big noses and bird poo

[exhibition]

really early this morning, eL, Y, beingboring and I went to see the Modigliani exhibition at the AGO. all of us hate the crowds and I especially find that sometimes it's hard to bear the stupidity of some folks. at the film festival on Weds night for example, the friggin' cell phone of the guy behind us rang during the film. instead of turning it off, he answered it. but he was too slow, so we heard him check his voicemail. and then he called the person back. the girl in front of us just turned around and loudly said, "Are you for real?!" we laughed, and the moron hung up and left shortly thereafter. what is wrong with some people?

so we thought by getting to the gallery early, we could avoid most of the crowds. you'd think that people who go to art galleries would be polite and civilized; unfortunately, stupidity knows no boundaries. the last exhibition I went to was the Turner, Whistler and Monet show. people were cutting people off, a man in an AGO wheelchair purposely ran over my foot to get a better view (I know it was not an accident because he did it consistently with other people), a pretentious dingbat actually touched (actually pawed) one of the Whistler paintings to make a point about some obtuse observation.

luckily, Modigliani isn't as popular as Monet, so we quite enjoyed the show without any annoyances. I'm not too familiar with Modigliani's work, though his style is pretty easy to recognize. I didn't know he was an aspiring sculptor and the few pieces on display were quite good. he's mostly known for his portraits and they were captivating. some were like caricatures, their faces were often distorted, sockets without eyes, noses too large. but beneath the strangeness, you can see and feel the essence of that model coming through. there is something haunting about his paintings, as if the soul of each person is trapped in the twisted reflection of their bodies. the last nude hung in the last room was both erotic and real.

afterwards, we went over with the love commitment to Asian Legend for some northern Chinese dim sum: ordered some "Little Dragon Buns" (inspired by JadedBitch), some hot & sour soup, my fav onion pancakes and other yummy food. I was also dying for a coffee after, so we popped over to King's Cafe in Kensington Market for a quick caffeine kick. Y then took off to see the Raptor's game. beingboring and the love commitment was going to try to catch The Incredibles, so they walked with me and eL northwards to Bloor, where we were going to do a little shopping. a stray pigeon(?) decided to fly with us and pooed on my jacket. I was told that that's supposed to be lucky; but it was hard to believe when I was wiping bird shit off of my chest with beingboring retreating from me and going ewwwwwwwwwwwww!

after a quick run through Yorkville, eL got a wonderful men's toiletry bag at Cole Haan for he-who-cannot-be-named. this, of course, reminded me how woefully behind I was with my Christmas shopping. but by the time I bid eL a good evening, I was feeling pooped and pooed on. I walked home listening to Sarah Brightman on my iPod, clutching my next book, eL's copy of Foucault's Pendulum, to add to the other half-read books on my list. all in all, it was a fun day!

Happy American Thanksgiving!

[cheer]

Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends and fans, and especially to the transplanted Canadians who get to eat turkey for two whole days! Makes me think of canned cranberry sauce, newfy stuffing, apple & pumpkin pies... and the aftermath of turkey sandwiches, turkey soup, turkey congee (my fav!), turkey fried rice... and we do it all over again for Christmas and New Year's...

Anyone want to invite me over for your turkey dinner? :)

there was a disco ball

[drunk/update]

-s-asked me to go to the opening night of the Reel Asian Film Festival tonight. It was short notice, but I went. And now after the after party/reception, I'm drunk from expensive cocktails and free beer. It was fascinating talking to him about the party, about how he used to baby sit authors, filmmakers, actors. There were always someone he could talk to, but I really felt out of place. I had a great time though, seeing -s- in his former element. I dunno if I could do what he used to do.

And while I am buzzed with the euphoria of seeing him, I'm also sad that he's going away. He said at least for six months. Why is it that people with plane tickets are always the one you want to stay?

what were the skies like when you were young?

[duty]

Since Monday, I've been fulfilling my civic duty by schelpping my tired body over to jury duty. Technically, I'm just in the jury pool, having not been selected for any trials. On the first day, I was randmonly drawn from the drum, #12 of 20, and got to stand facing the accused (alleged heroin trafficker). The Crown attorney and the defense attorney will simpy look at the prospective juror and say "content" or "challenge". Two contents, you're in, one challenge and you're out. The Crown challenged, and I was sent back to the body of the court room by the presiding judge, a younger Sofia Loren look-alike, who spoke in whispers into the mic. No one asked us any questions, they just look and decide. I figure I must've looked sympathetic to the accused... you know, being asian and a man and all that opium drug war in my family's history. but seriously, they did pick a cross-section of people for the jury. I must've looked too hard at the accused, looking like a made up my mind already.

The rest of the time, all 200 (or so) of us are herded into the Jury Lounge, where we wait to be called for the next trial. After watching an intro video on jury duty and after the nice pre-prepared speech from the judge, we all understood the seriousness and the importance of our contribution to a democratic society. But does it have to be so bloody boring?

I haven't since been called back to a trial, so I managed to pass the time by finishing off The Da Vinci Code (**) and Number9Dream (***1/2), and now trying to finish off Ian McEwan's Atonement. And I got to daydream about all the accessories I can buy for my iPod, as well as think about -s-...

On Sunday, I had a coffee date to meet -s-. We had a nice chat in a parkette off of GreekTown and I was taken by his stories. And so, yesterday, we met up at the Hair of the Dog for drinks. He had other engagments prior and after, so we spent just a short time drinking. (good? bad? I got slotted in for 90 minutes.) He talked and talked and complained that I listened too much, but I was distracted by his exhuberance and his smile. So far, I have decided that this is a date and I was enjoying it very much.

And then he told me more about South Korea. He had mentioned he was travelling there in December to visit friends. Halfway through our beers, he said that it was an open-ended ticket. He didn't have a return flight. No return date, and also no return destination. My heart fell. Suddenly, I felt my iciness wanting so badly to freeze me all over.

When we parted, I had told him I liked him and we agreed to see each other again. What I didn't say was that I hadn't felt this way in such a long time, to feel connected to someone new, someone who seemed to be on the same wavelength. Maybe it's my imagination, maybe it's just my wishful thinking. I wanted to feel a little more, to let him melt my heart and perhaps let me touch his. But all I saw on the walk home was his plane flying into the sky, a spark dissipating into the fluffy clouds, away from the ice floe that is me.

half-eaten sandwiches

[readings]

I’m frantically trying to finish two books right now, The Da Vinci Code and Number9Dreams. I’ve been reading the latter on and off amongst other books for the past year and it’s brilliantly written, though uninterestingly plotted. I’ve only started reading Da Vinci Code because Y had borrowed it from a friend and it needs to be returned as soon as possible. Y finished the book very quickly and I’ve never seen him so engrossed in a novel before. He’s now back to reading his books on records and collecting.

As badly written it is, I am unsurprisingly riveted by the exciting plot and surprisingly bored by the poorly written prose. The dialogue is good and the scenes are set up quite well. It actually reads a bit like a screenplay, in that the writing hits the scenes right on the nail and the structure is filmable. but that’s also what aggravates me. I have no sense that I’m reading a novel, and the extra short chapters feel manipulative, pointless page turning technique. So, I both hate it and can’t put it down.

After this, I will have to rush through the rest of Number9Dreams, so I can pick up his latest novel that got short-listed for the Booker.

But I also got a new toy… an iPod! So this past week, I’ve been remiss with my posts and blog travels. I’ve been too busy organizing my music and converting my CDs to mp3. I have been writing draft blog posts on several topics, but just haven't had the time to finish them. I will post more this week, as I have been summoned for jury duty. Jury selection starts tomorrow, and that means I don’t have to go to the office and work overtime! Yay!

And maybe by the end of this week, I’ll find some time to go on a date. Joel asked if my new toy was a new bf. I wish!

my windows xp(erience)

[postcards #1]

it was Y’s idea to call the photo section “Postcards”. I love postcards sent through the mail from faraway places, from places that I have been or places that I will never see. I especially like to see the short note written on the card, sometimes witty, often banal, but always interesting to see how a few words and a picture can fly me over to another place. In many piles and in many boxes, I’ve been collecting these postcards throughout the years. they are like photos to me, but not of any intimate or personal images, but more like a still photo of a time of the my own life and of the person who sent it to me. They are the paper trails, the paper connections to my friends and family.

when I was choosing what photos to post, I just picked what colours appealed to me. I didn't plan a theme or thought too hard about it. they were just photos I thought were interesting. Gerry, however, sent an email, noticing the different surfaces of these photos. but what isn’t evident, is that these are all photos of windows. Y’s photo is a building up where beingboring used to live at Yonge & St. Clair. The blue windows were striking and it makes me wonder what one sees out of these blue squares. Gerry’s photo is actually a very large photo of a Starbucks in Germany (I think Cologne?). what struck me was the reflection of the glass, the contrast of the warm yellow interior to the outside. Jei’s photo was taken from his window in London, and what immediately struck me were the bits of paint flaking off the sill.

these photos are like windows into another person’s world. they remind me of why I love postcards so much and why I keep asking everyone I know to mail me a postcard when they go abroad.

flying without wings

[condolences]


throughout last week when I was able to tear myself from the slave pit of overtime, I surfed to a lot of blogs talking about the American elections. This was the election that everyone around the world was watching, and everyone had an opinion. most people that I knew were hoping that the burning Bush would lose, though secretly we all knew he’d probably squeak by. it wasn’t really an election for the Bush to win, but really one that the Democrats had lost. They lost when they nominated flippity John Kerry to be their candidate. according to the Y’s theory of president-ship, “President Kerry” didn’t have quite the presidential ring. Neither did Bush mind you, but it sure beats “President Gore”. So what the Democrats should’ve done was find a candidate with the proper name – not a candidate that appeared to be in control of his puppet strings, but looked like a wooden doll nonetheless.

I think it’s tragic how the country is so divided, and not just by ideology, but also by geographical lines. it’s tragic that the Republicans have used this election to drive a wedge through the people to win the election. it’s tragic how the Democrats aren’t that much different from the Republicans and they couldn’t find even a few words to unite the country any better. it’s tragic that there’s so much talk (though not seriously, I figure) of Americans wanting to move to Canada. ([rant] really! Stay where you are and fix the mess. coming to Canada to face our mess isn’t an answer. it’s selfish and so disconnected from the reality that most people in this world would kill to live in your country. just ask US Immigration when they hassle every non-white, non-euro traveler at the border... which by the way, is the single most irritating reason why I loathe going across to the US [/end rant])while we all may complain and whine about the US, they do represent the biggest fair economy in the world, an experiment in people’s rights over the state, a dream that we all can be better than we are now. perhaps I find it tragic mostly because the experiment seems on the verge of failing.

When I remember the opera The Handmaid’s Tale, never in my short life have I actually thought these dystopian novels could be more than just a commentary about our present circumstances. the Bush New World makes us all non-Americans believe that it can really happen, exactly that way.

So, I extend my condolences to all my American friends and readers. Condolences to those who wanted the Bush to lose and condolences to those who wanted Bush to win with a bigger vote, for a bigger mandate. Remember, no one wins if you don't play fairly.

Oval Office, courtesy of the White House (it's white, thanks to Canada!) Thanks to the JadedBitch for pointing to Jesusland!