Finding Honesty In Buenos Aires

she said something in spanish and i replied “no, hablar espanol.”.  i just had to contradict myself, like always.

“english?”

“yes! english.”

the conversation meandered through the usual courtesy questions of “where are you from?”, “what are you doing here in my country?”, “how long are you for?”.

“come over and sit with me”, she beckoned.

i went over like a polite child and accepted her invitation to sit in front of her – curious yet was not entirely sure what to expected.

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“i’m bi-polar.”

those very words seem to have amplified themselves 10 times louder than the other words in the conversation.

“do you have many problems?”

there she was, with her disheveled white hair loosely tied in a ponytail, in her pale crimson shirt, she spoke about life.

and weakness was nowhere to be found.

“and you, do you have problems?”

i told her my problem, which of course paled in comparison to whatever she is going through.

she nodded and sucked on her cigarette, “yes, that IS a problem.”.

acknowledging a problem is half the battle won, it may make you feel a little better because you recognize it for what it is.

and maybe in the process of acknowledgement, it would arm you with the necessary strength and resolve to pull you through.

i was slapped by a brutal dose of honesty from Analia, which i found refreshing.

Rainy Days In Spring

the dead of winter has always make me appreciate the life that spring brings back  to the city.

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i love sitting in a car during rainy days and watch one water droplet merge with another and another.

occasionally, i would trace the path of the water droplet with my finger or have a bit of window graffiti fun. and maybe that’s why i take an immense pleasure sitting through the automated car wash.

and on this rainy day, i decided to let haruki murakami capture my heart and only to have it ripped into tiny little pieces at the very last moment – like he always does.

fool, i am.

Happy Dragon Year!

According to Wikipedia:

Chinese New Year is the most important of the traditional Chinese holidays. In China, it is known as “Spring Festival,” the literal translation of the Chinese name 春節 (Pinyin: Chūnjié), since the spring season in Chinese calendar starts with lichun, the first solar term in a Chinese calendar year. It marks the end of the winter season, analogous to the Western Carnival. The festival begins on the first day of the first month (Chinese: 正月; pinyin: Zhēngyuè) in the traditional Chinese calendar and ends with Lantern Festival which is on the 15th day. Chinese New Year’s Eve, a day where Chinese families gather for their annual reunion dinner, is known as Chúxī (除夕) or “Eve of the Passing Year.” Because the Chinese calendar is lunisolar, the Chinese New Year is often referred to as the “Lunar New Year”.

Chinese New Year, in short is like Thanksgiving for the Americans or Christmas for some.  This was the first time in 5 years since i moved to USA that i have not gone home for Chinese New Year.

Away from the festivity and gaiety of it all,  has made me a little homesick.

C  invited me to her home to have a friends’ version of reunion dinner and in return, i made a chinese new year inspired arrangement to bring her prosperity, love and happiness.

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On my way to the flower market, i had the following conversation with my mum:

“Pussy willows in an arrangement? don’t you just hang accessories off it?”

“Ma, we don’t want to be tacky here. the look is supposed to be festive. “

 

chinese new year elements: pussy willows, quince and the colour red.

photo courtesy of Peck Sim

Height does matter

this is one of the arrangements that i enjoyed making so much that i felt it deserve a post on its own.

the curvy and crazy willows gave such wonderful texture and grandeur to the arrangement that i could just admire it  for hours.

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love love the pop of orange tulips.

pity i would never find out if the camelia buds ever did bloom.

Changing Perspectives

as a kid, i often found myself doodling flowers. roses to be exact, since they are the easiest to draw.

while my friends of the same age would go for the red rose, i always wanted the elegant white rose.

to the 6 years old me, the white rose embodied elegance, class and purity.

it was everything that i would like to be when i grow up.

interestingly, my primary school’s classes were named after a variety of flowers – jasmine, rose, lily, orchid, gardenia.

i secretly wanted to be in the lily class but was placed in the orchid class.

at 8 years old, orchid didn’t seem to be the most excitable or interesting flower, nevermind that it is the national flower of singapore.

one day, my mum pointed to a vase of tiny yellow orchids that she has bought for the house.

“look” she said excitedly.

“don’t they look like little ladies in yellow dresses dancing away?”

i nodded and looked at them in amazement.

these little ladies wearing their cheery yellow dresses, were caught in prancing position midair – as though time has frozen to capture this moment of dance and poise.

there was something quite magical about re-discovering flowers with a different perspective.

i hated carnations with all my heart. they had no character whatsoever and usually comes in gaudy tacky colours.

as soon i see a floral arrangement with carnations sticking out somewhere, i would go into a big wincing mode.

two days ago, i was told we were going to work with carnations.

i asked Felipe if he was going to make me fall in love with them.

he smiled and proceeded to show me how carnations can be strikingly beautiful when they are on their own.

who would have thought cymbidium orchids and green carnations would make such a great pair?

carnations balls

tablescape with carnations balls

someone once told me, “there is no such thing as an ugly flower, only ugly arrangement.”

Hello world!

i can’t remember when was the last time i sat in front of the laptop and type incessantly away, pouring my heart into the cyberspace.

maybe this could be the end of a long writer’s block.

hello world, again.