People and things inspired me
I know I want to write
I feel inspired to write
I do not know what to write
So
let my heart be the North Star
let my soul be the explorer
let the spillage of paint be art
abstract, impressionist
a craftsman of words
these are too grand for my intention
So
let me be me
a labourer of self expression
a mumbler of everyday stories
a restless night owl hoots composition
It is my sweat and blood you harvest
It is my life you are drawn to
it is the nature you hear
Let me be me
a reflection of you
in beauty
Would you like to tell me about yourself in 3 words?
I love people.
What was your childhood like and what was the fondest memory?
I was well loved and raised by a village, a lonely child though, enjoyed watching the world and people go about their lives.
Laying in bed next to my great grandmother and listening to her sharing stories of her life.
How is your logic vs creativity?
I was only ever good at Chinese literature and English subjects at school. Did I even answer your question?
At what point you decided to write?
I started writing again when I was floating in life and feeling I was ok to die then and there with no regret. For some people it may sound I was content and lived a satisfying life. To me though, that was like I had nothing to look forward to in life. I didn’t even have a bucket list, not for the reason I had done it all. It was for the exact opposite reason which was I had nothing kept me living on.
In a strange way, I came to the end of myself then something reminded me of my writer dream. I started to follow my dream and I became alive again.
Who are your muses?
I love people. My friends, family, colleagues, clients, characters from books or movies are my constant source of inspiration. And my significant others too, be current or history.
What do you consider your greatest achievement and failure so far?
Em… I cannot see either without lying.
What is your plan for your writing future?
I have none. I just write to keep myself alive. One of my dear friends has been encouraging me for years to pursuit excellence. He saw me living a self fulfilling prophecy life. I was determined to be invisible and a second best. I had lived that life for a long time and it finally killed me.
Why do you want to post this Q&A?
I have people asked me similar questions. But for most I would like to be heard and understood.
I see you sold out for Him
fervently and relentlessly
without reservation
What is life worth
if we are held back
by our insecurity
and worldly possession
which counts nothing in eternity
and benefits no one
I see you a preacher
a bearer of the good news
the hunger crowd saw Him
hearing your trials and burdens
gravitated by that killer sense of humour
I see you a friend
to many in despair and torment
they know Him through
your presence and kindness
humbled by your past
I see you
I see you from the beginning
fearfully and wonderfully made
a topaz of the royal crown
when life treating you unkind
let it be
like leaves in the river
hope and disappointment drifting all in one
if you will it will
let it be rotten and spurge again
the regrowth in nature’s hand
let it be
when love giving you pain
let it be
like candle wax dripping losing its form
if you will it will
let it be lost and rebuilt again
the clay in the potter’s hand
let it be
when the world giving you silence
let it be
like a performer on an empty stage
if you will it will
let the clapping be mute and loud again
the art in the creator’s hand
let it be
Its ‘believe for Sally’ Day! Sally is a local hero and a young mother who is fighting late stage of cancer.
I didn’t have tattoos nor piercings. I didn’t believe punching holes in my body, period.
Many years ago, Sally’s sister Rachel and I went to the same church and we love Jesus.
A month ago, an Instagram post struck my eye. It’s an invitation to the Inked Fish Salon to have ‘believe’ tattooed to support Sally.
I am not a person who makes hasty decisions for things with permanency. After a week’s contemplation, I decided to participate ‘believe for Sally’.
I lost people whom I love to cancer is not a piece of news. It happened, happening and will continue to happen. The word ‘believe’ for me, it is beyond believing for miracle healing of cancer, it is believing that we are not allowing cancer to rob us of joy in this life.
When I was 18, my cousin 思丹 was 13. She was a happy, simple and beautiful village girl. We lost her to leukemia shortly after she turned 14.
I clearly remembered that last time I visited her in the hospital. 思丹 loved mangos. I took her a juicy and meaty mango when I visited her. She was as pale as a porcelain doll. They stopped all treatment already. We took turns to brush her forearms, the only thing she found pleasurable in her last days.
I offered her the mango. I saw her eyelashes fluttering like the butterfly emerging from the cocoon. Then she curved her fingers signalling welcome to my offer. I was about to stand up to cut up the mango for 思丹. My uncle rushed off his seat and stopped me doing that. He told me mango is not good for her daughter’s diet. I was a compliant person. I honoured my uncle’s request. So 思丹 died 2 days after deprived from her favourite fruit.
By the village’s tradition, it is a taboo to bury a young person along the ancestors in the family graveyard. So 思丹 was buried somewhere in the forest. To me, that somewhere is a wasteland of nowhere.
I had been angry at myself for a long time, for not fighting for 思丹’s last pleasure of tasting a mango, for not being able to stand up to my uncle’s authority. More over, I hated the fear cancer instilled in my love ones’ hearts. It robbed them blind of simple pleasure and joy in life.
#believe4Sally and beyond, it is my pledge to believe miracle healing and be joyful in tribulations.
“Rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation, continuing steadfast in prayer.” (Romans 12:12)
I was a bit down
yesterday
I stuck in that melancholy rug
I even took a walk
to the bluest sky
and bathed in the most
striking sunshine
I restrained myself from
looking at the shadow patch
where no grass would grow
I turned off the sad tunes
of agony moans
I even played aeroplane
when dining alone
So one spoon full after the next
I conducted self care
By the nightfall is
when the vampires roar
I wrote myself a cheeky poem
to dig myself out of the
depressive hole
Today I sing a love song to you my most intimate friend
You stretched out your hands to me in my distress
You embraced me with warmth and comfort
When I was stuck in my misery, drenched in my sorrow
you came from heaven and met me where I was
You are the most high and yet you came on earth to my rescue
I love you my friend! You are worthy
I know God is faithful and yet I still doubt.
Jacaranda blooms in spring gloriously on this patch of the earth.
In late Springs, I enjoy strolling down the street where they are all lining up and yearning each other. Romantic poems written about the magnificent jacaranda.
Yet, my inclination to jacaranda is God comes through by illustration of its splendour Spring after Spring overcame the nakedness in Winters.
“Consider the lilies, how they grow: they toil not, neither do they spin.”
God IS Faithful!
Flicker of Thoughts 