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Archive for August, 2012

This is my absolute favourite of the Debussy Estampes.

The first time I heard it was at a student concert in which I was performing Chopin’s Barcarolle. I was slotted as one of the last performances and as a result, spent many rehearsals listening to the entire concert all the way through. Two acts before the intermission is a lovely and talented girl called Ruth playing the Debussy Estampes. I was at first drawn to her pastel green gown lovingly hand sewn by her mother. I thought that the dress was a little bit of a misfit on a 15-year-old girl. Then she sat down at the piano and I was just completely hooked.

This is one of those songs in which there are no dull moments for both the pianist as well as the listener. Once you start on it, you are compelled to go all the way through. I vowed to learn it and I eventually did, at my LRSM exam too.

I picked it up again a week back after getting through Debussy’s Clair de Lune and Chopin’s Berceuse. Although I currently play it at a tempo far less than prestissimo and I sail through some parts, stumble through others, it still catches me the same way, bringing me back to a lonely time when I ran across the river at lunch every day to the Esplanade to use the piano in that awkward little nook in the library; a time where everytime I wanted to share a private thought, I whipped out my phone and text Egypt. Of loneliness and the boy who told me about rain in the desert in December.

I lived in that dream for a while, maniacally, in the gardens in the rain, feeling the raindrops fall off my fingers, the storm quieting, that sudden blast of sunlight, the rainbow across the sky and birdsong. Maybe at the end of the streams, at the end of the rainbow, at the end of that wondrous flight of the birds, there would lie a place away from all the frustrations I had felt.

So when in doubt, always return to the music. Look back. Then look up at that face staring back at you from the polished straight back of your piano: a different face, a far different time. Count the steps that took you out of those dark times and always remember that things could have turned out far worse than they did.

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quid est veritas

…or how much I love my jeweller…

Inspired

first cast

completed!

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…spent with good friends, good food, far away from the City Centre.

It has become a sort of tradition to meet up with the D&D gang around National Day. After all, one of our longest running games was started on a National Day years ago, in which I played Ellesario the thief, then Dallandra the archer, way before the kids came about and our wizard found his one true love.

We ate at a little charming place called La Pizzaiola nestled in a quiet neighbourhood where Peanut ate a copious amount of garlic bread and Lion ate a copious amount of mushroom risotto and the rest of us made do with a variety of starters, two pizzas, lamb shank, and four desserts (with two helpings of chocolate cake).

I can’t even remember when was the last time I watched the National Day Parade in its entirety. Truth be told, I have even managed to escape participating in one of those in my school days as well. That is not to say that I don’t enjoy National Day. I do enjoy having one day to remember and spend with friends (and rather incidentally, friends of The Other Half from serving National Service together), to remind myself what it means to sit around a table with people you grow up with, people who watch you get married, have children, grapple and make do with life on this island and all that it throws at you.

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