the ongoing experiment

These black glasses have small holes that let in pinpricks of light. I don't know what they are supposed to be used for - I suppose, as glasses, or plastic-es - but they were lying around the house for some time.

Being bored on the one hand, and on the other hand suffering from intolerable headaches each time I wear my normal glasses, I decided to try this on. I suppose it acts like the compound eyes of flies. With these, I can face the computer screen from about the same distance as I do normally. (And considering each eye is about 1000 degrees blind, that is no mean feat for these glasses).

But enough of the raving.

I decided to try playing my cello with them. It is amazing how your experience alters once your sight is limited to pinpricks of light. The sounds came through so obviously- when normally I would be more occupied with getting ahead with the many notes. I couldn't see the notes (as always, because they are always written one size below readable level), so I had to memorise one or two bars at a time. And because I was too lazy to keep reaching for the score. I was compelled to nitpick on those bars for an incessant amount of time. Which is good. I hardly do that ever. Kinesthetically too, it was an interesting experience. You can feel the different muscles moving, the fingertips, the thumb, the tension in strangest places - and then you make a conscious effort to relax these one by one. The body feels heavier, weightier. (Fatter?!)

The sense of sight is overrated. Vision is valued, but it is also possible to be so preoccupied with what is to come, that the details of the moment are neglected. And what is life, but a collection of moments? WIthout sight, the other senses are completely engaged with completing the task at hand, it is harder to get distracted.

Since I was 4, I have been chasing after the perfect 6/6 vision with one pair of glasses after another. This time, before getting a new pair, I reckon maybe it is time to exploit my lack of sight and attempt to increase the acuity of the other senses.

(In the spirit of soaking in the half-blind moments, I have thus far attempted to wash the dishes, and realised I have to 'blind-proof' the sink's contents by emptying it of knifes and sharp objects. Also, I spent a good 15 seconds thereabout staring a a shimmering thing in the sink, which I found out, upon stretching my hand out and groping, was a glass.)

courage to the sticking point

(This is in relation to people we share love-hate relationships with).

It is so much easier to express anger and annoyance than affection. I reckon this has to do with the balance of power. When one is angry with another, it implies superiority. The Other did something wrong, or wronged you in some way, and expressing anger - explicitly or passive-aggressively - is a way of claiming reparations, placing you in the position of power.

Affection, on the other hand, is a tricky emotion to micromanage. Maybe because it might strike at the most unexpected time, leaving you reeling and wondering why it suddenly surfaced despite The Other being a total jerk, or maybe it leaves you wondering what to do next i.e. does that affection need to be translated into short- or long-term action. And because of the various permutations or possible consequences of affection, it is a confusing feeling. Confusion = lack of control = vulnerability. It leaves you open to the various demands The Other might make, demands that you may or may not be able to fulfil to The Other's satisfaction. And then what? (Possible feelings of inadequacy at the limited extent of what you previously perceived as boundless affection, perhaps.)

If you believe that attack is the best defense, then similarly, to be angry (in so doing making The Other atone for the transgression) is a good defense against the uncertainties of affection.

blame it on the rain

First the ring, and then in the space of 1 week, two of the black rubber bands I wear around my wrist for no particular reason snapped. If each symbolised a relationship, I cannot identify which one is it that still remains, because I have effectively sequestered myself from any social contact other than rehearsals and teaching.

Soon I'll make my way to buy some more, to replace the broken. (Not because they symbolise any particular relationship that I desire to reinstate; purely for aesthetic reasons.)

Hypothetically, if each did represent a relationship, finding more bands would mean reconnecting with the lost other, or building other new relationships. ('Relationship' as used here is to be understood in the generic sense i.e. platonic and/or otherwise.)

However, currently, all the battery juices have run out, and I cannot gather up enough energy to meet you or you or you. As much as I want to. And the unreplied smses accumulate at the back of my mind, but any sort of reply would sound too curt and dismissive - and so I turn off my phone and pretend I don't exist.

many ellipses

Had quartet masterclass today. For the uninitiated, it's where you play a piece and get constructive criticism from the String Masters. Our quartet seems to attract the cellist types. Our coach today was the cellist from the F. Quartet, and our normal coach is Leslie The Cellist.

Blogging about the thing is too boring, save to say that it was fun, we played too fast and too furiously. Now I'm squinting at the computer screen in a dark room, my stomach's growling manically, and I'm deciding whether or not to sleep, and the throat's hoarse from I dunno what - fried omelette?

Need sleep! This is such a random post. I will try to be more coherent the next time.

what I did on my free day

Taught for one hour.
Ate Ajisen Ramen with brudder and lamented on the falling food quality.
Esprit factory outlet-ed.
Bumped into a friend with her nieces and dad and maid.
Sloshed through puddles in the rain, iced coffee in hand.
Stopped to look at this fuschia pink, spiky ball of a flower.
Took so long to walk back that my wet clothes dried out in the process.

Ahhh, the life.

Thou ring on my finger

It broke today, into unequal halves (an oxymoron). A part of it glinted on the floor, the other half slipped onto the stand. I knew the break was coming - I noticed that it had cracked a few weeks ago, and it was just a matter of time.

The finger feels unfamiliarly light.

Rings supposedly symbolise eternity, this one apparently didn't get the memo.

I picked up the broken pieces and threw them away.

If only life were as easy to clean up.

surfing

After doing up the quartet blog, I thought that this blogskin really needed some updating considering how old and tired it feels (or at least I feel). Random skin surfing, I saw some really nice skins, but with too many links; others were too angsty, or too relationship-y, or just airhead-y. In short, there was nothing I saw that I liked, or was willing to use.

I figure blogskins can swing both ways - the totally non-descript standard templates you get with blogger, where you let the words do the talking, without the distraction of many pictures etc, or the ones with the many graphics and colours, behind which your personality can hide.

Blogskins are a projection of your personality, or your desired personality.

Currently, I am in a liminal zone where I don't know if I have a personality outside of my interactions and the things I do.

There are too many 'I's in this post.