Thank you for the music, love and inspiration. Thank you for shining the light and exuding joy. Your music speaks to me in a way I cannot describe. Another magical night shared with 8000 people whom I hope feel the magic.
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Thanks to my intellectual sparring partner, I learnt of the documentary titled Brain Story. Released in 2000 and produced by BBC, Brain Story is simply a mindblowing documentary that offers a look into the wiring of our brains, and what it takes to bring about the normalcies of daily living. That’s not all it really is, because it brings us to individuals with specific problems in the brain make-up such that you realise from whatever that’s damaged in the portion of the brain. life and what we take for granted everyday comes from complex workings of the brain. I’ve just watched up to part of the third episode, and it intrigues like hell.
Take the lady who cannot see moving objects. Having suffered a stroke, she is not able to see objects as they move. The notion is hard to imagine. But think of it as viewing frames of images, and not being able to catch a few frames in between two that you can see. So, if a person is walking towards you, you’d first see the person at, say, 5 steps away. The next moment, the person is right in front of you. How frightening life would be.
What’s also fascinating is the experiment that induces religious experiences, like the white light and feeling as if there are people around you. It’s amazing stuff. Can’t wait to watch the rest of it.
Something to remember from Stardust:
You know when I said I knew little about love? That wasn’t true. I know a lot about love. I’ve seen it, centuries and centuries of it, and it was the only thing that made watching your world bearable. All those wars. Pain, lies, hate… It made me want to turn away and never look down again. But when I see the way that mankind loves… You could search to the furthest reaches of the universe and never find anything more beautiful. So yes, I know that love is unconditional. But I also know that it can be unpredictable, unexpected, uncontrollable, unbearable and strangely easy to mistake for loathing, and… What I’m trying to say, Tristan is… I think I love you. Is this love, Tristan? I never imagined I’d know it for myself. My heart… It feels like my chest can barely contain it. Like it’s trying to escape because it doesn’t belong to me anymore. It belongs to you. And if you wanted it, I’d wish for nothing in exchange – no gifts. No goods. No demonstrations of devotion. Nothing but knowing you loved me too. Just your heart, in exchange for mine.
Back when Jason Mraz’s song The Remedy hit the airwaves about five years ago, it was during a time when I was in quite a funk. I had just embarked on going back to school and I had a very unsettled feeling in me. Being in my early twenties, I didn’t know where I was heading yet I was anxious to start living.
The song came on as I walked home listening to the radio on my headphones. I remember it clearly; it had just rained and the weather was cool. Simply said, the song put a bounce in my step. While I liked it at first listen, I dismissed it as, you know, bubble gum pop with a bit of rap in it. But I loved the voice, it was clear, light and had a friendly lilt to it.
I didn’t take much notice to it, except that, yet again he had come up with another great number You and I Both, which I loved for its rhyming lines – something that music today does little of. Even rap, which seriously should be much about rhyming but often the case is not.
Fast forward to a couple of years when I heard the news that he was hitting the local stage. A friend and I contemplated whether to go to his gig, and we finally decided – in time before the tickets sold out. And we were sold. There was something magical that night, with his easy banter and crystal clear vocals. This guy is made for greatness, I thought. Interestingly, what is played on radio lacks the quality he exudes live. Having paid good money for several gigs, I have pretty much sky-high expectations and he put a whole new meaning to live performances. It was just him, Toca, their instruments and a whole lot of good acoustics.
So, needless to say, I, you know, got my fingertips clicking on getting hold of his music. And his voice, melancholic and melodic, was what carried me through a transitional period when I thought through many things in my life. At that time, much has got topsy-turvy and I was scrambling to put pieces together.
He is merely music to me still then. I did not follow his career though he was on my regular playlist. Not until I went to the music festival for his performance which again is golden. I got hold of songs from his latest album We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things. For the first time, I visited his website, and I visited it again and again.
I wasn’t sure why but I think I know why now. I think Mraz represents the greatness that lies in the ordinary. He has a remarkable story behind his career, he looks like your average boy next door, yet this is someone who puts out brilliant music but is grounded- plus is not afraid to be a goofball. He seems, really, like someone you want to be friends with and talk about your weirdest ideas and philosophies. And he blogs(!) the weirdest and most thoughtful stuff.
Life has been treating me kinder these days. And judging by the mood of his latest album, his is too, which is why Iistening to his music is a joy now. His older songs are beautiful, but I felt they no longer reflect the spirit of the times for me now. With his latest, I’m thinking a lot more about where I am, and where I would like to be. How I would want to Make It Mine and Live High.
I’m thinking how I can live such that time is my own, yet I’m comfortable financially, where I’m free to pursue my interests. This is hard to do when you work the nine-to-five, or in my case, the ten-to-seven. This, I suspect, will be the niggle in my mind for some time.
i’ve had blogs before that i’ve started, maintained and then shut down after a couple of years. this one might meet the same fate, but let’s just keep the schedule open for now. having thought of blogging again for close to a year now, i’ve finally decided to sign up for one two weeks ago. now it’s taken me another two weeks to write the inaugural post.
why the itch to start again?
as a writer by profession, i deal with words everyday. i write, i read, i proofread and i edit. while i have lamented that i haven’t been reading very much these days, i’ve made conscious efforts to do so in recent months. by that, i read non-fiction. i no longer have the patience for fiction, but i’m not ruling it out as never. most certainly, it’s fatigue due to exposure to the written word every day. but needless to say of course i enjoy it. why else would i be crazy enough to begin a blog again?
that said, the wired world does not need another blog. but i do.
i reckon this blog would likely be a place for me to rant, rave and reek of narcissism, while i explore thoughts and, maybe, do an experiment or two. while i write everyday, i realise that my best phrases often come about when i lay in bed recapping the day or in the shower running through comical or imaginary scenarios in my mind. maybe i should hang up a little whiteboard on the loo wall. not to forget daily verbal sparring and throwing wordplays with my best friend-cum-husband to be.
these are then often stored in my memory to be used. god knows how tedious it can be trying to pull out the right phrases out of the crevices in mind! so for the benefit of my aging brain and my less-than-reliable memory, i now pronounce this blog my sounding board and memory keeper.
