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An old recording, close your eyes and you can hear -almost touch - the words...

Des yeux qui font baiser les miens,

Un rire qui ser perd sur sa bouche,

Voila le portrait sans retouche

De l'homme auquel j'appartiens.

It's almost two and here I am still up and fully awake. A friend's message today made me think... I should know better than to allow temporary bitterness to drive me to make generalisations I for they can result in and ill advised comments.

It also happens that a friend and I were watching a film today... although EVERY time my friend and I decide to watch a movie she falls asleep five minutes into it. Seriously, I don't know how she manages at the movies (must be the surround sound system).

Quand il me prend dans ses bras

Il me parle tout bas,
Je vois la vie en rose.

It was this silly RomCom (The Holiday). Although I am not being completely honest by calling it 'silly': two nice love stories mildly complicated but that like in Shakespeare's play: All is well that ends well...

Il me dit des mots d'amour,
Des mots de tous les jours,
Et ça me fait quelque chose.

RomComs are to film what Britney Spears is to pop (I guess I could work harder on the metaphore): Something we like but often shy away from admitting so. Indeed, despite our best efforts (to deny it to ourselves and the world), this genre seems to awaken all sorts of fuzzy, comfy, cosy feelings. And what is not to like when love conquers all and any tribulations experienced only serve to strengthen it...

Il est entré dans mon cœur
Une part de bonheur
Dont je connais la cause.

It surely doesn't help that the majority of the stories we watch play out on the silver screen end well. What is not to like in a story which conclusion takes us to a world seen through pink-coloured glasses? We all crave that fantasy, but while some of us do so covertly others do openly.

C'est toi pour moi. Moi pour toi
Dans la vie,
Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie.

After all if we wanted to read sad stories we'd pick something out of Victor Hugo's Les Miserables or the works of some Russian authors which tend to be very "realistic" in the way they go about portraying human anguish and suffering... For a shorter version and a similar effect I guess one could look to Keat's knight doomed by his love for La Belle dame sans merci...

Et dès que je l'aperçois
Alors je sens en moi
Mon cœur qui bat.

My often pragmatic nature tends to prefer the pessimistic realism for it seems more real and less nonsensical in content. It also lowers expectations and if your expectations are low, well its not like the fall will be too painful; there is just not that much distance to the ground.

Des nuits d'amour a ne plus en finir
Un grand bonheur qui prend sa place
Des enuis des chagrins, des phases
Heureux, heureux a en mourir.

The 'high' that romance/love gives may be exquisite but is short-lived (even if the story continues at some point real life kicks in and brings you back to reality)! At the same time you KNOW that those short live moments are really what's all about: Living.

In the end, it is just another of life's little ironies...It's a bit like that reason and passion 'debate', love (romance) and realism 'sorta' need to balance each other out... It is also nice to forget reality sometimes and to take flight in a haze of lightness that envelops your being and takes you away...

Quand il me prend dans ses bras
Il me parle tout bas,
Je vois la vie en rose.

Il me dit des mots d'amour,
Des mots de tous les jours,
Et ça me fait quelque chose.

Il est entré dans mon cœur
Une part de bonheur
Dont je connais la cause.

C'est toi pour moi. Moi pour toi
Dans la vie,
Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie.

Et dès que je l'aperçois
Alors je sens en moi
Mon cœur qui bat.

Great Wave off Kanagawa

There is something bewitching about this wave, and wherever I see it I am drawn to it!

This one was painted on the side of a house near Camberwell in Southeast London. Granted it is not a complete (or accurate copy of the original print, which breaks to the right and not to the left...

The initial fear the observer can experience by witnessing its power and proximity are quickly dispelled by the innocent -yet treacherous- beauty of this raw force of nature.

Just for the briefest of moments you can almost smell the salty water and hear the bubbles in the foam, the sound of the water overcoming you... Then the spell is broken; you are safe but back to reality and a bleak urban landscape...

Spinning around (like a record)?

Dead or Alive classic 80s tune you say? Not quite since what has me spinning around is the search for a job!

I went from interviewing for a positions at a pensions magazine on Tuesday to interviewing for a position at a forest products publication today.

Certainly, neither expects me to knowledgeable on the subject matter and I had to train myself at best ways to put forward my transferable skills and blah blah, in a "less factual more 'sales-cy' manner" as one of the recruiters I recently met with advised me.

Among one of the things that makes me feel slightly bipolar is the location factor or I am developing multiple personality disorder...

While the Pensions' mag job is in London and I made sure I highlighted my interested to remain in this country for the next 3-5 yrs the interviewer for the Forest Products mag asked me how I felt about relocation... I said that I obviously had a lot of experience in it -one look at my CV should confirm that - and that I would be more than delighted if the offer was right!

The thing is both answers are truthful... I could stay in London provided I find the 'right' job. I have friends here, and enjoy the social events the city has to offer. Then again I could move to Brussels, after all they do have lovely sugar waffles, chocolate and fries - I'll give beer a miss! Plus, I could even learn some Dutch whilst there...

The weighing of any pros and cons would be heavily influenced by the quality of the offer and the quality of life this offer would enable...

The ties I have in London are either flexible enough (true friendships can survive time and space) or insufficient (it's not like my phone contract is going to prevent me from changing countries).

As for establishing new ties, its not like it is obvious -as you get older you become a bit more 'difficult' when it comes to the people you let into your life - but it's not impossible, and I have certainly done it before.

Should a job be just that, a job? Something I MUST do in order to live/pay the bills? Changing my interests as often as I change socks? Should I just accept that while my job could be potentially interesting I will not necessarily/significantly contribute to my life's happiness?

Still I am secretly hoping I will hear back from this one particular application I sent... Maybe by Monday I'll know... Despite knowing that I shouldn't bring my hopes up I feel that the potential for disappointment at the possible absence of news is quite high.

This job search thing is confusing, emotionally draining and it appears to be very indicative of the conformity that defines the compromises we must make in Life. Sigh!

To thyself be true...

...For "[t]he greatest hazard of all, losing one’s self, can occur very quietly in the world, as if it were nothing at all. No other loss can occur so quietly; any other loss - an arm, a leg, five dollars, a wife, etc. - is sure to be noticed."

— Søren Kierkegaard
(The Sickness Unto Death)

My Friend the Cat...

I admit it I don't know whether its a girl or a boy but then again its a fairly hairy cat and in this instance I am afraid to admit I I wouldn't know what to look for!

We're neighbours and I first found him lazily enjoying those rare moments of sun that bathe this otherwise grey-skied city... So elegant how could you not stop and try to play with it...

I was lucky enough s/he indulged me... I don't know its name but despite that we've become well acquainted as we both stroll up and down Knatchbull Road...

I soon realised it is quite a shameless character (I wouldn't display my flexibility in front of just anyone... and boy! I bet there are quite a few peeps out there who wish they were as flexible as My Friend the Cat!

After today's rainy afternoon my friend came knocking; as it turns out it was not comfortable coming in thru the window so I opened the door to let it in!

Following some meowing which I can't fully decipher and some thorough licking -I seriously wonder how it does not choke in his own hair -and requesting some petting... to all of you pervs out there, I am aware of innuendoes that can derive from this description but keep it PG !

It is now peacefully resting at my feet, fast asleep. I haven't yet decided whether I will let it spend the night... do I trust it enough not to claw away the few bits of furniture in my room...

We shall see!

In Limbo?

...Not quite thinking about the Christian myth version of it... more like a Twilight Zone reality!

Those years where I was no longer a kid but not yet an adult are behind -officially, over a decade behind- but the actual feeling of inadequacy prevails...

Right now I feel trapped in a warp zone... Most of my friends in my age group (even those a few years younger), are settling into 'full-fledged' adulthood... getting married, buying a house, having kids...

I am not quite there yet but the current job situation (or absence thereof) is making me nervous and is somehow contributing to some self-doubt!

But then I have to remind myself that looking back at the 31 years that have been my life (minus those early-childhood years where nobody really remembers anything), I can say that I have never really burnt the steps of life at the same pace of the majority of my peers... Historically, I've tended to do things when the time is right for me...

Strangely enough knowing that does not make me feel particularly cosy inside right now...

I could do with some diversion but not the meaningless type... This is the point where my travels work against me... Right now I wouldn't mind living in the same city as most of my high school and uni friends...

But then again, what are the odds they'd be free? They are after all likely to be part of those friends settling down, getting married, buying a house and having kids...

This is one of those you can't win!

Il est interdit d'interdir

... One of the various slogans which became famous during the famous spring of '68...

A pretty blatant contradiction, especially in the context of freedom of expression, movement, action... Indeed if the state is false then things may or may not be forbidden but if the statement is true then the act of forbidding becomes a fait accompli and I'd say it that the words that make the statement thereby lose most of their meaning!

Funny how a slogan that came out of the desire to 'break free' of the status quo suddenly becomes an agent for it...

Just another irony of life? Perhaps one of the idiosyncrasies of revolutionary movements?

Who knows... what I know is that whether true or false the statement seeks to censor... Every where we look we are censored: "Don't walk on the grass", "Don't run", "Wear a bathing suit"... I can see how the statements fit within a context and how they contribute to the creation of order, which I admit is necessary for societies to function somewhat appropriately...

But on what moral grounds does the censorship required to function socially sacrifice some of the funner aspects of life to some higher authority?

I recently found myself censored by one of my younger brothers...

Apparently one of my Facebook status updates was not 'appropriate'! Now I avoided making an issue out of it by deleting the update and the comments that came below it!

But then I got thinking and truth be told, I didn't really find neither the update or the comments inappropriate... A bit wanton perhaps but for starters HOW is 'appropriate' being defined? WHAT is the moral framework in which this definition in is comprised? WHO was offended by the comments? and WHY?

As someone who had a VERY tame youth (which continued all the way through to my mid 20s) I feel I have the right to have fun as long as nobody gets hurt on the way. There are things that I feel now that I may have felt back then too but I was just to inhibited to admit it -even to myself! In this sense I have broken free -from myself...

In this sense, my definition is true to the etymological origin of the word... It is something I chose to make MINE and not simply the adoption of social norm for the sake of it!

As for the statement I don't really see why my brother got all flustered! So I said I liked "Fresh meat!", it is wrong to objectify anyone and for that I do apologise but not for any of my "appetites"...

Back when my brother was in Uni, he once told me about a competition he had with one of his flatmates. They were keeping track to see who slept with the most girls over an x-period of time... Correct me if I am wrong but was he not then objectifying women and expressing his "needs/wants"?

Just because he is married and has a kid, it does not mean he can disapprove of something which he was happy to enjoy in the past... That is just hypocritical?!

So is my brother's censorship of my Facebook status part of what we become when we are "brought" to 'settle down' and 'grow up'? Is the flame that burns within us tamed -almost extinguished- as part of this process?

Do we lose our spark and when we see it in others do we seek in turn to extinguish it out of fear or just because we have lost touch with that part of ourselves? Is it unavoidable to become co-opted by societal norm? Is it just another phase in life that gets burnt out after a while? Or can we 'grow up' and still keep that flame burning bright?

I don't know but I sure hope that years down the line I won't become that which I am criticising today...

There is no such thing as an absolute truth... ;o)

Winds of change...

Symmetry is often a sign of order, perfection... Some studies have shown that the more symmetric your face the more attractive to others you are.

It is of those elements that you wish you could incorporate into life more often than not. After all so many things in nature are symmetric that it makes sense to want to reproduce it. It should even be second nature...

If it were only that easy!


I was just making an entry in my diary... Although 'diary' is perhaps not the most appropriate of words since I have made 24 entries in the past three years. Yeah I guess my lack of discipline reflects not just on the number of entries in this space... That being said, the entries tend to be fairly long and I've used up half the diary. So maybe I'll need a new one in three years' time. The trees have got to appreciate that! ;o)

So I have not really kept any symmetry there... But then maybe imposing symmetry to life at all costs would certainly make it dull and extremely constraining in terms of experiences...

In all serious business, re-reading some of the entries has been a curious experience.

In a couple of instances I have been TOTALLY OFF. I mean I thought this friend would take a totally different path to the one he has taken... But hey, I am not a fortune teller!

However, the most part the diary has helped me process quite a bit of what has happened in my life in the three years since I moved to London! From questions of confidence, to my feelings on paintings to matters of the heart -even some that could only be described as amorous and frivolous encounters...

It is interesting to have snap shots of moments that have shaped the person whom you are becoming... Then again I am only gaining a year or two perspective on my entries so I wonder how it will feel 10 years from now?

...I just typed that but a decade from today I will be 41 years old, 1 month and a week old... The number starts to sound quite intimidating... A decade sounds like an eternity away but at the rate time flies it is just around the corner! With a bit of luck time will be kind to me -although it is likely I try my best to assist it!

Wonder if I'll be making my first entries in my third diary... provided I continue at the current entry-writing rate...

I'll find out soon enough I guess! In the meantime I think will continue to explore the asymmetry which in some way has entered my life. After all there are too many 'asymmetric' moments of life and it would be a shame to let them go to waste!

Did I mentioned that I snogged a 21 year old at the pub on Saturday night? It was funny... I didn't find him particularly interesting, actually that is probably why I snogged him... It was one of those "Eh! Why not?" moments... I can really grow to like those! ;o)

Street signs...

Besides amusing myself at taking photos of doors, doorways, windows and lampposts I also like street and traffic signs... The above I took not too long ago. I found Logic reasonably stuck on a wall Oxford while Love was refreshingly, hanging from a street light in Camberwell...

I decided this was as good time as any to combine the two which are seemingly opposed concepts. Certainly one is allegedly anchored in reason and scientific method while the other is based on passion, 'random' rush of feelings and emotions.

Yet something tells me they are actually quite similar, if not two sides of the same coin. One cannot be without the other since they temperate each other for...

Passion without Reason is madness and Reason without Passion does not suffice to spark life...

Perspective

When I was in Premiere (Grade 11) reviewing all the texts we had studied during the year in preparation for my French oral I decided I was not keen on Les Fables de La Fontaine... I decided that I wld not really review those. But right then and then I KNEW that I would have to present one of those texts during the exam. Still I didn't revise them. The day of the exam, the examiner had my list and flipped over page one (The Fables were on that page) and then flipped over the second, and the third and when it got to the fourth page... She came back to the first. Luckily for me she picked the one fable I knew fairly well from class...

Then there are those moments in life when we make a decision and SOMETHING inside you already knows that the repercussions of such decisions may not be ideal -far from it even- and yet we choose to ignore it...

Well the same applies to the Silver Surfer affair. I knew I was at risk of developing feelings despite my better judgement. Still, I went ahead...

Car le cœur a ses raisons que la Raison ne connaît point...

In hindsight, there were many signs which I chose to ignore. It is obviously less difficult to make connections between things that have already come to past.

The signs I could probably attribute to instinct or foresight, but I have not learnt to trust the former while the latter is a bit tricky predict. It involves assessing a set of 'variables' before you and attempting to predict how they will evolve while possibly with each other but also within a particular context. As for the context, it will be altered by elements we cannot control.

So right now I am left with these feelings, which I've deprived of their raison d'être... They are funny, these feelings, they appear out of nowhere and they just grow --at times even in 'inhospitable' territory. They will certainly wither away with time... Or so I hope...

A chapter closed

My whole life is upside down... This time last year things were a bit more upbeat, I had just celebrated the conclusion of my 30th year on this earth and I had spent a formidable time in Croatia...

The job was fine and then came the Silver Surfer as my dear friend Angie came to refer to him... I must confess... at first I didn't take it very seriously -who would?

But time passed and I continued to see him and I ended up developing feelings... yes they tend to creep on you when you least expect it!

A year on and I am unemployed, having recently quit the job I moved to in June... as for the Silver Surfer, tonight I closed that chapter as well.

It was not so much a matter of age (although this was somewhat of an issue if you know what I mean). This 'thing' was not going anywhere but I becoming more and more attached... this growing attachment became obvious as the unlabeled affair, a non-relationship by nature, suddenly became one as I battled with the feelings I had and considered how to end the 'relationship'. How ironic!

I know, it doesn't make sense... But then life seldom does!

The prolongued absences; the scarce (read, non-existent) flow of emails or text messages; the lack of communication and emotional intimacy... the case slowly added up him...

Initially, I would tell myself that he was from a different generation and needed time to become at ease.

Then, I also considered his family history: both his granddad and dad were 'successful' men (by most socially normalised definitions) and illustrious community members. Quite a big shadow to hang over you, especially when your dad dies when you are 15 and you are the only boy in house amidst 4 sisters...

I also wondered whether his religious heritage (Jewish) had something to do with the way in which he approached life.

WHY he was so afraid of commitment he has NEVER married, indeed a failed attempt (even if it ends in divorce) at least shows you are willing to confront fears if not vanquish them. But above all it proves you are NOT AFRAID TO LIVE!

Then I wondered whether this woman (whom he was happily hugging in a photo in his studio) had broken his heart so badly he just needed more time. Until about a month or so ago, when upon arriving at his flat I he had just hung a portrait of the same woman behind his entrance door...

As time passed and he evaded questions (with which I only sought to get to know him the man as opposed to him the social/public figure), I just came face to face with a wall. I did try climbing it, picking at it, drilling holes... But I was not making any progress and nor was the non-relationship.

Supported by my lovely friend Lil (who listened to me go on about things forever), and after much debating between my feelings and Reason realised the best thing was/is to move on...

I admit it, I was a fool! After all he did say early on that he was afraid of commitment... I should have walked away right there and then, instead I decided to give it a go... [Feel free to roll your eyes over...]

So, this year has certainly been a roaring one... although certainly NOT the definition of roaring I had in mind when I started this blog.