I think I shall start blogging again.
*Walks into my Citadel*
Thursday, May 21, 2015
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Art
Tonight, I had an interesting exchange with several acquaintances on the fundamental nature of Art and I felt moved to write this. People always tell me Art is subjective, I think not. I have very concrete views on what is Art.
First of all, there seem to be an illusion that all forms of expression through a medium qualifies as Art. For example, any form of creative expression, be it through writing, acting, drawing, dancing, painting, designing etc, can be qualified as Art as long as it meets the criteria of (1) self expression. If we were to follow this logic, any form of self expression can henceforth be elevated to an Art form; such as my very deformed penguin drawings on DrawSomething are now on par with Picasso:
To ascertain if my penguins are work of art, I need only ask around: do others feel like it is a work of art? The answer will most likely be many many No-s, except for a few kind souls who might imagine my deformed penguins as cute. Juxtapose my very deformed penguins on DrawSomething with the exquisitely drawn paintings that garners tens of thousands of likes on DrawSomething, what is the difference? The difference is that those artists had skill and drew exceptionally well, capturing everyone's imagination and awe.
Thus, Expression itself is correlated but not causative to Art. Being able to express oneself does not automatically make that an art. Expression is one component of Art, and many people's perception get stuck there, believing any form of expression is equal to art. That is only half way there. Expression itself is a component of what Art is.
So if my deformed penguins are just expressions, then what is Art? Art would then be logically (1) expression + (2) skill.
Put simply: Artistry is the apex of any particular endeavor. Oftentimes, we hear, "He has elevated that to an artform." or "That is pure artistry." When someone says that, that is a compliment of the highest order to his craft and skill. We are moved by that person's ability as well as expression. Would anyone ever say "That dance is pure artistry!" when the dancer keeps tripping and making mistakes? He could be really crying emotionally, expressing himself on stage to the soulfulness of the music but he's out of rhythm and sync and his lines are all off. Can you bear to call that art? You would tell the dancer, "Hey you have potential, but please, go back practice some more."
Art is thus, achieved through the combination of expression and skills.
Let's take singing for example: without high level skills, singing could be just in the showers, infront of your PC's iTunes or at the KTV. Moving up the skill level, a singer might become competitive or friends/family really love to hear the singer sing at events. To be able to reach the level of singing, where the voice moves with emotions, telling a story, impacts the listener, bringing back past pains, sorrows, memories, joy and anger, that is Art. Have you not heard the difference between an awful teenybooper singer and a singer whose song brings back tears of breakups and heartaches? Are you willing to call Justin Bieber's songs, Art? No, it is merely an expression. Even those lyrics are skill-less.Think of a song that have moved you before and compare that.
If you sculpt, on the level of pure expression without skills, would probably be simply, a mould or whatever animal it is you are thinking of. Are those moulds art? No. They are simply an expression of your effort. Are they on their way to becoming art, yes! With skill and practice, they could be!
The great artists mould solid marble to look like soft velvet and flowing water, that is art and that is skillful expression!
If you draw, expression without skill would be akin to kids drawing, words painted on the floor/wall or deformed penguins. Progressing to the level where an artist can capture emotions, light, and details bringing the piece to life! To the point that the viewer is astonished with awe and inspiration! That is Art.
If you act, the first level of the expression of acting could be just high school skits. Moving on to dramas. Maybe the person becomes really really good, and with his acting skills, he made you believe in a character. He brought the character to life. That is the artistry of acting.That is expression plus skill.
So please, just because someone is expressing by drawing graffiti on the floor, that is not Art! That is just an expression. Until such time when said graffiti is accomplished by astonishing skill, we can safely elevate it to Art.
And...
Finally, one thing trumps Expression + Skill = Arts.
And that is...........
Reputation.
Once, you are a reputable artist, you can draw a circle on white and still sell it for millions. Once you have a reputation, you can get paid just for being you. But to get to being reputable, that requires.........Skill. ;)
First of all, there seem to be an illusion that all forms of expression through a medium qualifies as Art. For example, any form of creative expression, be it through writing, acting, drawing, dancing, painting, designing etc, can be qualified as Art as long as it meets the criteria of (1) self expression. If we were to follow this logic, any form of self expression can henceforth be elevated to an Art form; such as my very deformed penguin drawings on DrawSomething are now on par with Picasso:
To ascertain if my penguins are work of art, I need only ask around: do others feel like it is a work of art? The answer will most likely be many many No-s, except for a few kind souls who might imagine my deformed penguins as cute. Juxtapose my very deformed penguins on DrawSomething with the exquisitely drawn paintings that garners tens of thousands of likes on DrawSomething, what is the difference? The difference is that those artists had skill and drew exceptionally well, capturing everyone's imagination and awe.
Thus, Expression itself is correlated but not causative to Art. Being able to express oneself does not automatically make that an art. Expression is one component of Art, and many people's perception get stuck there, believing any form of expression is equal to art. That is only half way there. Expression itself is a component of what Art is.
So if my deformed penguins are just expressions, then what is Art? Art would then be logically (1) expression + (2) skill.
Put simply: Artistry is the apex of any particular endeavor. Oftentimes, we hear, "He has elevated that to an artform." or "That is pure artistry." When someone says that, that is a compliment of the highest order to his craft and skill. We are moved by that person's ability as well as expression. Would anyone ever say "That dance is pure artistry!" when the dancer keeps tripping and making mistakes? He could be really crying emotionally, expressing himself on stage to the soulfulness of the music but he's out of rhythm and sync and his lines are all off. Can you bear to call that art? You would tell the dancer, "Hey you have potential, but please, go back practice some more."
Art is thus, achieved through the combination of expression and skills.
Let's take singing for example: without high level skills, singing could be just in the showers, infront of your PC's iTunes or at the KTV. Moving up the skill level, a singer might become competitive or friends/family really love to hear the singer sing at events. To be able to reach the level of singing, where the voice moves with emotions, telling a story, impacts the listener, bringing back past pains, sorrows, memories, joy and anger, that is Art. Have you not heard the difference between an awful teenybooper singer and a singer whose song brings back tears of breakups and heartaches? Are you willing to call Justin Bieber's songs, Art? No, it is merely an expression. Even those lyrics are skill-less.Think of a song that have moved you before and compare that.
If you sculpt, on the level of pure expression without skills, would probably be simply, a mould or whatever animal it is you are thinking of. Are those moulds art? No. They are simply an expression of your effort. Are they on their way to becoming art, yes! With skill and practice, they could be!
The great artists mould solid marble to look like soft velvet and flowing water, that is art and that is skillful expression!
If you draw, expression without skill would be akin to kids drawing, words painted on the floor/wall or deformed penguins. Progressing to the level where an artist can capture emotions, light, and details bringing the piece to life! To the point that the viewer is astonished with awe and inspiration! That is Art.
If you act, the first level of the expression of acting could be just high school skits. Moving on to dramas. Maybe the person becomes really really good, and with his acting skills, he made you believe in a character. He brought the character to life. That is the artistry of acting.That is expression plus skill.
So please, just because someone is expressing by drawing graffiti on the floor, that is not Art! That is just an expression. Until such time when said graffiti is accomplished by astonishing skill, we can safely elevate it to Art.
And...
Finally, one thing trumps Expression + Skill = Arts.
And that is...........
Reputation.
Once, you are a reputable artist, you can draw a circle on white and still sell it for millions. Once you have a reputation, you can get paid just for being you. But to get to being reputable, that requires.........Skill. ;)
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Repriority
Sudden epiphany.
I think I would really like to be alone for the time being: devoid of all romantic obligations.
I just can't keep up with having to deal with managing other peoples' emotions.
Focus on work and gym.
That's that.
Wednesday, August 08, 2012
Narrow Path, Broad Walks
Narrow Path, Broad Walks
The mind is a cavern: it echoes in the frequency of your loudest thought.
There are two types of mindflow: minds that are awakened to the meaninglessness of Man-made labels and boundaries, and minds that are shackled by self-ward intelligence: saplings toiling to burst forth into the lightness of Being. Do not confuse intelligence with Wisdom or Compassion, the pillars of Enlightenment. Intelligence is what tells you homosapiens are divided into X amount of nations with Y amount of Z databits, but Wisdom and Compassion is what tells you all is Suffering and just shards of the same piece of mirror.
Some, professes Enlightenment, acting sufficiently intelligent enough to occur as such to those far deeper asleep, and yet, regarding matters of benevolence, compassion and wisdom, fail the very fundamental distinction of objective observation: that is, the ability to distinguish the parts of the Universe that is ultimately consummate with the Whole.
An Enlightened mind sees that all things under, above and within the Universe is intrinsically One. All is born of star-matter, and to star-matter we return. The capacity to see beyond the labels of skin colours, man-made geographical demarcations, time-woven divergence of geopolitical culture, of such infinite histories and infinite futures.
All dogma, all religions, all doctrines, all hate, all love, all rights and wrongs: creations of the shackled mind. Creations built from pieces of Others, coalescing into a single Self-Identity, filtered through the mind-prism of a non-existent experiential past. The Unenlightened is content to be angry, is content to feel angry and all that in between. They have relinquished control over the path of Enlightened. Everything is now, thus, wrong with the world, and never truly a cause for self-reflection. Someone is to blame, someone should had done it, someone is wrong, someone is not Me.
The accumulation of all that had passed, now sits all grandiose-like, on the canvas of the future, robbing the future of all possible space, for Love and Generosity of spirit. Spite and littleness of soul remains, as we filter our actions based on the trigger effects of juxtaposing what went wrong against what could now be. The future always seem wrong when viewed through the lenses of the past, and vice versus. Only viewing the Present as the Present can one be liberated.
The capacity to relinquish the clutches of intelligently-justified hate: the tools of the unenlightened. Such a potent tool, oft raging in the company of dreaming sycophants: bovines stroking bovine thoughts. It is alright to be angry and hateful if 1) there is herd consensus, 2) I can justify it. To be Enlightened requires no artful prose or intelligently argued hate: it only requires presentness of spirit, and bigness of compassion even inspite of justifiable anger. To be Enlightened requires the capacity to uncollapse localized events and blanket assumptions. To be Enlightened requires Empty and Meaningless. To be Enlightened requires Nothing.
So, with a bigness of Compassion so immense, yet covering no space: such a bigness that encompasses every single star-mote, every single star-speck, every single soul and moment of this Universe. By all means, pretend at enlightened compassion, but the real litmus test exist in the divergence of every single moment, down to the femto-moments of choosing the bigness of Wisdom and Compassion over the littleness and meanness of spirit.
The mind is a cavern: it echoes in the frequency of your loudest thought.
There are two types of mindflow: minds that are awakened to the meaninglessness of Man-made labels and boundaries, and minds that are shackled by self-ward intelligence: saplings toiling to burst forth into the lightness of Being. Do not confuse intelligence with Wisdom or Compassion, the pillars of Enlightenment. Intelligence is what tells you homosapiens are divided into X amount of nations with Y amount of Z databits, but Wisdom and Compassion is what tells you all is Suffering and just shards of the same piece of mirror.
Some, professes Enlightenment, acting sufficiently intelligent enough to occur as such to those far deeper asleep, and yet, regarding matters of benevolence, compassion and wisdom, fail the very fundamental distinction of objective observation: that is, the ability to distinguish the parts of the Universe that is ultimately consummate with the Whole.
An Enlightened mind sees that all things under, above and within the Universe is intrinsically One. All is born of star-matter, and to star-matter we return. The capacity to see beyond the labels of skin colours, man-made geographical demarcations, time-woven divergence of geopolitical culture, of such infinite histories and infinite futures.
All dogma, all religions, all doctrines, all hate, all love, all rights and wrongs: creations of the shackled mind. Creations built from pieces of Others, coalescing into a single Self-Identity, filtered through the mind-prism of a non-existent experiential past. The Unenlightened is content to be angry, is content to feel angry and all that in between. They have relinquished control over the path of Enlightened. Everything is now, thus, wrong with the world, and never truly a cause for self-reflection. Someone is to blame, someone should had done it, someone is wrong, someone is not Me.
The accumulation of all that had passed, now sits all grandiose-like, on the canvas of the future, robbing the future of all possible space, for Love and Generosity of spirit. Spite and littleness of soul remains, as we filter our actions based on the trigger effects of juxtaposing what went wrong against what could now be. The future always seem wrong when viewed through the lenses of the past, and vice versus. Only viewing the Present as the Present can one be liberated.
The capacity to relinquish the clutches of intelligently-justified hate: the tools of the unenlightened. Such a potent tool, oft raging in the company of dreaming sycophants: bovines stroking bovine thoughts. It is alright to be angry and hateful if 1) there is herd consensus, 2) I can justify it. To be Enlightened requires no artful prose or intelligently argued hate: it only requires presentness of spirit, and bigness of compassion even inspite of justifiable anger. To be Enlightened requires the capacity to uncollapse localized events and blanket assumptions. To be Enlightened requires Empty and Meaningless. To be Enlightened requires Nothing.
So, with a bigness of Compassion so immense, yet covering no space: such a bigness that encompasses every single star-mote, every single star-speck, every single soul and moment of this Universe. By all means, pretend at enlightened compassion, but the real litmus test exist in the divergence of every single moment, down to the femto-moments of choosing the bigness of Wisdom and Compassion over the littleness and meanness of spirit.
Friday, July 13, 2012
EXORCISM
Let the fingers go, all flowy-like, machinery-like,
Letter-stitching, words a-forming,
Light-speed moving -
Ego-busting,
Demon-slaying,
Worlds are clashing,
No-thoughts coming, All-thoughts going,
No ban, no sense, no haste, no waste,
No right, no wrong, no dust, no space,
No form, no shape, no name, no fate,
No pre-determined-alter-universal-space-redeemable-coinage,
No deletion, no correction, no teacher pointing,
No swearing! No cursing! No blame and no praise!
No up and no downs,
no style and no... ...case
No YOU, no ME, no HIM, no WAHAHAHA.
No understanding, no forgetting, no wonderment, no questioning,
No bewilderment, no stoicism, no half-cocked half-fuckedup heads,
When all that flows is faster than thought,
out of you, that river of wars
no change, disallowing that BACKSPACE key,
just let it go -
exorcise that inner beast!
An exercise, go type,
Nonsensical writes,
Go faster and faster,
faster and faster and faster and faster,
then, just shut up and and let that ego die.
Collecting the Dust
Collecting The Dust
Drawn into the dark,
Into the dark with Quiet at stake;
Just one more piece,
Just one more wish,
Go into the softness, away -
Away, o' Away to -
That porcelain place, o'
Starlight tiptoes across your half-drawn shades,
where;
Midnight drowns you on your half-empty bed,
and;
The noisiest Silence, drums in your half-empty head;
that half-empty head;
that half-empty bed;
that half-drawn shades...
My Mistake,
Passing through the dark,
Threading the dark with Mercy at bay,
Just one more kiss,
Just one more day,
Go into the abyss, away -
Drawn into the dark,
Into the dark with Quiet at stake;
Just one more piece,
Just one more wish,
Go into the softness, away -
Away, o' Away to -
That porcelain place, o'
Starlight tiptoes across your half-drawn shades,
where;
Midnight drowns you on your half-empty bed,
and;
The noisiest Silence, drums in your half-empty head;
that half-empty head;
that half-empty bed;
that half-drawn shades...
My Mistake,
Passing through the dark,
Threading the dark with Mercy at bay,
Just one more kiss,
Just one more day,
Go into the abyss, away -
Thursday, September 29, 2011
同花顺
要是你心里真的没我
你不会剪去了长发
闪动如蝴蝶在双颊 那是眼泪吗
转 （歌词转自 音魁网 www.inkui.com）
要是你心里真的有我
你不会嘴边无火花
静静观察 人世浮华 心已麻
网 （歌词转自 音魁网 www.inkui.com）
假如说钢铁磨成针 只要愿意等
只要肯爱得深
是不是就有这可能
有可能打动这铁石心肠的人
ｉ （歌词转自 音魁网 www.inkui.com）
可惜就算梦能成真 有谁猜得准
能分到多少福份
生命的同花顺 底牌没有你
我也认
（歌词转自 音魁网 www.inkui.com）
假如说温柔是谎话
你不会颠覆这想法
你撑着眼儿都不眨 是眼泪吗
（歌词转自 音魁网 www.inkui.com）
假如你真的放得下
你怎会一言也不发
漂泊天涯 苦苦挣扎 心已麻
你不会剪去了长发
闪动如蝴蝶在双颊 那是眼泪吗
转 （歌词转自 音魁网 www.inkui.com）
要是你心里真的有我
你不会嘴边无火花
静静观察 人世浮华 心已麻
网 （歌词转自 音魁网 www.inkui.com）
假如说钢铁磨成针 只要愿意等
只要肯爱得深
是不是就有这可能
有可能打动这铁石心肠的人
ｉ （歌词转自 音魁网 www.inkui.com）
可惜就算梦能成真 有谁猜得准
能分到多少福份
生命的同花顺 底牌没有你
我也认
（歌词转自 音魁网 www.inkui.com）
假如说温柔是谎话
你不会颠覆这想法
你撑着眼儿都不眨 是眼泪吗
（歌词转自 音魁网 www.inkui.com）
假如你真的放得下
你怎会一言也不发
漂泊天涯 苦苦挣扎 心已麻
Saturday, September 17, 2011
說好的幸福呢
你的绘画凌乱着
在这个时刻
我想起喷泉旁的白鸽
甜蜜散乱了
情绪莫名的拉扯
我还爱你呢
伴你断断续续唱着歌
假装没事了
时间过了走了
爱情面临选择
你冷了倦了我哭了
一开始的不快乐
你用卡片拭写着
有些爱只给到这真的懂了
怎麽了 你累了 说好的 幸福呢
我懂了 不说了 爱淡了 梦远了
开心与不开心 一一叙说着 你在不舍
那些爱过的感觉都太深刻 我都还记得
你不等了 说好的 幸福呢
我错了 泪干了 放手了 后悔了
只是回忆的音乐盒还旋转着 要怎么停呢
x2
怎麽了 你累了 说好的 幸福呢
我懂了 不说了 爱淡了 梦远了
我都还记得
你不等了 说好的 幸福呢
我错了 泪干了 放手了 后悔了
只是回忆的音乐盒还旋转着 要怎么停呢
Friday, August 26, 2011
逍遥
爱情真懊恼。
怎么会爱上一个完全不认识我的人？
为何爱一个人，却要逼自己做不想做的事？
爱一个人，却不能在一起。
为了忘记，得让他认为我不爱他。
为了忘记，得让他看到他不喜欢的东西。
缘分的轮廓中，为什么会有那么多误会?
那灯火烂煽处，影子的梦游仿佛穿插在弥漫之中。
我走，不是因为不爱。
我走，是因为他永远看不到我真正的爱。
缘分，断了，不能白头到老，不能相守终身，
爱他，爱的过火了。
再也不会了。
这一刻，
我决定了。
三世轮回，我也不会记得他的存在。
三世轮回的爱，以不在。
来生来世，
永不结缘，
回忆流去，
思念不留，
我们三生三世，修不得同船度，百世轮回，修不得共枕眠。
空了。
他，以不存在。
他，以消失了。
他，在也不重要了。
我心中的位子，把他放掉了。
我不记得了。
消灭了。
我走了。
空空荡荡地，让我逍遥得接受另一个人的爱了。
Monday, May 23, 2011
A City
No blue in sight, no quietly morose passerby,
The sky was a brilliant gray,
Mixed up in sandy grains of yesternight,
Coming down in deep, transparent pellets;
Pelting the pavements, dying in the millions,
Each a scream that no one heard,
Or perhaps you did, but seriously, who cared?
The cars did what they did,
Twisting this way and that, forever heading somewhere,
Though you wondered, where are they all going?
Though perhaps you could imagine,
That the World, the City, the Streets were empty,
Then perhaps, who knows, it wouldn't feel so lonely.
The rainy midnight hour,
No moon in sight, no insomniac or sleepwalker,
All hid from the burning of a million questions,
As the rain came slanting down across the streetlamps,
Blurring orange pools of lights,
Making wet a City that knew no contours,
Of the shape of a heart that was invisible,
Is invisible,
Is indivisible,
For the circumference of the City is known by your hands,
Dressing a multitude of colours that passed into the night,
That night,
As the words dropped away from the sky,
Melting across pavements,
As they made their way back into heaven.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Meaningless
give me colours,
beyond the moon,
give me sand,
give me breath,
and watch me dance:
atop a spiral,
beneath the waves,
within a bubble,
in outer-space:
beyond the moon,
beyond the sun,
beyond the quiet,
and when it's done:
I'll paint in shades;
of Sandcastles make,
a beating heart,
a meaningless date.
Tuesday, May 03, 2011
Deconstruction of My Constellations
He said,
Make peace,
With what? I retorted -
Perhaps, of
Brilliant Starshine, furthermost Constella:
Oh give it peace! For
Orion flirts with Andromeda
with passing nights and dying days,
the Vulpecula will have its ways,
Surely!
under diamond skies,
He said,
Don't cry,
For what? I answered -
Mayhaps, for
Easing Memories, innermost Constella:
Do not give it tears! If
Sorrow dances with Melancholia
with passing nights and dying days,
then Acceptance shall have its say,
Undoubtedly,
under diamond skies.
Reconfiguration
Under the mundane, rain-heavy sky - a wiry, half-lost whisper broke the masonry of silence, a wind-tossed susurration that echoed, against the nothingness, emptiness of this cityscape. Echoes: ill-defined, yet oddly melodious. This is a place of forgiveness, this is a place of vindication; an ambulatory figure cut a silhouette of pitch black, blackness, meandering with a gait that commanded a brilliant dose of hilarity, humorously ambivalent.
Such a theoretical figure, should we concur; like a hypothesis, if we infer - most likely, be without, significance, concluding in sentences unregulated by structures of decorum that insults your senses with passages of unrelenting vigor. He walks, dream-like, sleep-awake, a night-cold somnambulist, sleepingwalkingdreamingtalking, missinghatinglovingcrying; populates, a universe of immutable sorrow, swallowed by the mercy of a little-death, dead to the world in a realm of sand and rivers, for that eight hours.
The heart is mostly given to ghostly occupants but he keeps his own suite, and a drawing room. Thick curtains, brilliant noir, a shuttered existence. No light touches the table, unilluminating the table. A wispy dance of dust, a deadening silence, like dead, lovers.
Friday, August 20, 2010
on the Merlin Principle
Exorcising my thoughts,
So much had transpired that I do not know where to begin. Should I begin from the past: an unfurling of lazy memories nitpicked from the shores of my mind? Should I begin from the future: a rewinding of Time, as if all that could be, has been; or from this Presentness, an entropy of consciousness that permeates all your livings and your dyings.
I see the elegance of the work of transformation, and I see in it the calling of a Project that aligns itself to the conversation of humanity. I see the clear blue sky, adorned with infinitesimal antiquity, its nature unchangingly, as such, blotted by the passing of rainy dreams.
And I speculate: What kind of conversations would humanity have, should Suchness come to pass into our collective Being.
We grumble, gossip, gripe and groan against the weight of a livingness that extends beyond our interpretations of our experiences. We generate suffering that seeks to infect others by demanding the consensus of total Agreement. Some seek to spread lies and stories, some seekto sow suffering and pain, some for the right to make others wrong, whilst some to erect a canopy of illusionary worship over the free minds of Man.
Having distinguished the suchness of Language, I see that I am not beyond or below, neither with nor without, the experience of my Being. My freedom is in my experience, is in my choice, is in my flow and ebb and pointed dancing toes.
I create you in my creating, and I am created in your creating. The Universe stretches to the boundaries of my experience. A playground of an Infinite Universe, and all of space and time is Centered.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Puppy Mill
The Truth About Puppies:
When you purchase your cute, adorable, fluffy little puppy from the sterile, and sparkly clean front-desk of a pet store, this is what goes on behind in producing those puppies (these are images of breeding dogs kept in a puppy mill):
Note: All images remain the copyright of their owners and the Dog Mill Rehomers project. Unauthorized usage of these images will be pursued through legal channels.
These images are taken courtesy of our friend, Davis.
Permission has been obtained to use these images in this blog.
Three beautiful babies, yearning for attention.
Overused, underloved.
Yearning to get out..the world outside the cages is alien..
Before we came, this cage was their universe.
Imagine, if someone treated *YOU* like this..
Imagine: the suffering, the pain, the hopeless loneliness..
His imploring eyes say, "Food?"
Sad, lost eyes..
Yearning for company in his cold, lonely cell
Will I ever be loved?
A life of misery...suffering...endlessly...a life now controlled by fear
A life of suffering. No one loved her, or cared about her pain until we found her..
Sad, lost eyes : A tortured life spent in service to greed and avarice.
A world of dark, dank, hopelessness.
Elongated nipples from over-feeding without respite
Plagued by a battery of maladies, our volunteers work hard to bring comfort to them.
Nowhere to go, this was their living and their dying place
Their innocence betrays the immeasurable sadness of their stories.
A life of captivity..
Ticks and hunger were their constant companions..
Females start breeding at the tender age of 6 months or less.
The lack of care and concern is appalling.
Sleeping it off..
Pain and suffering...and they don't even know why.
Emptiness
So please, adopt your dog. Break the chain of supply and demand and alleviate some suffering from this world. Educate your friends. Be part of something bigger.
Resignation is her reality.
Filled with questions and wonderment: this baby follows our every move.
A once-beautiful dog, reduced to a shadow of it's former self
So please, adopt your dog. Break the chain of supply and demand and alleviate some suffering from this world. Educate your friends. Be part of something bigger.
Love,
Jun
Doggies need help!
The truth about Puppy Mills:
Please visit :
The Dog Mill Rehomers to find out how you can contribute!
Thank you!
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Out of the Ashes
the entry about Reality.What I Got.
Creation is Form and Relations. The vastness of the Universe - stretching beyond the edges of the known and seen, returns to the oneness that spawned our mortal and spiritual coils. The circumference of time knows no direction; bounding this eternal moment in a self-referential frame of timelessness. The relative passage of this Time entity dulls the majesty of Being, in response, the Observers (that would be us) concoct of stories: magnificent and belligerent, noble and delinquent; stitching together a reality built upon the cornerstone of superstitions and arbitration.
The tests of Reality fails. All senses lie. All reckoning fails at some point in time. Nothing is ultimately accurate when juxtaposed against the unknowable true physicality of the Physical World beyond our Self - past the boundaries of our Body.
A reality wrought of Agreements; a canvas of yes and nos, dos and do nots, right and wrong. Reality itself, remains untouched by observed agreements. True Physicality remains unchanged, yet context reshapes the Universe into brimestones and cherubs, domestic and foreign, us and them - eternally shifting : mercury-like.
The Agreement of Physicality creates Measure and Form. The colour of plants is agreed upon to be called Green. The greenish object is agreed upon to be called, a Plant. The person observing the green plant is agreed upon to be called a Biologist. The Biologist is agreed upon to be considered to be part of a race called the Homosapiens. Yellow is agreed upon to mean characteristics of its designation. A centimetre is demarcated by the agreement of metrics. Form and substance revolves tirelessly around the agreement of Relativity and is given measure, distance, physicality and identity by the agreement of Objectivity.
The Agreement of Law creates Order. A green light is agreed upon to mean move, a red light is agreed upon to mean stop. A white line on the black tarred road is agreed upon to mean : stay within this demarcation. A large moving object with four wheels and many seats (called the bus by many) is agreed upon to stop at its designated stop. A citizen is agreed upon by Law to not spit or urinate in public. A marriage is agreed upon to mean the merging of two distinctly separate persons.
The Agreement of Beliefs creates Religions of organised behavior.
The Agreement of Self creates Identity.
The Agreement of Physics gave birth to the Universe.
Consider then, that Language thusly is a function and causative element of our Fabric of Reality. Through Language, we are able to formulate Agreements, shaping our fundamental reality as we drape our understanding of it over True Reality. The context of a culture with no word for a coke bottle differs from a culture that produces it - the quicksilver-esque Fabric of Reality contours to fit the mind that perceives it. True Reality, however, remains unchanged. It is our Agreements that changes the preferred assumptions of our Reality.
What then, is Reality?
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Heart Sutra
I recite this to focus my mind, and dispel mindlessness. For you.
觀自在菩薩。行深般若波羅蜜多時。照見五蘊皆空。度一切苦厄。
揭帝，揭帝，般羅 揭帝，般羅僧揭帝，菩提僧莎訶。
Shariputra, all teachings (dharma) are empty of characteristics. They are not produced, not destroyed, not defiled, not pure; and they neither increase nor diminish. Therefore, in emptiness there is no form, feeling, cognition, formation, or consciousness; no eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, or mind; no sights, sounds, smells, tastes, objects of touch, or dharmas; no field of the eyes up to and including no field of mind consciousness; and no ignorance or ending of ignorance, up to and including no old age and death or ending of old age and death. There is no suffering, no accumulating, no extinction, and no Way, and no understanding and no attaining.
Because nothing is attained, the Bodhisattva through reliance on prajna paramita is unimpeded in his mind. Because there is no impediment, he is not afraid, and he leaves distorted dream-thinking far behind. Ultimately Nirvana! All Buddhas of the three periods of time attain anuttara-samyak-sambodhi through reliance on prajna paramita. Therefore know that prajna paramita is a Great Spiritual Mantra, a Great Bright Mantra, a Supreme Mantra, an Unequalled Mantra. It can remove all suffering; it is genuine and not false. That is why the Mantra of Prajna Paramita was spoken. Recite it like this: Gaté Gaté Paragaté Parasamgaté. Bodhi Svaha!
觀自在菩薩。行深般若波羅蜜多時。照見五蘊皆空。度一切苦厄。
舍利子，色不異空。空不 異色。色即是空。空即是色。
受、想、行、識，亦復如是。
舍利子，是諸法空相。不生，不 滅。不垢，不淨，不增，不減。
是故空中。無色。無受、想、行、識。
無眼、耳、鼻、舌、 身、意。
無色、聲、香、味、觸、法。
無眼界。乃至無意識界。
無無明。亦無無明盡。
乃至 無老死。亦無老死盡。
無苦、集、滅、道。無智，亦無得。
以無所得故。菩提薩埵。依般若 波羅蜜多故。
心無罣礙。無罣礙故。無有恐怖。
遠離顛倒夢想。究竟涅槃。三世諸佛。
依般 若波羅蜜多故。得阿耨多羅三藐三菩提。
故知般若波羅蜜多。是大神咒。是大明咒是無上咒 。是無等等咒。能除一切苦。真實不虛故。
說般若波羅蜜多咒即說咒曰：
Translation:
When Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara was practicing the profound Perfection of the Wisdom (prajna paramita), he illuminated the Five Appearances (skandha) and saw that they are all empty (shunya), and he crossed beyond all suffering and difficulty.
Shariputra, form does not differ from emptiness; emptiness does not differ from form. Form itself is emptiness; emptiness itself is form. So too are feeling, cognition, formation, and consciousness.
Shariputra, form does not differ from emptiness; emptiness does not differ from form. Form itself is emptiness; emptiness itself is form. So too are feeling, cognition, formation, and consciousness.
Shariputra, all teachings (dharma) are empty of characteristics. They are not produced, not destroyed, not defiled, not pure; and they neither increase nor diminish. Therefore, in emptiness there is no form, feeling, cognition, formation, or consciousness; no eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, or mind; no sights, sounds, smells, tastes, objects of touch, or dharmas; no field of the eyes up to and including no field of mind consciousness; and no ignorance or ending of ignorance, up to and including no old age and death or ending of old age and death. There is no suffering, no accumulating, no extinction, and no Way, and no understanding and no attaining.
Because nothing is attained, the Bodhisattva through reliance on prajna paramita is unimpeded in his mind. Because there is no impediment, he is not afraid, and he leaves distorted dream-thinking far behind. Ultimately Nirvana! All Buddhas of the three periods of time attain anuttara-samyak-sambodhi through reliance on prajna paramita. Therefore know that prajna paramita is a Great Spiritual Mantra, a Great Bright Mantra, a Supreme Mantra, an Unequalled Mantra. It can remove all suffering; it is genuine and not false. That is why the Mantra of Prajna Paramita was spoken. Recite it like this: Gaté Gaté Paragaté Parasamgaté. Bodhi Svaha!
Monday, June 22, 2009
Fuck You! Love, Us
Lily Allen made a song : and it has become the anthem for Anti-Homophobia across the world. Cool shit.
Take a gander - a message from across the world :
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Fuck You, Fuck You Very Very Much!
Look inside,
Look inside your tiny mind
Now look a bit harder
Cause we're so uninspired,
so sick and tired of all the
hatred you harbor
So you say
It's not okay to be gay
Well I think you're just evil
You're just some racist who
can't tie my laces
Your point of view is medieval
Fuck you (Fuck you)
Fuck you very, very much
Cause we hate what you do
And we hate your whole crew
So please don't stay in touch
Fuck you (Fuck You)
Fuck you very, very much
Cause your words don't translate
And it's getting quite late
So please don't stay in touch
Do you get,
Do you get a little kick out of
being small-minded?
You want to be like your father
It's approval your after
Well that's not how you find it
Do you,
Do you really enjoy living a
life that's so hateful?
Cause there's a hole where
your soul should be
Your losing control of it and
it's really distasteful
Fuck you (Fuck You)
Fuck you very, very much
Cause we hate what you do
And we hate your whole crew
So please don't stay in touch
Fuck you (Fuck You)
Fuck you very, very much
Cause your words don't
translate and it's getting
quite late
So please don't stay in touch
Fuck you, Fuck you, Fuck you,
Fuck you, Fuck you, Fuck you,
Fuck yooooou
You say
You think we need to go to war
well you're already in one
Cause it's people like you
who need to get slew
No one wants your opinion
Fuck you (Fuck You)
Fuck you very, very much
Cause we hate what you do
And we hate your whole crew
So please don't stay in touch
Fuck you (Fuck You)
Fuck you very, very much
Cause your words don't
translate and it's getting
quite late
So please don't stay in touch
Fuck you, Fuck you
Fuck you, Fuck you
Fuck you, Fuck you
smoke and dreams
Smoke and Dreams
William's birthday party forced an obligatory visit to the clubs on me: something which I had feared and avoided doing for years (I have residual gay Demophobia from my youth - where large crowds of gay people scare me), but ended up helpless to deny. The thorough inebriation of the self, made crystalline by such tinkering of the senses: bottles of champagne; imagine! An inept drinker; I lost my senses after but several cups ("you won't get drunk on champagne" - so I was told); rendering myself unable to perceive, nor comprehend the images and sounds around me.
I lost my digital camera, somewhere, sometime in that haze of night. I suppose I should be grieving, and yet here I am stubbornly believing that it will find its way back to me. There are certain people that I had wanted to meet, anticipatory, for the first time; yet the only memory that persists is of white beds and soft pillows.
I hope I didn't do anything silly last night.
I could really use some work on my alcohol tolerance level too.
Monday, June 08, 2009
Day 3 of the rest of my Life =]
Day 3
The first day of going vegetarian was benign enough.
Day two, however, was a challenge. From the moment of waking, I pondered - deeply, no less - the options available for breakfast. Drawing an utter blank, I dragged myself to the nearest convenience store and purchased several boxes of cereal (I finished one box in one sitting) and bread. Barely an hour later, I was hungry and had to drag myself to a mixed-vegetable-rice stall for sustenance.
As evening approached, I was tempted to have some vegetarian pasta home-delivered from pastamania, but my wise ol' brother suggested that it was unsustainable, and that if I were to persist down this path then I must seek a proper methodology (of finding vegan food). And so, I travelled a good 10minutes to find the NEAREST true vegetarian stall, but as luck would have it, it turned out that that particular Sunday was the 15th of the Lunar month. (Meaning that all lay-Buddhists will go vegan for the day)
After waiting for a good 45 minutes and almost fainting from hunger, I decided to F-it and reneged on my order and just got some vegetables and tofu from the local mixed-stuff rice.
30 minutes later, I met Serena and friends at market 85 for a small gathering...and all I could have were dumplings. Everyone asked why I was doing this. I had no good answer that would not make me sound silly. On retrospect, it does sound alittle silly; but I don't think I will give up just yet.
The entire day 2 was a disaster, jammed-packed with eclectic dietary choices that had no basis in nutritional science. I basically whacked and laid my hands on anything that wasn't meat (as I had no idea where or when my next food source is gonna come from).
I ate a freaking cheesecake at 11pm!! I would never, ever had done that pre-vegan!
And day 3 cometh, I feel lethargic and atad sickish. I do not know if this is because of my sudden no-meat crash diet or that perhaps I caught a bug - but I do feel truly under the weather right now.
Sigh.
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