29th September 2007
Saturday
my fear of losing the things I loved
I woke up late today. And I do mean late. I took a look at my handphone and saw that it was 6.20pm already. And I had a couple of messages asking if I was going for band today. By the time I read the message, band had already ended. So I just deleted the message.
During my fifteen hour slumber, I had a weird dream. Something that goes along the line of walking from a hotel to the airport with an extremely heavy backpack on my shoulders. I was walking to the brink of exhaustion. My legs refused to move and I had to struggle to take another step.
Somehow I made it to a hawker centre and met up with a busload of friends there. There, I realised my trumpets were swapped and I had a Bb trumpet (Yamaha Student model) and cornet (looked like a Besson cornet) in my bag that does not belong to me. So I went to a small wooden house that was still under renovation to look for a man who was holding on to my instrument. I found him and got back my instrument. Then I woke up.
Weird dream. But the dream sort of represented my desire to travel and my fear of losing the things I loved. I remember opening the backpack and finding it filled with books. Maybe it is a sign that I am being tied down by the education.
"Language of the subconcious - Dreams"
-Han Yong
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
A Solemn Mid-Autumn Festival
25th September 2007
Tuesday
Tired after a hard day of work
Mid-autumn festival is a traditional festival to celebrate the abundance of the summer's harvest. It is usually celebrated with mooncakes and pomelos being consumed. In recent years, lantern carrying has become popular with the children. And as such, the Mid-autumn festival has also been known as the Lantern Festival or Mooncake Festival particularly in Singapore and Malaysia.
The Mid-autumn Festival this year has a certain solemn mood to it. Maybe it is a sign of maturing. Or maybe everyone is just tired after a hard day of work.
Speaking of work. This job (the one mentioned in previous post) is really slack. Most of the time I was reading my book. And after lunch, we even had time to go out for a movie! What jobs can you find that allows you to roam about freely for 6 hours without restriction?
I have been neglecting my practices again. But free buzzing on my way home at night. I hope it counts as a bit of practice. Free buzzing is something that I still cannot control very well even after so many years of playing the trumpet. Also, I have not been attending band practices very regularly these days. I think this thursday after work I might just pop by Ngee Ann band again. Hopefully, at my current level, I will be able to enjoy the band practice like before.
Tuesday
Tired after a hard day of work
Mid-autumn festival is a traditional festival to celebrate the abundance of the summer's harvest. It is usually celebrated with mooncakes and pomelos being consumed. In recent years, lantern carrying has become popular with the children. And as such, the Mid-autumn festival has also been known as the Lantern Festival or Mooncake Festival particularly in Singapore and Malaysia.
The Mid-autumn Festival this year has a certain solemn mood to it. Maybe it is a sign of maturing. Or maybe everyone is just tired after a hard day of work.
Speaking of work. This job (the one mentioned in previous post) is really slack. Most of the time I was reading my book. And after lunch, we even had time to go out for a movie! What jobs can you find that allows you to roam about freely for 6 hours without restriction?
I have been neglecting my practices again. But free buzzing on my way home at night. I hope it counts as a bit of practice. Free buzzing is something that I still cannot control very well even after so many years of playing the trumpet. Also, I have not been attending band practices very regularly these days. I think this thursday after work I might just pop by Ngee Ann band again. Hopefully, at my current level, I will be able to enjoy the band practice like before.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Gratification in Rectification
24th September 2007
Monday
Monday blues... Not! Surprisingly, working with young kids are not that scary after all. And it really is easy money. Not exactly easy, but in comparison with the NJRC, this children's day special is considerably relaxing.
If you have not heard yet, I am currently working with the Singapore Science Centre for the Children Day special event. Everyday, hundreds of pre-school children and primary school children come through the doors of the annex building in great anticipation. And my job is to make sure that they get through the activities planned for them smoothly.
Trumpet playing has never been more gratifying. Ever since I started working seriously on my trumpet, each praise or remark has really made me beam with pride! Because I know I have work hard for each comment. Whether good or bad, it does not really matter. What matters is that the comment reflects truthfully on my progress.
Also, I went to the library again. But not to pay my fines (refer to previous posts). I went there to scour for new reads. And here am I to recommend a particular author by the name of David Ambrose.
This author is incredibly talented at twisting the storyline in various methods that blows you away completely with every turn that he makes. His books are short (about 300 pages) but the quality of it cannot be judged by the length of the story. Short, simple and direct. No lucridous attempts to spice up the story.
In short, David Ambrose is a writer whose works I would recommend for readers who like mystery, thrillers and works that challenge the limits of human imagination.
Ms Fish spent some time talking to me online yesterday. Topic mainly being second chances. And I would like to dedicate this section of my post to her (and also as a reminder to myself). The following materials are extracted from past entries written by me.
Monday
Monday blues... Not! Surprisingly, working with young kids are not that scary after all. And it really is easy money. Not exactly easy, but in comparison with the NJRC, this children's day special is considerably relaxing.
If you have not heard yet, I am currently working with the Singapore Science Centre for the Children Day special event. Everyday, hundreds of pre-school children and primary school children come through the doors of the annex building in great anticipation. And my job is to make sure that they get through the activities planned for them smoothly.
Trumpet playing has never been more gratifying. Ever since I started working seriously on my trumpet, each praise or remark has really made me beam with pride! Because I know I have work hard for each comment. Whether good or bad, it does not really matter. What matters is that the comment reflects truthfully on my progress.
Also, I went to the library again. But not to pay my fines (refer to previous posts). I went there to scour for new reads. And here am I to recommend a particular author by the name of David Ambrose.
This author is incredibly talented at twisting the storyline in various methods that blows you away completely with every turn that he makes. His books are short (about 300 pages) but the quality of it cannot be judged by the length of the story. Short, simple and direct. No lucridous attempts to spice up the story.
In short, David Ambrose is a writer whose works I would recommend for readers who like mystery, thrillers and works that challenge the limits of human imagination.
Ms Fish spent some time talking to me online yesterday. Topic mainly being second chances. And I would like to dedicate this section of my post to her (and also as a reminder to myself). The following materials are extracted from past entries written by me.
Do you believe in giving second chances to others? Do you believe in accepting second chances?
When a person gives you a second chance, it does not mean that everyone else has done the same thing.
If you insist on reading and re-reading the chapter that has ended, you will never discover what the next chapter has in store for you.
Even if wounds leave scars, they still heal.
"It is so much easier to run from the truth than face the truth."
-Han yong
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Crushed cockroaches can be applied to a stinging wound to help relieve the pain.
19th September 2007
Wednesday
"Hello, my name is 小强, how do you do?"
My schedule says I am supposed to meet Jun Sheng at Novena at 11.45am. My watch tells me I am at Seng Kang at 11.20am. My brain tells me I will be late. Again. Crap. I will try to make appointments at a later time. Any meetings before 1pm and I will most probably screw up and be late again. All thanks to a nocturnal lifestyle.
Just last night, I had another visitor who came uninvited. At about 3am, I saw something through the gap between my door and the floor. And a cockroach crawled in and made itself comfortable under my table. Why is there a cockroach in my house?! Not only was the cockroach in my house, the cockroach was in my ROOM. Damn. Of all places, my room. What if the cockroach decided to plop itself into my mouth while I was sleeping? The mere thought of it sends shudders down my spine. Cockroaches are one of the most revolting insects ever existed.
Anyway, the National Library Board sent me a letter. It was a really random thing as I had nothing to do with the NLB. So I opened the letter, not knowing what to expect. Then I saw it. A reminder for outstanding library fines. I shifted my attention to the figures printed on the letter and the total amount due was $1.50.
$1.50. And how does that amount to sending a letter reminding me to pay up? I mean, $1.50 can just cover the cost of the postage, paper and ink. Where is the logic in spending x dollars to get back x dollars? I suppose the next thing I will be finding in my letterbox will be a court summon for the $1.50 I owe.
Here is something which you guys might find interesting: Crushed cockroaches can be applied to a stinging wound to help relieve the pain.
Think ulcer. Figure that out.
"Pay your fines regularly."
-Han Yong
Wednesday
"Hello, my name is 小强, how do you do?"
My schedule says I am supposed to meet Jun Sheng at Novena at 11.45am. My watch tells me I am at Seng Kang at 11.20am. My brain tells me I will be late. Again. Crap. I will try to make appointments at a later time. Any meetings before 1pm and I will most probably screw up and be late again. All thanks to a nocturnal lifestyle.
Just last night, I had another visitor who came uninvited. At about 3am, I saw something through the gap between my door and the floor. And a cockroach crawled in and made itself comfortable under my table. Why is there a cockroach in my house?! Not only was the cockroach in my house, the cockroach was in my ROOM. Damn. Of all places, my room. What if the cockroach decided to plop itself into my mouth while I was sleeping? The mere thought of it sends shudders down my spine. Cockroaches are one of the most revolting insects ever existed.
Anyway, the National Library Board sent me a letter. It was a really random thing as I had nothing to do with the NLB. So I opened the letter, not knowing what to expect. Then I saw it. A reminder for outstanding library fines. I shifted my attention to the figures printed on the letter and the total amount due was $1.50.
$1.50. And how does that amount to sending a letter reminding me to pay up? I mean, $1.50 can just cover the cost of the postage, paper and ink. Where is the logic in spending x dollars to get back x dollars? I suppose the next thing I will be finding in my letterbox will be a court summon for the $1.50 I owe.
Here is something which you guys might find interesting: Crushed cockroaches can be applied to a stinging wound to help relieve the pain.
Think ulcer. Figure that out.
"Pay your fines regularly."
-Han Yong
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
19th September 2007
Tuesday
I have been "pang seh-ed" by my tutor! Kind of unexpected, but what can I say? "Oh it's alright. We'll arrange it for another day then." And so, my lesson for today has been put off till some other day. Not confirmed yet. Happy? Sad? Well, maybe just frustrated. For three weeks without a lesson with Smith, I have been looking forward to this lesson. I need comments and instructions on how to practice and improve. On the other hand, a reschedule of my lesson means that I have more time to practice! My scales are really not there yet. So does the pros outweigh the cons, or is it the other way round?
For the Philwinds and Boston Brass concert, I am supposed to help Shirin distribute tickets and collect money from the Philyouth people. So just now, I met up with her and received $308 worth of concert tickets. That might be peanuts to some of you out there, but to me, $308 is enough to make me cuss a month's worth of vulgarities. I better keep the tickets well. Losing it will be last thing I want happening.
Tuesday
I have been "pang seh-ed" by my tutor! Kind of unexpected, but what can I say? "Oh it's alright. We'll arrange it for another day then." And so, my lesson for today has been put off till some other day. Not confirmed yet. Happy? Sad? Well, maybe just frustrated. For three weeks without a lesson with Smith, I have been looking forward to this lesson. I need comments and instructions on how to practice and improve. On the other hand, a reschedule of my lesson means that I have more time to practice! My scales are really not there yet. So does the pros outweigh the cons, or is it the other way round?
For the Philwinds and Boston Brass concert, I am supposed to help Shirin distribute tickets and collect money from the Philyouth people. So just now, I met up with her and received $308 worth of concert tickets. That might be peanuts to some of you out there, but to me, $308 is enough to make me cuss a month's worth of vulgarities. I better keep the tickets well. Losing it will be last thing I want happening.
Booze beat the blues
18th September 2007
Tuesday
Late at night, early in the morning. What is the difference? Both refer to the same thing - the hour where the world sleeps. Everything is quiet. There is no disturbance in the still night save an occasional vehicle. But a shuffle breaks the tranquility of the night. Who goes there? One lone man walks down the road, paying no heed to the ghosts that haunt him.
Who is this man? What is he doing here at this hour? A bartender closing down for the night stares at this stranger in disbelief. There was something special about him. A deep sadness exuded from within him. A desolated soul, ready to tarnish anything cheery. But the man walks on, unhindered by the bartender.
Bus stops after bus stops he passed, with no destination in mind. It seemed as though his ghosts had possessed him. But how could that be? Ghosts of memories had no spiritual powers. Memories were just memories. Ghosts of the past have no say in the making of the present. And the man walked on, paying no attention to the minutes that were slipping into hours.
Dawn approaches steadily. The man was still walking. *Beep* Instinctively, he reached into his coat pocket and drew out his cell phone. 'One message received.' Carrying on with his aimless wandering, he absent minded-ly read the message.
With a nimble flick of his fingers, he slid the cell phone back into the coat pocket. He picked up his pace and headed off into the night, leaving behind a faint scent of alcohol and a ring he accidentally dropped.
After a whole evening of relaxing, I am finally back at home. My scales are not fully prepared, my method books are not photocopied, my Arban exercises are practiced only around two thirds or so, my buzzing exercises are not as fluent as I would like them to be. My lesson is tomorrow. So please tell me whether I am screwed, or I am screwed. I know I asked for it myself. I had the time, I had the practice venue. But I chose to do something else rather than practice. But I guess it is inevitable.
Without this much needed break, I will surely break. Finally I had my dose of booze to beat the blues. And also today's outing really brought back some ghosts of the past. Ghosts that I have been trying so hard to banish, especially these days. Thanks to Ms Fish, I made it clear to myself about some matters that I have been especially muddle headed about. Life should be much simpler from now on.
As for the above "narrative", as some would call it, I have no idea how it will be heading. Most probably it will end up in the trash can again along with my other "half-baked" ideas. But at least it is something to keep my mind on along with my trumpet.
"Ghosts of the past have no say in the making of the present."
-Han Yong
Tuesday
Late at night, early in the morning. What is the difference? Both refer to the same thing - the hour where the world sleeps. Everything is quiet. There is no disturbance in the still night save an occasional vehicle. But a shuffle breaks the tranquility of the night. Who goes there? One lone man walks down the road, paying no heed to the ghosts that haunt him.
Who is this man? What is he doing here at this hour? A bartender closing down for the night stares at this stranger in disbelief. There was something special about him. A deep sadness exuded from within him. A desolated soul, ready to tarnish anything cheery. But the man walks on, unhindered by the bartender.
Bus stops after bus stops he passed, with no destination in mind. It seemed as though his ghosts had possessed him. But how could that be? Ghosts of memories had no spiritual powers. Memories were just memories. Ghosts of the past have no say in the making of the present. And the man walked on, paying no attention to the minutes that were slipping into hours.
Dawn approaches steadily. The man was still walking. *Beep* Instinctively, he reached into his coat pocket and drew out his cell phone. 'One message received.' Carrying on with his aimless wandering, he absent minded-ly read the message.
With a nimble flick of his fingers, he slid the cell phone back into the coat pocket. He picked up his pace and headed off into the night, leaving behind a faint scent of alcohol and a ring he accidentally dropped.
After a whole evening of relaxing, I am finally back at home. My scales are not fully prepared, my method books are not photocopied, my Arban exercises are practiced only around two thirds or so, my buzzing exercises are not as fluent as I would like them to be. My lesson is tomorrow. So please tell me whether I am screwed, or I am screwed. I know I asked for it myself. I had the time, I had the practice venue. But I chose to do something else rather than practice. But I guess it is inevitable.
Without this much needed break, I will surely break. Finally I had my dose of booze to beat the blues. And also today's outing really brought back some ghosts of the past. Ghosts that I have been trying so hard to banish, especially these days. Thanks to Ms Fish, I made it clear to myself about some matters that I have been especially muddle headed about. Life should be much simpler from now on.
As for the above "narrative", as some would call it, I have no idea how it will be heading. Most probably it will end up in the trash can again along with my other "half-baked" ideas. But at least it is something to keep my mind on along with my trumpet.
"Ghosts of the past have no say in the making of the present."
-Han Yong
Friday, September 14, 2007
Lovely Pictures on the Bay
14th September 2007
Friday
Lovely Pictures on the Bay
SSO played Pictures today. (SSO stands for Singapore Symphony Orchestra and Pictures is just short for Pictures at an Exhibition) They did quite well for the piece. Just that the sound texture was not quite to my liking at parts. But overall, a pretty impressive performance. Intonation problems from the first two pieces were pretty much solved.
I managed to haul my trumpet over to Windworks a couple of days back and Yoke Lim inspected my instrument and the problematic valve cap. The fault turn out to be one on the manufacturers part. But after some knocking, the cap can now be easily removed and replaced.
Yesterday, Norain said my sound changed! That line really made me feel better. And also motivated. Although my stamina is still incomparable to before I changed embouchure, knowing that my sound is better really cheers me up and gives me strength to carry on down this path. Anyway, band rehearsals really help build up stamina. Although ultimately, individual practice is most productive.
Enough said. My DVDs and games are waiting for me. (:
"Distractions are part and parcel of life"
-Han Yong
Friday
Lovely Pictures on the Bay
SSO played Pictures today. (SSO stands for Singapore Symphony Orchestra and Pictures is just short for Pictures at an Exhibition) They did quite well for the piece. Just that the sound texture was not quite to my liking at parts. But overall, a pretty impressive performance. Intonation problems from the first two pieces were pretty much solved.
I managed to haul my trumpet over to Windworks a couple of days back and Yoke Lim inspected my instrument and the problematic valve cap. The fault turn out to be one on the manufacturers part. But after some knocking, the cap can now be easily removed and replaced.
Yesterday, Norain said my sound changed! That line really made me feel better. And also motivated. Although my stamina is still incomparable to before I changed embouchure, knowing that my sound is better really cheers me up and gives me strength to carry on down this path. Anyway, band rehearsals really help build up stamina. Although ultimately, individual practice is most productive.
Enough said. My DVDs and games are waiting for me. (:
"Distractions are part and parcel of life"
-Han Yong
Monday, September 10, 2007
10th September 2007
Monday
Life is short. I recall a conversation I had with a taxi driver. He said something which I really agreed. Life is short. We spend our whole life studying and working. And before you know it, Mr Death is knocking on your door. Death is not a fearsome thing. At least to those suffering, death is a way out. A final sigh of relief as the pain ends. A detachment of the soul from the physical pain that the body goes through.
A friend of mine has had his direct relative passed away recently. I went to the wake just now. Despite the loss that he has experienced, he seemed strong and controlled. Kudos to the strength he shown.
Anyway, my instrument is kind of fucked up. Tomorrow I have to bring it for servicing. This is what happens when you fail to nip the problem in the bud. Small problems eventually evolve into bigger problems and give rise to more issues. Lesson learnt.
Looking forward to the day where I can perform with ease again. But till that time, I pray that I will be blessed with the discipline to follow a strict practice routine.
On a random note, try and find the Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" and listen to it. It really is a nice song.
"Each Man has one attempt at life."
-Han Yong
Monday
Life is short. I recall a conversation I had with a taxi driver. He said something which I really agreed. Life is short. We spend our whole life studying and working. And before you know it, Mr Death is knocking on your door. Death is not a fearsome thing. At least to those suffering, death is a way out. A final sigh of relief as the pain ends. A detachment of the soul from the physical pain that the body goes through.
A friend of mine has had his direct relative passed away recently. I went to the wake just now. Despite the loss that he has experienced, he seemed strong and controlled. Kudos to the strength he shown.
Anyway, my instrument is kind of fucked up. Tomorrow I have to bring it for servicing. This is what happens when you fail to nip the problem in the bud. Small problems eventually evolve into bigger problems and give rise to more issues. Lesson learnt.
Looking forward to the day where I can perform with ease again. But till that time, I pray that I will be blessed with the discipline to follow a strict practice routine.
On a random note, try and find the Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" and listen to it. It really is a nice song.
"Each Man has one attempt at life."
-Han Yong
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Feeling hopeless
9th September 2007
Sunday
Time never waits
I wanted to do a long post. Something which will truly reflect my emotions over these past few days. But I decided against it. Time is running out for me. There is so many things I need to do, but so little time left. Nothing good will come out of reminiscing.
Time. I have never been so bothered by it until now. Now, I know the frustration and hopeless feeling of racing against it. Time never waits. The seconds tick away, slowly but surely. Draining away life and hope. Every man which races against it will lose. But it is what each man does during the race that matters.
For now, I will just concentrate hard on the hurdles set right in my path.
"For wete you well the tyde abydeth no man"
Sunday
Time never waits
I wanted to do a long post. Something which will truly reflect my emotions over these past few days. But I decided against it. Time is running out for me. There is so many things I need to do, but so little time left. Nothing good will come out of reminiscing.
Time. I have never been so bothered by it until now. Now, I know the frustration and hopeless feeling of racing against it. Time never waits. The seconds tick away, slowly but surely. Draining away life and hope. Every man which races against it will lose. But it is what each man does during the race that matters.
For now, I will just concentrate hard on the hurdles set right in my path.
"For wete you well the tyde abydeth no man"
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