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A MEMORY, A MONOLOGUE, A RANT, & A PRAYER [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
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Chicken Dance (Part 2) [Oct. 27th, 2009|02:00 am]
I've never really understood why some friends aspired to be Primary / Secondary school teachers. I've tried my hand at relief teaching, some camps and workshops etc, and I've always felt that it was exasperating to try to explain basic concepts and communicate in a more simplified manner, since I've always had some difficulty making direct points. And what's with rowdy kids and the constant need to speak a few tens of decibels higher in day-to-day conversation with them, and having to come up with ingenius ideas to sustain their interest and their adoration of you. Far too tiring for me.

I did some facilitation work at a neighbourhood school today, and was placed in charge of a Secondary One Express class. It was, chaotic. The students ran around without a single inkling of authority, and their form teachers couldn't care less either. It was quite a contrast - you had all these noisy, spritely young things, and you also had a bunch of poker-faced, wrinkled adults, who moved about like R2D2 in Star Wars.

Apparently the sense of achievement from getting their school into the Singapore Guinness Book of Records for the longest-lasting chicken dance (all 5 minutes of it), was going to boost their morale, so that was just what we did.

We pleaded, we cajoled, we screamed, we appeased - just to get them to even carry out the dance moves. Once. That whole process had to be repeated over a zillion times, before they actually grudgingly slipped into dance mode, and yes, they did make the records.

And surprise, surprise. Despite all that whinging and black faces, they actually did enjoy it! We had them write 'learning journals' at the end of it, and collected it back. I had expected to see tons of 'worst day of my life', 'lame ass shit', 'who gives a damn about chicken dance', but those little angels actually felt differently, contrary to the signals they gave out. They actually did feel a sense of achievement, and did have fun. So those ear-ripping screams that rang out at the end of 5 minutes weren't simply because they were boomboxes ready to explode, but instead, a victorious war cry.

It was quite a rewarding moment for me, sitting all sweaty in a corner of their hall with a stack of their journals in my lap, and thinking to myself, 'Teacherhood, possibly?'

Then again, no one actually wrote that they'd be willing to do the chicken dance all over again.
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Writing Samples from Livejournal (2008 - Present) [May. 16th, 2009|05:14 pm]

Some of my favourite entries on this Livejournal site written by me over the past 8 months, collated here for easier reference. 

 

5 pieces of writing. )
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Art Work (2006 - Present) [May. 16th, 2009|03:52 pm]

I had no formal art training or experience prior to taking art in junior college. Due to budget constraints in my college (I was part of the first batch of art students), I was unable to focus purely on photography, and had to take up pencil and paint work as well.
I spent 1.5 years living, sleeping and smelling art, fervently practicing on a daily basis, in order to bring my drawing skills on par with the rest of my class, something which I'm pretty proud of.

My work. )

There's more of my photography work scattered around on my Livejournal.
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Conceptualisations - Portfolio School (March - May 2008) [May. 16th, 2009|02:20 pm]

The scamps here are all rough work which have received better reviews from the CDs, but still require polishing up.
 

Environment + Anti-Gambling + Energy Drink. )Environment + Anti-Gambling + Energy Drink. )Environment + Anti-Gambling + Energy Drink. )Environment + Anti-Gambling + Energy Drink. )Environment + Anti-Gambling + Energy Drink. )
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Samples of Work at AGI Communications (Dec 2007) [May. 16th, 2009|06:47 am]

LIPPO REALTY 
Brief: Copy for Marina Collection, beachfront housing on Sentosa Island.

Your passion. Your joy. Your playground.

This is life, the way you want it to be. Enjoy a truly privileged lifestyle with luxurious spas, a state-of-the-art gym, exclusive clubhouses, fine dining, and a multitude of other amenities.

With home nestled between golfing greens and lapping waters, this is where your dream vacation lies. There's no backyard more lush, and no front porch more alluring. So get ready to set sail for this marina life!

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Samples of Work at Mandate International (January - April 2007) [May. 16th, 2009|06:27 am]


IFS Capital + Singapore Armed Forces + VivoCity. )

 

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Love Poetry [Apr. 22nd, 2009|05:01 pm]
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Thorny Rose [Apr. 5th, 2009|03:45 am]
     

It's been awhile. )

I need to take more photographs. Of since displaced faces and names, but deeply embedded memories.
I hope I am somewhere, and a someone, to them too.
 
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Here comes the sun! [Apr. 1st, 2009|03:42 am]
I'm back to hitting 13km on tarmac, and I'm hoping I'd keep this up - either build up on the speed, or increase the distance, over the next few weeks. It just struck me that it's 2 months to Sundown, and in the countdown towards it, 19 days will be spent studying for the finals, 12 days will be spent in Israel, and another 14 days in London (hopefully!). I wonder what my longest distance will be, considering I'd have to cover that before I leave for Israel.

Sundown is starting to look a little daunting.

My ankle's being annoying as usual - I can tell when I hit the 5km mark, because that's when the muscle starts to twitch. And I can't resist this - it gets on my nerves! Haha.  

Oh, and I read Plato's Symposium, and it is said that people were hermaphrodites until God split them in two, and now all the halves wander the world over seeking one another. Love is the longing for the half of ourselves we have lost.

Aww, this is pretty lovely, although I don't really care very much for love at the moment.

It brings to mind gaudy keychains of broken hearts, that will never share the same house key.
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It's an A! [Mar. 25th, 2009|02:21 am]

I am mighty pleased with my Public Policy essay which has just been returned, since S (as he signs off as) calls it 'A good (and very credible) effort!', claiming 'the argument is good and you make a plausible case'.

Hip hip hurray!

Let me celebrate a little, since that was the essay question which I picked as a challenge to myself - I don't usually attempt such questions, and slaved over the readings on the plane to-and-fro from Korea, whilst everyone was making full use of the in-flight entertainment or catching up on sleep, and subsequently spent hours whining about it in school and at home. I can't remember how many times I berated myself for being smarty-pants.

Now, the funny bit is, S commented on my writing style - 'your writing style is basically good but comes across a little too formal and a bit stilted (which is better than too colloquial)'. This is puzzling, albeit amusing, since I was discussing the pluralist and elitist system, which is pretty much a serious topic. Moreover, he chastised me for using too informal terms in my last paper (I likened some policy to being 'the cherry atop a cupcake', HAHA). 

Perhaps S wants me to tread the thin line between frivolity and seriousness. 

In line with that, I know just what I should start my upcoming paper with - 'Social problems are alike attention-seeking whores. Amidst the highly stratified population of issues, they manage to claw their way to celebrity status, to become dominant topics of political and social discourse.'
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Love Makes, Love Breaks [Mar. 23rd, 2009|03:00 am]

"I think I'm falling for you," he said.
"Don't," she said. "You'd only break your heart."

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(no subject) [Feb. 17th, 2009|10:26 am]

"The flaw in the pluralist heaven is that the heavenly chorus sings with a strong upperclass accent"
(Schattschneider, 1960)
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Together, but apart. [Feb. 16th, 2009|02:32 am]
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& I'm proud to be one. [Jan. 28th, 2009|09:10 pm]

Social Scientists were the 'conscience and protector of society'.
(Spector and Kitsuse, 1971: 37)
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FA [Jan. 28th, 2009|02:30 pm]

The Year Ones in my Financial Accounting class annoy me - in that fuck, they make me look damn bad kind of way.

I always appear to be late for class, simply because 95% of the class arrive, and are seated with their books and laptops open, before I do. Before 12:00:00 sharp, actually.

And practically no one goes for that well-earned 15 minute break. So I always appear like the most heck-carish student, with disregard for time.

If that's not enough, no one buys food back. So I'm now huddled at the corner, trying to eat my fish&chips in the most discreet manner possible, when there's a glaringly obvious mountain of fried food peering over the ledge of my table. And possibly the wafting smell of fish as well, since my semi-blocked nose isn't too active today.

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Policy Essay [Jan. 27th, 2009|04:41 pm]
"This Hitler had only one objective: justice for his people, sovereignty for his people, recognition of the independence of his people and their rights over their resources.. If that is Hitler, then let me be a Hitler tenfold."
- Mugabe, 2003

My policy essay on Zimbabwe's economic collapse and political repression is making me awfully happy. Or rather, the research is, and I'm reading way too much for a 2000-word essay.

Zimbabwe's hyperinflation under Mugabe is fascinating. The annual inflation rate, as of November 2008, was 89.7 Sextillion (1021) percent, coming from what was known as the 'Jewel of Africa' (up to about 8 years ago - I think). 

And if I'm not mistaken, his daughter's studying at Hong Kong University under another name. Cool shit, if I'm lucky enough, I'd get to communicate with a dictator's daughter.


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(no subject) [Jan. 27th, 2009|01:04 pm]
It's not the commotion, the crying and the shouting, that's killing me. It's the vacillations in mood, the swinging from one dimension to the other, in less than a fraction of a second. There is no trigger point, because everything and anything is, and can be, a trigger. I am a mouse in the house, as I scurry around (only when absolutely necessary), because I do not know where to tread, or whether the grounds I patter upon are landmine-lined. Almost anything can launch a missile. 

In this household, normalcy is characterised by tepid communication, which flies into demented rage, tenuous threats, excruciating explanations, a torrent of tears, and hysteria, of which neither party has a ear, or an eye for. There is unpredictability and nonchalence, and the words which fly do not traverse along the same airspace, but instead dissipate into pockets of air, to be hoarded for awhile later - the next session. It takes place after the ions of tension settle, and it is a cycle that has been well-fitted into schedule.  

This is alike a theatrical rehearsal. Painful, gnawing, taunting.
But this is not roleplay. 

The wretched heart cannot feel heartwrench.
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(no subject) [Jan. 26th, 2009|12:46 am]
I am running, in my dreams.
I dream of, running away.
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Flying Off [Dec. 14th, 2008|04:42 am]

In 12 hours time, I will be traipsing the streets of Ho Chi Minh city, hopefully already checked into the guesthouse. 

I'm excited, stoked, psyched! Especially since this backpacking trip is going to be photography-centric - Joshua is bent on getting his 'story', and Mark and I have loaded up. 

Among the 3 of us, we've 3 DSLRs, 2 SLRs, 8 lens, about 40GB of memory space, 1 lomography fisheye camera, and about 20 rolls of film.

The last time I went on a photography expedition was with Nic and Xavier, to Keong Siak with high hopes of capturing sleaze - and returned pretty much empty-handed in that aspect.

 
(Photograph credits to Xavier)

Here's to fantastic photographs in Vietnam / Cambodia, I'd see you when I return on the 24th!

In the meantime, I can be contacted on my Singapore mobile number (if it's really urgent), or via email (SMU's / Gmail's) or Facebook.

Take care all, and have a very Merry Christmas!

Much Love,
Eileen

P/s. I think I win when it comes to having the lightest backpack out of the 4 of us - mine's only 6+kg!
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HUAT AH! [Dec. 12th, 2008|04:52 am]

I'm feeling a wee bit guilty.

I drove down to the club today, and saw Ping's mum's car while walking out of the carpark. And I thought it would be awfully fun to drop her a message on Ping's behalf, so I smsed Ping and he in turn gave me a message for her, which I wrote out and stuck it under her windscreen wiper.



She came to the conclusion that Ping returned to Singapore on the sly, and called him when she saw it, demanding to know where he was. Upon hearing he was still in UK, I think she got a little confused, because the message sounded like it was written by him - and she asked him why it was so.

I feel bad! You know, how it's akin to providing false hopes and toying with feelings, but on the other hand, it was really funny as well!
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