's as bad as poking your finger in your nose and digging around for a booger.

But oh, no, eating is somehow un-gross. People actually make appointments to go and watch each other eat! People find it romantic to go out to dinner together.

At least we don't have to see what's in their mouths.

Beauty ain't perfect

I was discussing the concept of beauty with Jenn the other day, and I realised that I needed to reconceptualise my idea of beauty. My sense of aesthetics has changed these past few years, a new revelation marking each progressive stage.

Initially, I thought that beauty was a series of ideals - the ideal figure, the ideal complexion. Beauty had to be absolutely flawless in every way, or at least, as flawless as it is possible to be in this imperfect world. I could classify very few people under this concept of beauty, and most aren't even alive today. Certainly none of my friends or the people I met everyday qualified as beautiful under this rigid dogma.

Then I began to see beauty in the everyday. Little things, but graceful and wonderful in their way: the cute upturn of nose, or the wonderfully expressive eyes. I started to realise that beauty is diverse. Although I still held onto my own ideals, but I became open to appreciating the deviations, which could be just as beautiful in their way. It was around this time that I began to realise just how beautiful a lot of my friends were.

After talking to Jenn, it dawned on me that beauty wasn't just about the exterior facade. I realised that part of the reason why I found my friends so beautiful was because of their character - their compassion, their honesty, their love - it all shone through on their faces, though perhaps it was not completely apparent to those who did not know them well enough to see it. But perhaps having to make the effort made the beauty all the more rare and beautiful. I realised that you just couldn't simply isolate the physical exterior from the inner one, something I thought it was possible to do all along.

Class act

It's finally dawned on me (I saw dawned on me as opposed to something like hit me because I am rather slow, and I don't think any of my thoughts would move fast enough to hit me) that language is the human way of classifying things. Classifying objects, people, ideas. Everything. We classify to communicate. Golly gee, right now, I am classifying!

It's a rather strange realisation, when you think about it. Everything we are saying is a classification. We understand things only through classification. Definition, explanation, organisation all stem from classification.

You may argue, how can that be? The only way I can reasonably continue my own argument is by defining my concept of classification, which is really just classifying the word using more classifications. Anyway, just for the record, my definition of classifcation is putting everything into some sort of category, or place, such that it will be potentially easier, or more convenient for us to grasp.

Maybe, the reason we will never be able to understand our universe is not because it is inifinite. Or at least, not just because of that. Maybe the reason we won't be able to understand it is because we cannot classify it. Perhaps a better statement might be: maybe the universe isn't meant to be understood. Because to understand it, or at least to understand it in a way in which it is possible for us to share our understanding, we must classify it. And we can't classify it because perhaps the universe just won't fit into our classifications. Just like some organisms won't fit properly into our plant and animal kingdoms, planting a foot into the plant kingdom, and another into the animal kingdom, our universe will never be able to fit nicely in whatever classifications, however evolved they may become, neatly.

It feels weird to think that all this time I've just been classifying...

Poetry without words

We often describe movements, particularly dance movements, that are particularly graceful as poetry in motion.  It's funny how we can grow up hearing and accepting phrases and quotes without really understanding their significance.

For instance, I only really just understood, in one of those 'Aha!' moments, the significance of the statement 'dance is poetry'.

Consider: the only words used in poetry are those which are succinct and eloquent, as well as inspired by life.  In essence, that is what sums up dance.  The movements used in dance are distilled from life.

Some poetry has rhyme and meter, but all poetry has rhythm, as does all dance.

But for all I have said I have not really touched the core similarity between these two. It's almost impossible to describe it, although it's wholly tangible. They both share a similar evanescent quality - performed in an instant, but remembered and immortalised for eternity. They are doses of life, of humanity, concentrated and refined into art.