Ive never liked caramels. The molten sugar taste sweet, nothing special, jus sweet. Worst part about it is the aftertaste. It feels like uve shoved a jar of old sugar into ur mouth, and ur tongue becomes so saturated with a sweet taste that ur jaw feels numb and u r desperately looking for water to wash it away/down. The feeling is sickening. However, Marchen caramels made me understand why caramels are so popular. I got these at a Hokkaido fair at the Isetan Supermarket. They are like sweet snowflakes. Melts quickly, evenly fills ur mouth with a light sweetness, that leaves quickly before the sugary flavour becomes too heavy. Its like magic.
The experience was similar to the one ps Judah Smith described during service, while he was here in the church im attending, as a guest pastor/preacher. He had described his first time to a cheese factory as an adolescent, and how boring and laborious the tour of the factory was, and having only tasted modified, preservative saturated “cheese” he had the worst time possible during the tour. Only when he was “forced” to sample some of the cheese at the end of the factory tour, did he realise how magnificent cheese truly was. I probably had similar thoughts in my head when the promoter nicely asked if I would like to try some caramel. How wrong I was.
I had recently watched this youtube clip, with a sample of the type chemical “cheese” that ps Judah Smith had described while preaching. Ive always hated mac cheeseburgers, and never thought anything cld be worse. Well… I was wrong again. The burger in the above clip, is made of chemicals! It kinda disgusting that they have u think, u are eating beef and cheese when in fact u are chewing on emulsifiers, starch, yeast and gallons of preservatives (which effectively makes lesser gruel). It’s tiresome to think that large f&b companies spend more on packaging and advertising than on the food itself. Worst part is that the expenditures are justifiable (as in, I understand why it is done). Even so, I dun agree that the ends justify the means and prefer to find a way to break the vicious cycle.
Till then, I’ll jus enjoy my caramels.
Monday
golden mile, khong fatt beef noodles, $4.30
It was a good week past. Sunday, wasn’t all great, but even the worst day of this week had its good moments.
Tuesday was good, I had some questions answered and a new perspective received.
“I own that which belongs to Me”
Saturday’s sermon had one tiny sparkle of raw goodness. Sigh… so raw, I can hope to hope again.
“my request (to God light years ago) doesn’t return a void answer... sigh... and after so very, very long”
Sunday, reaction reading can sooth a jaded self-esteem.
“God is good, to me. Unfair? Yea, in my favor”
sigh… (: and better days to come.
Tuesday was good, I had some questions answered and a new perspective received.
“I own that which belongs to Me”
Saturday’s sermon had one tiny sparkle of raw goodness. Sigh… so raw, I can hope to hope again.
“my request (to God light years ago) doesn’t return a void answer... sigh... and after so very, very long”
Sunday, reaction reading can sooth a jaded self-esteem.
“God is good, to me. Unfair? Yea, in my favor”
sigh… (: and better days to come.
Sunday
barley tea "made from six-rowed barley" from muji, $1.90
I remember a large wooden dining table we used to have at home. When folded, it could host 6, when extended it hosted 8 or 10. It’s a common contraption these days; you can get a very similar table at Ikea anytime. But back when I was five or six, it was unique and very interesting – I had to tip-toe to look over the table and I had gotten my fingers caught in the foldable parts more than once.
Most importantly though, at eye level of a five/six year old, there were the cutout letters “t a b l e” stuck jus below the table top. I had a lot of trouble spelling when I was five; I would spell “talbe” or “tebla” instinctively. My mom had placed the letters there; she cut out every letter from coloured paper, stuck adhesive tape to the back of each one and pasted it on the table so that I might spell better. But not jus there, they were also on the chairs, walls, windows, doors and perhaps every other basic household furniture that you would expect a five year old to spell at school.
Back then spelling was a bother to me, I liked the shapes that the letters made, and most times I enjoyed trying to scratch out the letters without breaking them.
I don’t remember if my spelling improved because of them but today, that memory reminds me that I was and still am very loved by my mom.
Have you ever tried cutting out letters on rough, porous coloured paper (the kind that frays at the edges when cut with something blunt) with primitive tools? And after that fold (cos double-sided tape was extravagantly expensive) and attach two pieces of tape on the back of each letter. Finally attaching and reattaching (after your child carefully and continuously scratched the letters out) them onto parts of the house and furniture. It’s tedious! Very laborious! But to my mom, it never once seemed like it was trouble. It's mind bending.
Thus, I have come to the conclusion – a designer can design a house, work out its form, scale and proportions. Have wondrous control over its materials, colour and lighting. Have some expensive, super comfortable, state of the art furnishings. Still design doesn’t turn a house into a home.
But I will.
p.s. muji’s barley tea is crazy. its my fifth week drinking it on a regular basis and its aroma still astounds me. you get more flavour smelling the tea then jus guzzling it down your gullet. gotta smell the aroma, smell it!
Most importantly though, at eye level of a five/six year old, there were the cutout letters “t a b l e” stuck jus below the table top. I had a lot of trouble spelling when I was five; I would spell “talbe” or “tebla” instinctively. My mom had placed the letters there; she cut out every letter from coloured paper, stuck adhesive tape to the back of each one and pasted it on the table so that I might spell better. But not jus there, they were also on the chairs, walls, windows, doors and perhaps every other basic household furniture that you would expect a five year old to spell at school.
Back then spelling was a bother to me, I liked the shapes that the letters made, and most times I enjoyed trying to scratch out the letters without breaking them.
I don’t remember if my spelling improved because of them but today, that memory reminds me that I was and still am very loved by my mom.
Have you ever tried cutting out letters on rough, porous coloured paper (the kind that frays at the edges when cut with something blunt) with primitive tools? And after that fold (cos double-sided tape was extravagantly expensive) and attach two pieces of tape on the back of each letter. Finally attaching and reattaching (after your child carefully and continuously scratched the letters out) them onto parts of the house and furniture. It’s tedious! Very laborious! But to my mom, it never once seemed like it was trouble. It's mind bending.
Thus, I have come to the conclusion – a designer can design a house, work out its form, scale and proportions. Have wondrous control over its materials, colour and lighting. Have some expensive, super comfortable, state of the art furnishings. Still design doesn’t turn a house into a home.
But I will.
p.s. muji’s barley tea is crazy. its my fifth week drinking it on a regular basis and its aroma still astounds me. you get more flavour smelling the tea then jus guzzling it down your gullet. gotta smell the aroma, smell it!
Wednesday
chicken rice at redhillmarket, $2.50 - $3.00
Its been better these days. The reasons I stopped blogging still exist, but for the past 2 months, Ive had some decently happy thoughts. Im moving on. Only cos its necessary.
Its close to 12am, late. Semiconsciously, I count the hours I have left till 7am repeatedly. My eye lids are kept open, only by the fact that im still interested to finish typing this note to self. Im disastrously tired frm cycles of 10hrs and 13hrs of lecturers per day from the last week.
But, Im happy, very.
2 weeks of workshop by Hans Bascher. Fantastic. “Pure gold”. :p I learnt so much more in 2 weeks than the last 2 depressing years. So much understanding and comprehension has been experienced that my brain now tingles, once again, with excitement for tomorrow. The possibilities! I can almost feel the blood rushing through my head, like a hurricane through a hollow cave. Like a drug it numbs all the troubles and cares I continue to face.
Moreover today, I attended another single session talk by Kenneth Huff, whose work was heavily conceptual.
And when this is all over, Ive still got 3more months of night classes drawing/modeling.What more could one ask for? I would ask for more, I want more, but as it stands, its good enough for today.
Its close to 12am, late. Semiconsciously, I count the hours I have left till 7am repeatedly. My eye lids are kept open, only by the fact that im still interested to finish typing this note to self. Im disastrously tired frm cycles of 10hrs and 13hrs of lecturers per day from the last week.
But, Im happy, very.
2 weeks of workshop by Hans Bascher. Fantastic. “Pure gold”. :p I learnt so much more in 2 weeks than the last 2 depressing years. So much understanding and comprehension has been experienced that my brain now tingles, once again, with excitement for tomorrow. The possibilities! I can almost feel the blood rushing through my head, like a hurricane through a hollow cave. Like a drug it numbs all the troubles and cares I continue to face.
Moreover today, I attended another single session talk by Kenneth Huff, whose work was heavily conceptual.
And when this is all over, Ive still got 3more months of night classes drawing/modeling.
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