Please know that I’m rooting for you, always!
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Things I consumed in November and in the weeks before Christmas
Two thrifted rings. A casual stroll around SCBD led me to a thrift market, where I stumbled upon two cute rings at unbelievably bargain prices. Met some awesome thrift vendors and swapped deets on Instagram. Despite my own thrift store (:p) being temporarily on pause, the satisfaction of reviving old clothes through alterations and gifting them to delighted nieces was kinda source of pride.
Multivitamin + fever medicine infusion twice a week thank you very much. The lengths we go for health, pfft.
JICAF: Came with Kania and Angga to see this exhibition of multi-dimensional illustration works by local and SEA illustrators. Really enjoy to see the vibes among the artists and visitors, hehe. We take for granted the works that we see digitally on the screen, no matter how simple or complex they are visually, stemming from the skill of craftsmanship.
Joyland: Marked my return to music festivals after what felt like an eternity. Fleet Foxes was the primary allure. Navigating the vast festival grounds and the sea of concertgoers was a no-go, given my preference for the intimacy of indoor concerts. Nevertheless, a strategic late arrival proved to be a quite game-changer—chill vibes and no post-festival fatigue (thanks, body, for the ongoing recovery). Shoutout to The Beths for stealing the show as the band that performed before the main performer; I’ve been hooked ever since. I’ve decided it’s my end-of-year anthem.
Stickerszzzzz. Lol, yes… reviving another childhood hobbies. I distinctly remember that having scented chocolate stickers or ones with fur texture, especially in the shape of animals would be seen as someone well-off haha. I recently ordered cool Philatéliste stickers set created by Rendy Kusuma to celebrate restarting my French classes. Some time ago, I also collected super awesome stickers created by Ruby, Riri’s baby. And, of course, anything related to Christmas is an instant win for me. Currently anticipating the arrival of my blank sticker book and my Amazon orders.
Books: Currently in an era where I read several books simultaneously rather than reading one book from start to finish before moving on to the next.
- Queers Shoot Back It feels like a stern yet informative lecture, most likely because of the layout and how the book was printed. Yet, it’s perhaps fitting for someone still exploring the vast realm of queer topics like me.
- Seorang Pria yang Melalui Duka dengan Mencuci Piring. The reason why my shrink is so awesome. His book feels like a pat on the shoulder, light yet very warm.
- The Hired Man. This book has me hooked from the very first page—you know when you’re reading a book and it’s like whoa, this is the kind of story I really like haha. Let’s see where it takes me.
Rambutan Rapiah. Indulging in three packs of them in one sitting has become my guilty pleasure. I even chat every supermarkets around my place to inquire about their stock. Don’t mention other types of rambutan, not even for comparison. Slightly swollen lips from the sap—totally worth it!
Fleet Foxes. Singling them out for a separate mention because, well, where do I even begin? I screamed at the top of my lungs when they played “He Doesn’t Know Why” Their self-titled album in 2008 truly serves as a silent witness to my melancholic moments in Bandung. Just missing Meadowlark, Oliver James, and Wading in Waist-High Water to complete the experience.
Muscat Grapes. Because I witnessed a colleague effortlessly munching on them during calls. It’s now a newfound favorite!
Hogwarts Mystery. Just because.
Christmas Puzzle. Just because.
The “Things I Consumed” are inspired by the newsletter “Maybe Baby” by Haley Nahman but in a ((ehem)) much lighter version. I adore her writing (….and she just made a human, eekkk! 🙂
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Unlived Lives: Robin Ellacott
Robin had undergone three relocations in as many years. Her first move occurred after marrying Matthew, and together, they rented a splendid house in an upscale neighborhood, courtesy of Matthew’s substantial income. After their separation, Robin had depleted her resources due to the expenses of the divorce process, and one of her savings was tied up during the proceedings. Robin found solace in sharing a flat with a delightful queer actor, where their friendship played a significant role in Robin’s mental healing during the challenging divorce process.
Initially, Robin had intended to continue living in the flat, cherishing the support and companionship her roommate provided. However, due to a sensitive case she was handling, she hesitated to expose her work-related risks to her roommate, suspecting she might be under surveillance. Reluctantly, she made the decision to find a new place, eventually leading her to her current apartment.
Despite her efforts to settle in, Robin struggled to feel at home. Adapting to new environments always made her anxious and uneasy. This discomfort was exacerbated by living alone for the first time in a long while, the last instance being during her college years in a dormitory. She longed for a sense of peace and freedom, knowing it might take some time to achieve. The ongoing construction in the building next door added to her distress. Trees had been relocated, leaving the area around her building looking more barren and significantly dustier than usual.
The construction next to her apartment was bothersome, especially since some trees had to be relocated, further contributing to the barren appearance of the surroundings. The ongoing dustiness was also a nuisance, prompting Robin to consider calling Mrs. Tawney, her cleaning lady. The night before, Mrs. Tawney had messaged Robin, inquiring if she needed cleaning services this week, as she would be out of town over the weekend, offering assistance just in case Robin required it.
“This place totally feels like a college guy’s dorm, Robs,” said her older brother when he visited one day., chuckling at the familiar atmosphere.
With only two more nights in her surveillance schedule for the week, Robin anticipated having enough energy to tackle her biweekly apartment cleaning routine.
“I can manage it on my own this week, Mrs. Tawney. Thanks for checking. See you in a few weeks,” she typed into the chat.
After reviewing her case notes and photographs, Robin decided to take a short break and enjoy the biscuits and coffee she had prepared a few hours ago, quickly glancing at the time on her phone screen.
Tsk.
She should have left for the museum ten minutes ago.
—
Robin stood in the dimly lit hall of the museum’s art stockroom, gazing at the stack of artworks that seemed to be resting in the subdued space after such a long period of needing to dazzle visitors, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging. She remembered when her detective partner, Cormoran Strike, first left this case file on her desk. She knew he had taken on the case without much consideration or further consultation with the team, even though it was in the midst of a pile of cases being handled by the agency, because he knew Robin would be interested in this case.
Their client is a family conglomerate oil and gas businessman who has suspicions that there is an art forgery network operating under the guise of restoration in several museums where he acts as a patron. He also suspects that there may have been an exchange of counterfeit artworks within the national museum’s collection as a result of this forgery. Robin has been busy reconnecting with old contacts in the art world for consultations and to learn more about art dealers in London. One of them is a former college friend who has become a curator and art researcher she greatly admires. Although initially confused and disbelieving when he found out that Robin is now a private detective, he wasn’t too surprised.
‘I suppose you don’t exactly fit the typical image of an art school graduate.’ he remarked.
True, Robin thought to herself. Her style in school was much duller compared to her fellow art students on campus, unlike most others. Her social circle was different too. Despite being a promising student, she constantly believed she lacked the actual talent of her artsy friends, preferring to remain a tourist in the art world. In her view, it was always more enjoyable that way.
After consulting with her curator friend, Robin discovered several intriguing facts about The Brontë Museum, one of the museum networks being investigated by the agency. From the stockroom, she walked towards one of the corridors to make a phone call to one of the contractors to follow up on a few matters. Faint sounds of visitors could be heard on the ground floor, where the main exhibition room was located. Tomorrow being the Summer Bank Holiday, it was understandable that the museum was bustling with visitors, especially considering the weather wasn’t as gloomy as it had been yesterday.
Robin decided to visit the office on the top floor. The workspace was located in the museum’s most captivating corner, bathed in natural light and offering a lovely view of the street. She could see some staff members preparing for next month’s exhibition. One of the interns she spoke to was a product design graduate who had been previously interviewed by Strike. She was a tall woman with an athletic physique and a strikingly attractive face. Robin wondered whether she was also a model alongside her work at the museum, then wondered whether wondering this was offensive.
‘I thought he came across as rude from the articles I read in the tabloids, but he’s surprisingly charming, isn’t he?’ she said, clearly impressed.
Robin responded with a smile, choosing to address the topic gracefully.
Despite her efforts to push aside her thoughts and feelings lately, especially after the incident at the Ritz, she knew the boundaries. Yet, in quiet moments, when she allowed herself to acknowledge the truth, her heart fluttered with an emotion she was both afraid to confront and unable to deny. Of course, she didn’t know what the consequences would be this time.
—
Robin decided to ask Ryan to pick her up at the office. She was happy as she arrived at Denmark Street with a positive feeling about the progress of her case. She made her way to the inner office, where Strike was waiting.
‘Fancy updating me before you leave?’ said Strike, checking his watch.
He knew Robin was due to take some long-overdue leave today.
‘Unless you need to get going?’
‘No, I’m waiting for Ryan,’ said Robin. ‘I’ve got time.’
Strike closed the door.
‘Are you alright?’ Robin asked.
‘What?’ said Strike, though he’d heard her. ‘Yeah. I’m fine.’
Strike and Robin had once before sat in this office, after dark and full of whisky, and he’d come dangerously close to crossing the line between friend and lover. He’d felt then the fatalistic daring of the trapeze artist, preparing to swing out into the spotlight with only black air beneath him, and he felt the same now. This time, he was going to tell her that he fell in love with her.
—
Four months later.
The old Land Rover rumbled along the deserted snow-covered road, its headlights cutting through the winter darkness. Inside, Robin sat bundled up, a hood pulled over her head to shield against the cold. She clutched a thermos of hot tea and resisted the temptation to devour the contents of the biscuit box in the driver’s seat. She was fully immersed in her undercover role for the case.
As she sipped her tea, a soft smile played on her lips as she gazed at the distant silhouette approaching her vehicle. The figure walked purposefully through the snow, heading towards Robin’s Land Rover.
He looks a few stones lighter. But he seems healthy, which is good. Robin thought.
The door creaked open.
“Hi,” Strike greeted, a smile lighting up his face.
“Hi,” responded Robin, mirroring his smile. “Want some biscuits?”
Smiling, Strike chuckled, “Give me a hug first.”
The “Unlived Lives” series represent short fiction of the roles that might have been destined for me in an alternate dimension, purposes I believe were meant to be mine but remained unfulfilled in the present life.
Read the first series here: Unlived Lives: Art Curator
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Original Image Credits:
www.gibbesmuseum.org, www.travellemming.com, www.commons.wikimedia.org. All images undergo editing processes.
Notes on Character Names:
Robin Ellacott and Cormoran Strike are characters crafted by the British author Robert Galbraith, a pseudonym employed by J.K. Rowling. All rights reserved. And also, the conversation in part three is heavily extracted from the last chapter of Book 7, The Running Grave. 🙂
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Shifting Tides
There’s a less-talked-about reality that hides beneath the surface of being an adult—a bit like a graveyard of friendships chilling in the corners of our minds. This hidden space holds memories of past birthdays, couples’ trips, inside jokes, familiar food orders, and the tunes of our favorite songs.
One essential lesson often seems to be missing: the unwritten guide to dealing with the mysterious endings of friendships. It’s not about feeling mad or resentful, but more like encountering an unexpected gap, where the departures leave us with unspoken lessons. Sometimes, people exit our lives without much notice, relationships slowly fade, and some friendships are only meant for a certain season.
While we have rituals and formulas for processing the loss of a romantic breakup, when it comes to the end of friendships, we are left unmoored in our grief. Dr. Kenneth Doka calls this experience “disenfranchised grief,” which “cannot be openly acknowledged, socially mourned or publicly supported.” – an article on Forbes
In the quiet moments when we’re lost in thought, our minds revisit those who once played starring roles in our stories. They’re frozen, posing questions we might never answer: Do they still take their coffee the same way? Do they ever think of me when it’s my birthday, when they have exciting news, when my favorite songs come on the radio? Are they aware of the milestones I’ve reached, and do they wonder about the ones I’ve missed?
Marriage and parenthood often serve as profound turning points, reshaping the dynamics of our social circles. The connection forged with a life partner brings about shifting priorities that may lead to a reevaluation of friendships. Conversations may shift from spontaneous adventures to discussions about family commitments. And we learn to appreciate the transient nature of relationships, understanding that each chapter may bring both farewells and new beginnings.
The memories from way back when? They’re not creepy ghosts hovering around; more like these chill reminders of how human connections are all over the place—constantly changing, here one moment, gone the next, and sometimes hitting you right in the feels with their short-lived magic. 🌟
(((SCREAM)))
Look at these babies!!!
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The luminous stillness that resides within.
Waking up to the fear of losing momentum, coupled with the knowledge that the issues at hand demand persistent attention, creates a delicate balance. It’s a contemplative phase where they find themselves at a crossroads, torn between the fatigue of repetition and the responsibility to stay engaged. Navigating this middle ground requires a nuanced understanding of self and cause.
Activism, much like any journey, is not a linear path but a series of evolving challenges. It necessitates intentional efforts, creative approaches, and an unwavering commitment to effecting change — even if it begins with a transformation within oneself.
I do wish I could be more of my old chaotic self, to express my playful and bubbly side more and not be afraid to be judged for it. Other than that, I usually affirm myself that I am right where I need to be and everything that I need to know or do will always come my way at the exact moment it should. So there is never a lack in the present moment. Everything has a right place and time.
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Thoughts that crossed my mind today.
- I’m amazed when reading such comprehensive social media strategy documents; I wonder if the designers can really execute it and translate it into actual results, impact, or sales, or if they just enjoy creating such lengthy documents.
- The sambal (spicy sauce) from any warung that sells Kalasan-style chicken fried always tastes delicious.
- I found myself lost in thought, thinking that seeing LCD Soundsystem perform live might not be that much fun. Is it really necessary to have a song like “Oh Baby” performed by eight people, with 3 or 4 synths, each on stage playing a tiny role while nodding along slowly?
- I feel like I could report the obnoxious racing car that usually tears through the housing complex around the same time.
- This morning, (finally!), there was an orange tabby cat that lingered in front of the house for a long time. While keeping me company during breakfast, I repeatedly thought that cats truly play in nurturing and sustaining my mental well-being. 🤍🟠🤍
- Oh how I fervently wish for the once-in-a-lifetime joy of watching “The Curse Child” in Melbourne to grace my life again, or maybe just a watered-down 50% version next March. And as for my failed attempts at saving money this month, let’s just say my piggy bank and I are in cahoots, giggling.
- I gotta hustle and put together a list of new reads, like, pronto.
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10 Things I Consumed in October
1. “Running Grave” by Robert Galbraith. October kicked off with a literary escape amidst the chaos of work event preparations. The book instantly became my favorite among the previous 6 books in the series, which I thought would be difficult to surpass Troubled Blood’s position.
2. Inpepsa. The dreaded acid reflux, a reminder to take a breath. I found myself laughing in the face of acidity, realizing that self-care can be as simple as a morning walking routine. D’oh.
3. Black Holes – The Edge of All We Know. Oh, watching those theoretical physicists decode the black holes was a real riot. Crunching numbers like it’s child’s play, naturally, it had me questioning my own IQ. Watching them work was almost as entertaining as imagining myself doing the same… in an alternate universe, of course.
4. Extensive Google Search on aluminium window frames. Picture this: me, frantically clicking away, attempting to decipher the secrets of window frames like my life depends on it. Yeah, maybe I dream of having a house, but the whole fuss about furnishings, decorating, or interior design? Noooooo…. (turns out I don’t really care anyway).
5. Niyom. A colleague’s visit to Jakarta introduced me to this Thai jeans brand. The cutting looked super nice on her, also leaving me wondering why such quality is not readily available in local Indonesian brands. Can’t wait for my package to arrive.
6. Jakarta Fashion Week. Thanks to Sare – Andam, it was my first time attending such event. Oh, I was so smitten by the Douche show. Given my old obsession with Madonna’s Ray of Light era (I have vivid memories of my elementary friend Claudia memorizing the Frozen’s lyric for our singing exam, lol), I was totally mesmerized when I heard Shanti/Ashtangi playing after ages. And I think I need a couple of pieces from the collection ASAP. *smile* That day also gave me a chance to have some real talk with my art school buddies, diving into deep topics like the quality of sleep among art grads. *eye-rolling*
7. Shori’s Beef Sukiyaki. Indulging the simple joys of savoring delicious food (and a hot date!).
8. Pilates Re Bar. Trying out a new pilates studio within walking distance from my home marked the beginning of appreciating local facilities. Still trying to make all of these feel homey though. It’s still a bit challenging.
9. A normal broom. After a detour into the world of marketing hype, I returned to the simplicity of a normal broom stick. Sweep away both dust and unnecessary complications yes please.
10. My Staccato ballet flats got a second life with a quick tweak. And I’ve been enjoying the abundance of adorable visuals of sweet bows on social– they’re all the rage now.
It’s been quite a gloomy month, to be honest, with all the madness happening in the world. But hey, I turned 38, and hey, when the right moment hits, I’m gonna write about my love for Chandler Muriel Bing, one of my all-time favorite friends.
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Sarbini Fairy
AURORA
Balai Sarbini, Jakarta, February 2023
An evening that whispered a gentle magic.
Between songs, she spoke in soft, thoughtful tones. Her connection with the audience was palpable, and I felt as if she were speaking directly to the introvert in me, reassuring me that my way of experiencing the world was just as valid as any other.
As I sat there, bathed in her music, I couldn’t help but reflect on the choice of venue. Balai Sarbini, considerably smaller than most indoor venues, had transformed into a space of intimate magic that night. It had become a cocoon of tranquility, wrapping us in a sense of closeness that I hadn’t expected from a venue that I last visited when I was still a teenager.
“She looks like a fairy, doesn’t she?”, said Rob.
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WAR Paradoxes – Class Notes P.2
“JUST WAR” – Bellum Iustum
Key thinkers: St. Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, Hugo Grotius
is a body of thought developed by philosophers and theologians (especially Christian) as an effort to uphold the values that:
- Taking human life is seriously wrong.
- But war can be justified in certain circumstances to protect the innocent and defend important moral values.
So, the concept is paradoxical because there are relative moral values that become absolute. Killing is a sin, but killing in war is not a sin.
⚠️ Spoiler Alert ⚠️ Wars are always unjust.
The theory of ‘Just War’ was born to assess when war can be justified and how one can wage war justly. All of its criteria must be met for a war to be deemed just.
Jus ad bellum (“law to go to war”)
Deals with the reasons and justification for the use of force (for going “to” war).
Jus in bello (“law/conduct in war”).
The real “Laws of War.” Deals with the conduct of war once engaged.Jus ad bellum (“law to go to war”)
• Just cause: self-defense, against aggressors, stopping genocide.
• Right intention: not for self-aggrandizement.
• Last resort, truly the last option after all peaceful efforts have been exhausted.
• Legitimate authority: formerly meant the head of state or king declaring war, but in today’s context, it can refer to democratic governments (presidents) or even organizations like the UN.
• Reasonable chance of success: if war is inevitable, one must be confident of a high likelihood of success.Jus in bello (“law/conduct in war”)
• Distinction, meaning distinguishing between civilians and combatants, so only those with legal status to engage in armed conflict may participate. Not civilians. Also not members of certain groups claiming to be ‘soldiers.’
• Proportionality: for example, if attacked conventionally, the response should not involve nuclear or bio weapons. • Military Necessity: Fair treatment of Prisoners of War (PoWs), no torture allowed.Jus ad bellum and Jus in bello are also the foundation of two world humanitarian laws: The Hague Laws and The Geneva Laws.
For a war to be considered just, all criteria of Jus ad bellum + Jus in bello must be met. The criteria are complex, while humans are creatures of flaws. So, Just War remains utopian, and wars that erupt prematurely are fields of dystopia.
SELF REFLECTION AND INTERESTING TIDBITS
Thucydides Trap
This term originated from the ancient Athenian military general, Thucydides, during the Peloponnesian War (Athens vs. Sparta). It roughly suggests that war becomes an inevitability when a powerful entity, which already possesses strength and influence, suddenly perceives a neighboring entity as having even greater power that threatens its hegemonic position. It’s like the idea that “the grass is always greener on the other side” but make it Westeros. 🐉🔥There have been many examples of wars triggered by this dynamic, and the term “Thucydides Trap” is now commonly used to describe the potential conflict between the US and China.
Pacifism
When discussing Just War, it often overlaps with the tradition of Pacifism (non-violence, complete opposition to war or violence).In the context of Christian teachings, it is generally associated with the teachings of Jesus, who emphasized love and forgiveness. A popular slogan is “Turn the other cheek, give your other cheek.” “Forgive seventy times seven.” “Love your enemies,” etc.
These two traditions, Just War and Pacifism, have shaped the Christian response to war for thousands of years. However, it’s also a subject of debate whether Jesus can be considered a pacifist. Through his practice of martyrdom (being crucified), does pacifism equate to passivism? Should one passively accept injustice or wrongdoing? I don’t think so. (Next time, let’s discuss martyrdom across various belief systems ☕️)
Other forms of pacifism include:
- The Kingdom of God Is Within You (Leo Tolstoy)
- Ahimsa (Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism)
- Satyagraha (Mahatma Gandhi)
Individuals or communities that follow pacifism often refuse to participate in the military, and if given a choice, they would prefer to pay fines. For example, the Quakers.
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2020 Intro
Bon Iver – Singapore, January 2020
Blast from the past. Little did I know that this moment of pure joy would soon be followed by confusion and uncertainty as the world grappled with unforeseen challenges. (๏ᆺ๏υ)
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Unlived Lives: Art Curator
It was the late 2000s, long before the term ‘curation’ became banal across various fields and scenes. With two of her closest friends, she uncovered their shared passion for art curation, each having nurtured their curatorial skills independently. They decided to merge their talents and create a collective, a teenage curatorial powerhouse.
Pooling their resources, they secured a charming space below a small canteen shop in the suburbs for a modest amount. Well, it was actually more because they received financial assistance from one of their friend’s parents who, for some reason, agreed when they presented a three-page proposal at that time. Their mission was simple yet profound: they aimed to curate thought-provoking exhibitions that showcased the works of local teen artists struggling to find their voice in the tumultuous art world. Within the nurturing embrace of their gallery, these artists found solace and support. The space slowly became a hub for art enthusiasts seeking the next big thing.
In 2009, during her postgraduate years, she stumbled upon a remarkable opportunity. A visionary developer who was transforming an old warehouse into a cutting-edge collaborative art space approached her. They wanted her to curate and oversee the artistic direction of this venture, envisioning a space akin to an artistic haven for the creative minds of the city—an early glimpse of what would later inspire similar initiatives like the 19th century’s version of “yadda for yadda’s sake”. At this time, all the fears she once imagined about writing a curatorial piece and releasing it to the public for multiple interpretations turned out not to be as dreadful as she had thought. It still made her anxious, but it was manageable.
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Today, she’s a seasoned curator, renowned for her obsession with avant-garde sound art. But she keep found herself pondering why an abundance of conventional and utterly boring pieces had somehow managed to sneak into her way.
Standing in front of the open refrigerator, she stared at her phone screen. Since last night, she had been trying to compose a reply to her designer. She was always like this, overthinking the message she would send. Dozens of drafts piled up in her notes. Some were sent, some were not. Some she revisited to understand what was on her mind in the past. Hereditary, she believed. Her late father loved to write. Most of them are poems for her mother to be broadcasted on his friend’s session at a local radio station. One of her main childhood memories was listening to cassette recordings of her father’s radio broadcasts. (And ruin it). She thought he would also obsess over every word before it was aired.
Funnily enough, on various occasions, when discussing family, she always mentioned that her interest in art was greatly influenced by her late uncle, a renowned painter with a big name in a distant city. Of course, it was a lie. Stories about her parents were always a sensitive topic for her. She always steered far away from that subject.
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Taking a glass filled with leftover chocolate ice cream, she sighed as she reread the reply she had prepared. Why am I so heavily invested in this, she thought. It’s just a choice of font for the exhibition catalog. No one will probably notice. But she can’t help it. It matters to her.
She often found herself deeply engrossed in preparing things like this. Sometimes, she couldn’t care less about the artworks. But the catalog, the invitation, the sound system, the poster, the meals, the schedule filled her mind. Despite what she often heard from her dealer colleagues when casually arguing, she wanted visitors to appreciate these details.
She felt a nudge at her feet. Alpen, her grey tabby cat, seemed very interested in the glass in her hand. As if on reflex, she put the glass down, placed her phone haphazardly on the sofa, and lifted Alpen onto her lap. Alpen seemed to know what would happen next. A cuddle attack from her human, and a few sniffs between her eyes and cheeks as if she was in a hurry to inhale oxygen.
Ignoring the draft reply she had composed earlier, she continued scrolling through her phone. She could hear the sounds of construction in the distance. The housing complex where she lived wasn’t particularly large. You could practically hear the neighbors across the street if their children were having a fight at home. But she preferred it here to her previous place. One reason might be the white bougainvillea trees in front of her neighbors’ houses. From a distance, they looked similar to her favorite baby’s breath flowers. Hm, baby’s breath, she now had a new idea for a centerpiece arrangement on the gallery’s front desk for next week.
34 likes, 2 new chats popped up in notifications. She could see that one of the names that popped up was his.
A few years earlier, she found herself entangled in a whirlwind relationship with a local artist. At first, it was filled with shared passion for art. His inflated sense of self-importance and inability to accept criticism began to overshadow their once-charming connection. It mirrored the same arrogance and egoism she had encountered in many other artists she had worked with. That was the last time she wanted to have a romantic relationship with anyone from the art world.
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Friday, the opening night.
The chat reply had been sent. The font had been chosen. The flower arrangement had been changed. The rundown had been adjusted. All the guests seemed to be enjoying the evening. The gallery spaces were filled with stylish people. In the restroom, she crossed paths with a group of art students from her alma mater who were serving as ushers. They looked gorgeous in their chosen uniforms, she thought.
In these past two hours, she had already checked the home’s pet camera three times. After engaging in a fanciful conversation with her cats at home, she approached her favorite young art collector in town who was in conversation with the artist exhibiting solo tonight.
Time passed. She could hear the cleaning staff tidying up wine glasses and cake plates. One of them caught her eye, and they exchanged smiles. She returned her attention to her conversation partner. As they engaged in discussions about art, life, and dreams, the curator and the artist consistently uncovered shared yet uninspired passions and concealed secrets. Amid this exchange of ideas and emotions, her own art remained a silent masterpiece—a complex narrative of a soul bound by destiny, yet hindered by the haunting echoes of unspoken desires. Deep down, she still grappled with insecurities from her early art school days.
She longed for a world where unpredictability reigned, and where avant-garde art was as normal as breakfast cereal.
She wasn’t home.
🎧 Listen to my playlist ‘Curator Ballads‘ on Spotify.
The “Unlived Lives” series represent short fiction of the roles that might have been destined for me in an alternate dimension, purposes I believe were meant to be mine but remained unfulfilled in the present life.
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WAR PARADOXES – Class Notes P.1
In the spirit of some lighthearted journaling, and with a newfound enthusiasm for getting back into the swing of things, I thought I’d share some class notes from a philosophy course I took last year titled “War: Philosophical and Interdisciplinary Approaches.” Now, I understand that topics like language classes or data analytics might not make for the most exciting blog posts, but hey, let’s give it a shot anyway!
WAR
As a matter of fact, we all know what war is. But when it comes to discussing it, it turns out to be quite perplexing and complex. Most definitions of war center around the involvement of nation-states, but it can also be an inner battle, a conflict within oneself, as it were.
At an infrahuman level, humans indeed had to engage in warfare to survive, much like animals hunting for their prey. This is something that used to be commonplace.
Nanjing! Nanjing! (City of Life and Death) – Japanese ceremony Frequency
- There have been 248 wars following World War II (you’d think there would be some trauma after WWII, but apparently not).
- Out of these 248 wars, 201 were initiated by the United States, and most of them ended in failure.
Scale
- In the past: wars were local or national affairs. Today: wars can be local, national, or global in scope.
- Simultaneously, there can also be internal conflicts within a nation.
Trends
- Access to weapons is becoming increasingly easier (is this the democratization of war?).
- Wars are becoming deadlier with the advent of nuclear weapons, autonomous/AI-driven weaponry (unmanned and devoid of ethical principles).
- War strategies have grown more complex and intricate, involving elements like cyber attacks and deep fakes.
- Moments of waiting for “Is this going to turn into a war?” can evolve into conflicts themselves. Remember the Cold War?
Some philosophical perspectives:
- Plato: War arises from the difficulty humans face in controlling their instincts.
- Heraclitus: He boldly claims, “War is the father of all, and king of all.” It places some beings as gods and others as men, making some slaves and others free.
- Hobbes: According to him, humans, by nature, are in a state of hostility towards each other.
- Rousseau: On the contrary, Rousseau believed that humans are creatures of peace by their very nature.
- Christianity: Humans are created in the image of God, imperfect yet free. They are meant to be free from war.
- Behaviorism: War is a consequence of behavior conditioned by the environment and culture.
- Biology: War emerges from the instinct of self-preservation (the reptilian brain), especially when threatened.
- Psychology: Freud’s concept of “Death drives” suggests that war can result from humans’ self-sacrificial and self-destructive instincts. It can be driven by sympathy, cooperation, or pure aggression.
In the natural order of things, humans are paradoxical creatures: indeterminate yet determinate, free yet determined, driven by self-preservation yet capable of self-sacrifice. It all depends on one’s beliefs. War, it seems, shares this paradox.
War may not be an inherent part of human nature but rather a product of human culture.
It’s a disaster celebrated in its own way.Reflection and Interesting Tidbits
I stumbled upon an article by Jean Baudrillard titled “La Guerre du Golfe n’a pas eu lieu” (The Gulf War did not take place), published in 1991. Baudrillard’s take on this subject is mind-boggling:
- He argues that this doesn’t mean the war didn’t happen, but they lose their significance as historical events.
- History, much like other spheres such as sexuality, aesthetics, politics, and economics, has transformed into something “trans-” – “transsexuality,” “transaesthetics,” “transpolitics,” and “transeconomics.” It’s like a realm of simulation, a ghostly presence, an undead institution that neither fully lives nor properly dies. (Now, that’s intriguing!)
- The Gulf War, according to Baudrillard, was “a degenerate form of war” where the enemy wasn’t encountered but made “invisible.” (This resonates with the idea of mediatic killings, akin to what we see in political years in Indonesia).
War reveals contrasting facets of good and evil, hero and villain – a juxtaposition that adds a unique dimension to it. Such stark contrasts often make for a more captivating composition, much like one of the principles of aesthetics – the allure of the contrast, the beauty in the starkness.
So there you have it.
(Suddenly, I’m reminded of that iconic scene in Francis Ford Coppola’s “Apocalypse Now” where “Ride of the Valkyries” plays in the background.)
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Art Interrupted
Neither Here Nor There: Chuck Arm Roast, Vanilla Cone and Strawberry Popsicle, Light Rye Bloomer
My brain is fit to burst with all the imagery I’ve been collecting. Like an-artist-who-doesn’t-make-art.
“I guess we were confused, didn’t know what to do. I know you are confused. Maybe I added to that confusion, but I was confused too.”
Neither Here Nor There contains an abundance of cues that can be used as object detection to provide conflicting information that contributes to a particular aspect of our everyday perceptual experience.
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No, I don’t Want No Scrubs
Ray: A lot of the time we feel that our lives the worst, but I think that if you looked in anybody else’s closet, you wouldn’t trade your shit for their shit. So let’s go.
Screenshots from ‘Mid90s’ (2018)
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Morning Rant
I know questioning of who is entitled to feel depressed right now (surely not me, with my clear lungs and sufficient Gopay balance) is unproductive. But I’ve concluded is that denying our emotions only underlines them.
I’m telling you, to plan a curriculum can be mentally, emotionally and physically draining. Teaching and doing the management at the same time from home in the past two months was barbaric.
It is definitely not a job for everyone, or a career that you start ‘because you didn’t know what else to do’, as many uninformed people tend to say. Like myself 12 years ago.
If you want to be rich, stop right there. Private school teachers do get paid an ok salary. No high, not low, just ok. I think it’s pretty similar to lecturers who teach at long established private university. But if you look at public school teachers, it’s a whole different cringe-game.
If you want a work-life balance shit, nu uh. It’s very possible for a teacher to get a nasty combination of burnout, loneliness and broke-ness.
I wish you – over-involved boomers – are more civil and appreciative.
