When your life flashes by you, the inexplicable tinge of sadness, of letting go engulfs the present. The entire journey rewinds, each event, each frame struggling to fill milliseconds. Not enough time. Even with the sands of time contriving to slow the descent into the realms of uncertainty, one must surely lament the inevitability. Question not, you say. Just release. Because when you do, you can then, without regrets, bid farewell. Goodbye, and if it shall come to pass, ethereal beauty beckons.
My life flashed by me today. If I could relive my whole life thus far in that split second, time to consider fulfillment for what is left to grasp.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Friday, September 24, 2010
Tranquility
The crimson boy sits, reticent, the earlier disquiet replaced by a soothing incandescence.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
The World Is Beautiful
"Even the best fall down sometimes."
The true mark of a real champion is the ability to transcend the winning aesthetic and to practise emotional philanthropy. By that it means harnessing the altruistic nature dormant in every person to effect, in the simplest form, a beautiful world. I see the propensity to reinvigorate a world plagued with strife and suffering based on visceral emotive reactions. I know that there is love in abundance, and we will all learn to relearn the true meaning of its concept once again.
The true mark of a real champion is the ability to transcend the winning aesthetic and to practise emotional philanthropy. By that it means harnessing the altruistic nature dormant in every person to effect, in the simplest form, a beautiful world. I see the propensity to reinvigorate a world plagued with strife and suffering based on visceral emotive reactions. I know that there is love in abundance, and we will all learn to relearn the true meaning of its concept once again.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Flights of Fancy
I have always been a traveller of sorts. Day-to-day domestic travel, the occasional international or interstate (when I am in Melbourne of course) journey, or even travelling to cities of days past through movies and popular fiction.
I wish I was there during the monumental periods in history, brushing against priceless photograph-worthy occurrences. The Aztecs, Normandy, the Crusades, Cristobal Balenciaga's personal dress fittings in his Parisian salon, travelling as Christopher Columbus' companion...the list goes on.
(An interesting point to note is the astoundingly rapid progress of man from the archaic times to the stylish, contemporary present. What is deemed passé and ugly has given way to opulence, decadence, strife, consumerism, natural disasters...the list lengthens each day as we move closer to an unfathomable outcome.)
A trip down memory lane, or rather, the days of yore, brings with it the renewed thrill of unearthing something. A flight of fancy to uncover objects of fancy, with added perils. Oh, the irony. Not that I worry anyway. Nothing is surprising nowadays. Retrospection never does any harm. First up, the Yucatån Peninsula, Mexico, back 3000 years to the Maya Civilization.
I wish I was there during the monumental periods in history, brushing against priceless photograph-worthy occurrences. The Aztecs, Normandy, the Crusades, Cristobal Balenciaga's personal dress fittings in his Parisian salon, travelling as Christopher Columbus' companion...the list goes on.
(An interesting point to note is the astoundingly rapid progress of man from the archaic times to the stylish, contemporary present. What is deemed passé and ugly has given way to opulence, decadence, strife, consumerism, natural disasters...the list lengthens each day as we move closer to an unfathomable outcome.)
A trip down memory lane, or rather, the days of yore, brings with it the renewed thrill of unearthing something. A flight of fancy to uncover objects of fancy, with added perils. Oh, the irony. Not that I worry anyway. Nothing is surprising nowadays. Retrospection never does any harm. First up, the Yucatån Peninsula, Mexico, back 3000 years to the Maya Civilization.
Random Musings of an Ad Man
One for the advertising people.
"One day, you walked in with an advertising cliché. We said "done, done, done." Why don't you go think of an idea that makes us go "why didn't we think of that?" Then we can go think of visuals for above-the-line and below-the-line medium, as well as the new-fangled medium - social media. We can then happily hold hands, mock up our ideas, bring it to studio, print them and mount them on A3 boards. We can bring them to the client, coffee in hand (due to days of sleepless nights on Photoshop) and hope for a happy ending.
Before all these begin, we begin with an interview. Yours. Submit your portfolio today."
"One day, you walked in with an advertising cliché. We said "done, done, done." Why don't you go think of an idea that makes us go "why didn't we think of that?" Then we can go think of visuals for above-the-line and below-the-line medium, as well as the new-fangled medium - social media. We can then happily hold hands, mock up our ideas, bring it to studio, print them and mount them on A3 boards. We can bring them to the client, coffee in hand (due to days of sleepless nights on Photoshop) and hope for a happy ending.
Before all these begin, we begin with an interview. Yours. Submit your portfolio today."
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Camper: The Philosophy Two
This was the original camper philosophy I scripted.
I hate being what you think I am. I am shy. Stop gesticulating at me. I don't pander to your whims. You know, if I have to care about something, it will be about escaping. Like actually doing stuff that will get be caught. Enjoy the moment? You really think so? I mean, if the sky is the limit, I can just go on forever. I have seen countless sunrises and in the end, nightfall still comes. Do you think I enjoy inclement weather? Hell yes! I dream of the future, of clouds, of rainbows, of optimism. I am whole again. Before all these happen, please cut me loose. Yank off the chain. And then, catch me if you can.
I hate being what you think I am. I am shy. Stop gesticulating at me. I don't pander to your whims. You know, if I have to care about something, it will be about escaping. Like actually doing stuff that will get be caught. Enjoy the moment? You really think so? I mean, if the sky is the limit, I can just go on forever. I have seen countless sunrises and in the end, nightfall still comes. Do you think I enjoy inclement weather? Hell yes! I dream of the future, of clouds, of rainbows, of optimism. I am whole again. Before all these happen, please cut me loose. Yank off the chain. And then, catch me if you can.
Fabian
The sky is maroon, maybe burgundy, like a white canvas tainted with red wine. Clouds are sparse, dusk beckons. Soon there will be little twinkle twinkles, little sparkly dots that fill the vast expanse.
Just below, it is sparse all around too. A solitary tree stands resolute, surrounded by lush fields of green. Giant branches extend from the stem, leaves gently tickled by a mild breeze.
A lone silhouette sits under the dense foliage, back against the enormous trunk. He is tentative. He closes his eyes, slowly envisaging. Just like in his saccharine dreams. Oh, the sweetness. Her pirouettes, gentle little steps of hers, waltzing like a carefree butterfly. He visualizes himself walking up to her, slightly coy, saying, "Hi I'm Fabian".
Just below, it is sparse all around too. A solitary tree stands resolute, surrounded by lush fields of green. Giant branches extend from the stem, leaves gently tickled by a mild breeze.
A lone silhouette sits under the dense foliage, back against the enormous trunk. He is tentative. He closes his eyes, slowly envisaging. Just like in his saccharine dreams. Oh, the sweetness. Her pirouettes, gentle little steps of hers, waltzing like a carefree butterfly. He visualizes himself walking up to her, slightly coy, saying, "Hi I'm Fabian".
The Pink Theory
My life is deeply steeped in the world of aesthetics, words, music, culture and the like. Design is cold, it is clinical and sometimes borders on being too well crafted. I have chosen to infuse the concept of love into my works, hence the color pink. As such, the concept of The Pink Theory aims to integrate the ideology of love and the color pink into my design identity. My portfolio is in the works. Stay tuned.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Camper: The Philosophy
I define the camper philosophy as breaking out of our banal excuse of an existence. Here's my take.
Philosophy One
Are you already afraid? By now, you should feel the whimsical tendency to kick the pallid, angst-filled conformist sitting next to you in the train, reading Financial Times on a soppy Sunday morning. To fully embrace the Camper aesthetic, you need to be a more than a rebel. First and foremost, you are in the wrong place. You should be on the train, not in the bloody cabin. You owe no one an apology, so what is stopping you from taking a leak in someone’s gas tank? Be totally prepared. The air you breathe frees you, gives you the liberty to push yourself to the brink of insanity. Crazy is not about almost going mad, leave that to the weak maggots. It is lung bursting, full-on masochistic freedom that fuels you. When you are ready, yank off the chain. Then sound the alarm and awaken the rest of the free world.
Philosophy Two
When you buy a Camper shoe, you are not buying a fashion item. You are buying into a philosophy. We are not a brand. Brands are for insecure, glory seeking textbook nerds who think they own the world. You are the world. You do not embrace society; live your fantasies on the street. Where there is strife, there is Camper. Take note. Guts? Check. Foolhardiness? Check. Subversivism? Check. All right, you are ready to rock and roll. Yank off the chain, and be what you can be.
Philosophy One
Are you already afraid? By now, you should feel the whimsical tendency to kick the pallid, angst-filled conformist sitting next to you in the train, reading Financial Times on a soppy Sunday morning. To fully embrace the Camper aesthetic, you need to be a more than a rebel. First and foremost, you are in the wrong place. You should be on the train, not in the bloody cabin. You owe no one an apology, so what is stopping you from taking a leak in someone’s gas tank? Be totally prepared. The air you breathe frees you, gives you the liberty to push yourself to the brink of insanity. Crazy is not about almost going mad, leave that to the weak maggots. It is lung bursting, full-on masochistic freedom that fuels you. When you are ready, yank off the chain. Then sound the alarm and awaken the rest of the free world.
Philosophy Two
When you buy a Camper shoe, you are not buying a fashion item. You are buying into a philosophy. We are not a brand. Brands are for insecure, glory seeking textbook nerds who think they own the world. You are the world. You do not embrace society; live your fantasies on the street. Where there is strife, there is Camper. Take note. Guts? Check. Foolhardiness? Check. Subversivism? Check. All right, you are ready to rock and roll. Yank off the chain, and be what you can be.
Happy Father's Day
A poem for Dad on Father's Day 2010.
The one who brings me to the game
Without you life isn’t the same
You protect me from behind the scene
You’re more than my next-of-kin
When I’m dreaming you pull me down
Teach me never to frown
When the whole world beats me down
Dad you’ll never allow me to drown
You’re my pillar of strength
Ever the man so frank
We share happiness and sorrow
Cars, soccer, even the same pillow
Dad today is your day
You might think it insignificant
You were always the hero unsung
Holding my head when it was hung
At least let me herald
To the whole wide world
What a wonderful dad I have
One year has elapsed since the last
This year will pass by fast
Soon I’ll be home to rush through the door
To look at you dad
The way I never had before
Happy Father’s Day
The one who brings me to the game
Without you life isn’t the same
You protect me from behind the scene
You’re more than my next-of-kin
When I’m dreaming you pull me down
Teach me never to frown
When the whole world beats me down
Dad you’ll never allow me to drown
You’re my pillar of strength
Ever the man so frank
We share happiness and sorrow
Cars, soccer, even the same pillow
Dad today is your day
You might think it insignificant
You were always the hero unsung
Holding my head when it was hung
At least let me herald
To the whole wide world
What a wonderful dad I have
One year has elapsed since the last
This year will pass by fast
Soon I’ll be home to rush through the door
To look at you dad
The way I never had before
Happy Father’s Day
Happy Mother's Day
This was a poem I included in a card for Mum during Mother's Day in 2010. Bereft of fluffy rhetoric, I just wanted a simple and sincere portrayal of my feelings.
If faith makes us strong
It’s because you made me so
I always belong
Your love made me grow
My dear mother you’re mine
Our bond it’s hard to define
You always grab my hand
In me you’ll always understand
This day is all about you
All of this is so true
Dreams, hugs and our life
You and I, it’s just so nice
One day I’ll be back
But you can’t say the same
Looking at me you’ll proclaim
“Baby, I never left.”
If faith makes us strong
It’s because you made me so
I always belong
Your love made me grow
My dear mother you’re mine
Our bond it’s hard to define
You always grab my hand
In me you’ll always understand
This day is all about you
All of this is so true
Dreams, hugs and our life
You and I, it’s just so nice
One day I’ll be back
But you can’t say the same
Looking at me you’ll proclaim
“Baby, I never left.”
Freshly Baked Honesty
Society reeks of decadence. I am no different. In the midst of it all, I seek calm and peace by doing what I enjoy: writing. This blog will serve as my sphere for individual expression. Progress comes only when we tap into our inherent ability to embrace change and look forward to tomorrow. After all, in Navy Seal parlance, the only easy day was yesterday.
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