Category: Bonjour le Monde

Welcome to Annectar’s Room: a treasure trove of favourite things

Saying Goodbye: Sylvester, the ‘Cow’ and other farewells

Sylvester, the 'Cow' and Other Farewells-2A family had moved away for 3 months now; along went their cats, Sylvester and the ‘Cow’. They were not particularly fond of me, like I was of them. Sylvester never allowed me to pat him though I stopped by daily to salute.

Molly (whom I called the ‘cow’) greeted me at times: strolling over to rub her head against my ankles 😊 or rolling over on her back when she spied me. Still, I learned not to pat her. For often her initial coyness changed to an eerie hiss!! a conduct I could not fathom .. was there something wrong with me?

Nevertheless I adored them. Their mere presence made my neighbourhood – just that much lovelier.

Around this time of my neighbour’s exit was another one: at my work place. A group of colleagues whom I had come to know – for almost a year, and genuinely like – were leaving the office, one after another; trickling out the company and from my life.  

Yes, life and work still goes on. The adult in me moves on, shakes the dust off and continues the daily march. (Or maybe, grind.) The child in me aches for the time – not so long ago, when work was almost play – filled with daily streams of laughter, mischief, and plain wackiness 😉😜 .

Heraclitus said ” the only thing that is constant is change “. How about farewells?

No one said anything about what to do with these half-sown relationships. The constant ebb and flow of people in our lives – like shifting sands over the Saharan desert. Is it easy to just say goodbye? 

If ” to say goodbye is to die a little “, how much of one is left when those whom we connected with are no longer found? Are not friends witnesses of our lives, whether in little or great moments? 

Being alone sometimes feels unreal. How can I be sure – if what I saw, or what I did – wasn’t just imagined, without a companion or witness? When I stood over the beautiful Seine river for the first time, 5 years ago, I had asked myself – is this real? Was I really here in Paris beholding this beauty?

No one was with me to share that blissful moment.

So I took lots of pictures, as souvenirs and witness of my journey, many of which appear on pages in this blog. 

Looking back at the many chapters of my life, I found treasure in the motley collection of persons encountered through my shifting trades.

Saying Goodbye to the 'Cow"From my wild ‘hairy’ days at Toni & Guy, to days of song and dance backstage of musical theatre, to where I presently am in a corporate academy: this is a tribute for all the boys, girls, men, women, whichever race and sexual preference you are of; who have crossed my path. I am the sum of these memories of you. Like differing shades of a painting, you have coloured my world .. 

I dedicate to you a luminous performance of Cole Porter’s ‘ Every Time We Say Goodbye ‘ (YouTube link) by the multi-talented Lady GagaDid you know she sings jazz and classics really well?

I hope you enjoyed this post and the dedication. Leave me your comments .. 

 

Till next!

One in a Trillion You: remembering LKY on SG50

The clock just struck twelve. Today marks the 50th year of independence for my country, Singapore; known also as the little red dot 🙂 . I can't remember how this cute name came to be but it has stuck to the national psyche somehow. An earnest pride of our achievements in spite of all limitations - of land, of resources.

And here, a man. A great man. Of immense energy and charisma, but not just that - a steely will; brave heart; a master of both great and small - Lee Kuan Yew, led this pygmy nation to this day. He is not here to celebrate with us today sadly. He had departed on 23 March 2015.

I recall distinctly the raging tempest, the night before the dismal announcement. Fiery claps of thunder. Wild lightning bolts. Torrential sheets of rain (they might have been tears from heaven). It was the same on the day of the State Funeral Procession. Throngs of thousands waited in the downpour, lining the streets to bid their last farewell to the dear man, our founding father. 

I kept one particular illustration of Mr Lee (picture on the right) that moved me most, among the copious articles surrounding his death (which had set both local and international media abuzz substantially). He is depicted with his back view in the midst of a garden; seemingly inspecting it with both pride and caution: this garden he planted by his sweat and blood.  The blue jacket is one he often donned while in office. This garden - is both my country, the Garden City, and perhaps, paradise. I'm quite sure Mr Lee would be peering from heaven today, watching if everything is well with his garden; and may I add, with pride at our National Day Parade in its Jubilee year. Rest in peace, Mr Lee. 

And to all my fellow citizens and residents, I wish you all a wonderful Jubilee Weekend!!

 

LKY in the garden
Picture: Lianhe Zaobao
(line is caused by newspaper fold)

 

Sex and the City and why I blog

It mwhy do I blog?ust have been Carrie Bradshaw, journaling thoughts for her next column as she mused over her sexual life and that of New York City’s at large; that I had my first inkling of someday doing what I am doing now. Somehow the picture of Carrie’s reflective gaze at her MacBook always stayed in my mind. 

So here I am, typing on the MacBook at my favourite McCafe. A robust Long Black and strawberry sundae for company. Chill. This moment is one I always look forward to and cherish.

Besides getting cozy with the MacBook, notebook and coffee (like the picture ๐Ÿ˜‰ ), I am simply disposed to enjoy this solitude, and many hours of contemplation.

I could contemplate on shoes, for one. Shoes make or break an entire look. They say “Shoes Make the Man”, “Give a girl the Right shoes, and she can conquer the world”. I think they’re right. My favourite is the oxford for its unmatched class and adaptability.

On the subject of shoes, Carrie Bradshaw was an undisputed authority. A huge fan of shoe couturiers: Manolo Blahnik, Jimmy Choo and Christian Louboutin; she could, not just write about shoes but be seen striding through New York City on almost any shade and variation of them.  

I recall this wildly popular series with relish and a little nostalgia. Broadcast from 1998 till 2004, Sex and the City was iconic. Its candid and witty depiction of four best friends and their love lives in New York City, complete with glamorous scenes and extraordinarily stylish costumes (designed by Patricia Field), earned this cable show more than 50 Emmy Awards and 24 Golden Globe Awards nominations. 

Carrie Bradshaw, played by the talented Sarah Jessica Parker (SJP), became the buzz of the fashion world for many years. Her iconic looks, on top of her many quirky insights on fashion, love and life made her a fictional style icon who stood the test of time. This year marks SJP’s 50th birthday, a bevy of fashion and dating blogs have commemorated this day by sharing once more, their favourite looks and quotes from the incomparable Miss Bradshaw and company.

Besides forming opinions on fashion and ogling at gorgeous designs ๐Ÿ˜› , I find myself simply inclined to write and bridge ideas. Writing is magical for bringing thoughts into clear perspective. I like to think of writing alike arranging a jigsaw puzzle: each piece is an idea that is linked to another; the writer works to give form and flow producing the complete picture. That is what drives my writing – I write to paint with words. 

This blog is my canvas, my sail, and little voice in the big wide world. It is through words that I’d find my way, to get to a place – where I can be as the wind: a free spirit doing what I love. And I blog simply because musing and writing are my simplest pleasures in life … just me, the pen and the notebook.

Building a tree house

Isn’t it every boy’s (and perhaps some girls’) dream to live in a tree house?

Would I not love to live in this dream house too?

Wish I had a dad, brother or boyfriend who would build me one to live in…

 

I came upon this amazing video in one of my favourite magazines, Smith Journal.

Their content is for the most part masculine; veering towards adventure, DIY, real stories of places, people and their crafts, hobbies and lives; in short, really meaty stuff. Think a strapping handsome cowboy on a black stallion, and a cool gun … whoa!! 

A book is in the works to document the building process of this tree house, quirkily named ‘The Cinder Cone’ by Foster Huntington, so many others could follow the dream.

Ah .. and when will I meet a prince who’d build me a castle in the trees?

How about you, reader? Tell me what you feel about tree houses ๐Ÿ™‚