Who knows how long I’ve loved you,
You know I love you still.
Will I wait a lonely lifetime?
If you want me to I will.

I feel like a fraud.

I don’t see my work as art.

Nevertheless all this will pass soon enough.

It always does.

I really would like to write more poetry.

But my heart is just not in it.

Besides to whom should I dedicate them to…

Ideas are like stars, they’re endless.

Some version of the Drake Equation could be applied to ideas. Applying this equation, where fraction of stars with planets = durability of concept andfraction of planets capable of sustaining life = materials and funding and fraction of those planets where life evolves = opportunity and environment.

One could conceivably calculate the possibility of a well conceived, well executed work finished from universe of ideas just as one might calculate the possibility of life.

In other words, the ideas that make it to finished work are likely more rare than we think.

Think about it–the average human says between 300 and 1000 words per minute to themselves. (hopefully, generally, silently) For the creative person, many of those words involve ideas.

That’s a lot of information in a day, a week, a month.

Ideas are also like Soup. There are endless varieties, but only a few basic formulas. Like most humans, from a distance, soups all look the same. But generally, there’s a background/backstory (stock), and symbols/metaphor (veggies and/or meat), character (noodles) and the experience of the creator (flavor/spice.)

Ok. Soup is sort of a silly metaphor for art. But it sort of works, and that’s the visual I started with.

If you don’t like soup, then how about this?

Ideas are like assholes. Everyone has one. Everyone thinks his or hers is special.

Everyone is wrong about that.

See? Soup is good.

Some Ideas should be written down. Some should not. Learning to recognize the difference takes both effort and experience. Sometimes writing an idea down can take the wind right out of it, rob it of it’s magic.

I’ve learned that this isn’t the best plan, at least not for me.

It works better for me not to try to write down every idea, but instead to give them my full attention as they bloom and fade in my head. Let them go into the mix of other ideas.

They’re raw data, bits that can and will combine with other bits and come out later as something more.

More than the sum of its parts.

Bigger inside than out.

Really good ideas don’t get lost or forgotten. Really good ideas stick like glue.

I had to work long and hard to find out the kinds of stuff I needed to make note of. I had to learn to pay attention. Notes and lists can be good tools, used correctly. But they can become a form of procrastination. If you’re writing everything down, the good stuff gets lost in the fray. Not to mention that trying to write down every idea that comes to mind (think 300 – 1000 wpm) can make you crazy.

I work better if I treat ideas as living things. They are, in a sense, in that they are mutable, affected by their environments, they can be fed and they can die.

I often get my best ideas when I’m working. I can tell if an idea is good because it persists. It looks just as good the next day. And the next day. If it’s a really good idea it rings like a bell. It wakes me up at night.

If it’s a great idea it makes me sweat and/or pace. It makes me not care if my shirt is on inside out and backwards. It makes me forget whether I’ve brushed my teeth.

I’m not kidding about this one bit.

Note – worse than writing:

Getting a fresh new idea is very exciting. It’s like falling in love. You want to shout it from the mountain tops. You want to email your friends. Eureka! But what you should really do is

SHUT THE HELL UP.

Nothing sucks the life out of a good idea faster than yakking about it. Not even writing it down. Not even close.

Shut the hell up. Be quiet. Think. Work. Let the idea build its own momentum. This proves to work better for me. Over and over and over. Other creatives will tell you the same things. Ask the successful ones, the big guys.

They know exactly what I mean.

Besides, no one can ever, ever see your idea as you do. No matter how inspired and pure and holy. No one sees what you will/might do. No one sees anything except the work you’ve done.

Don’t talk about it. No one gets it. They watch your lips move and nod politely. But they do not see. Or they say something completely deflating. It’s not their fault. No one can see what’s in your brain.

Trust me on this one. Shut up.

I hope this saves you time and energy.

Ideas tend to work out in their own time, even though that doesn’t mean we should sit on our tuffets and wait. Ideas that are good come in their own time often after years of gathering the raw materials they’re made from. Like clear water from underground. It takes work to prime the pump.

Possibly the best we can hope for it to get better at knowing the difference.

Don’t be afraid of ideas. At their core, they are few, but no two people create from the same recipe, from the same raw materials. Like soup, people look the same from a distance, but up close, we each have our own flavors.

I feel as though I’ve returned from a very very long journey.

There are stories as usual, and I’ll tell them, but it’s just too early.

For now, I’ll keep working. I’ve been traveling for sure, to interesting places in my psyche.

I found great darkness there, and beauty. The work will describe it. It’s a language that works better then words, for things I can’t describe.

But I thought of all of you there, and tried to remember what I’d bring back for you. There are treasures to be found in the strangest places!

When I return, you’ll see some of the things I found.

The man is admiring the sunset on a beautiful beach, beside his wife, enjoying well-deserved holidays. Everything seems absolutely in place, when all of a sudden, from the bottom of his heart there comes a nice, friendly voice that asks him a difficult question:
“Are you happy?”

“Yes, I am,” he answers.

“Then look around you carefully.”

“Who are you?”

“I am the devil. And you can’t be happy, because you know that sooner or later tragedy can appear and upset your world. Look carefully around you, and you will understand that virtue is just one of the faces of terror”.

And the devil began to show everything that was happening on the beach. The excellent family man who at that very moment was packing and helping the children to get dressed would like to have an affair with his secretary, but was terrified at how his wife would react.

The wife who would like to have a job and her independence, but was terrified at how her husband would react.

The children who behaved well, terrified by the idea of punishment.

The girl reading a book, alone under her beach umbrella, pretending to be casual, while her soul was terrified at the possibility of never finding the love of her life.

The young man with the racket exercising his body and terrified at having to live up to his parents’ expectations.

The old man who did not smoke or drink saying that he felt much better that way, when the truth was that the terror of death whispered like the wind in his ears.

The couple running past, their feet splashing the water where the waves broke on the beach, all smiles, and hidden terror saying that they would grow old, uninteresting, invalid.

The rich man who stopped his speedboat in everyone’s view, waving and smiling and sunburned, and filled with terror because he could lose all his money at any moment.

The owner of the hotel who came out to greet his guests just when the sun was setting, trying to make them all happy and full of cheer, and demanding miracles of his accountants, with terror in his soul because he knew that no matter how honest he was, the men in the government would always discover all the flaws they wanted in his accounts.

Terror in each one of those persons on that lovely beach at a sunset that would take your breath away. The terror of remaining alone, the terror of the dark that filled their imagination with devils, the terror of doing something not included in the manual of good behavior, the terror of God’s judgment, the terror of the comments of men, the terror of justice that punished any fault, the terror of the injustice that left the guilty free and threatening. The terror of risking and losing, the terror of winning and having to live with the envy of others, the terror of loving and being rejected, the terror of asking for a raise, of accepting an invitation, of going to unknown places, of not managing to speak a foreign language, of not having the ability to impress others. The terror of growing old, of dying, of being noticed because of your defects, of not being noticed because of your qualities, of not being noticed neither for your ! defects nor your qualities.

“I hope that this has made you calmer,” concluded the devil. “After all, you are not alone in your fears.”

“Please don’t go away until you hear what I have to say,” answered the man. ”We have the incredible capacity to detect pain, remorse, wounds – or terror, as you prefer to call it. But my father once told me the story of an apple-tree that was so laden with apples that its branches could not sing in the wind. Someone passing by asked why it did not try to call attention like all the other trees did. ‘My fruits are my best advertisement,’ answered the apple-tree.

“Of course, I am no different from anyone else, and my heart is filled with many fears. But despite everything, the fruits of my life speak for me, and if some day a tragedy happens, I know that I have not spent my life without taking risks.”

And the devil, disappointed, left him to try to scare other – weaker – people.

It’s that time of life, where you see your friends and loved ones in relationships.

Some of them have already tied the knot.

Real life stuff gets you thinking.

I never really wanted to achieve anything in life or even seriously considered marriage.

I just wanted to know why I was born, why I had to listen to others and what’s the point of it all?

I realize that I don’t have anyone in my life at this moment and perhaps never really had anyone.

Getting married and starting a family all seems so foreign to me.

I don’t know if I will ever get married or even have a lasting relationship with anyone.

Like everything else in life, I just don’t know.

But it would be nice if there’s someone waiting, just for me.

I know I have to put effort in to get something out.

Sometimes this timing is extremely inconvenient.

Love, it comes when one least expects it.

Sometimes it’s necessary to let love wait, however impatiently, for other priorities.

Sometimes it’s necessary to drop everything, clear off space and run with it.

How to know? I’ve gotta tell you, I don’t know for sure.

If you told me one year ago, I was to be marking assignments from the Singapore Poly I would have laughed at you.

But here I am marking assignments.

I couldn’t even fathom being hired without a degree, all I had to do was just show up with a portfolio.

Where is this life of mine leading to, I do not know.

I have missed so many boats at the harbor it is a wonder why I am a still a hopeful.

I have never asked for a difficult life, but that’s all I have ever got.

Somehow I have made it work.

Looking back, I realize so many missed opportunities to have meaningful relationships.

That is if I am permitted to say such things in a Darwinian world.

Every person I ever wanted to be close with decided somehow or rather I just wasn’t good enough.

I really can’t blame them.

I am not exactly a prized catch.

The problem was I was only me.

Nothing special.

Right now I have a simple rudimentary philosophy for my existence.

I am alive and that means I get to change things.

I may not know where this life would take me but one thing is for sure, it would have been a lot more fun if you come along.

Words never uttered mean more than all the words that were spoken.

Yes I know its Cheesy.

But it’s a cheesy sort of a moment.

Speed Modelling and Texturing Test. Maya 2009. Wait it’s loading.

Seems like time is of short commodity these days.

I’ve been putting off my re design of my galerie for much too long now.

Here’s the plan. Start work on a new site after I finish marking all my student assignments.

Stay tuned.