Uninspired// I Cannot Think of a Title for This Part of the Post

In my head there is a visuals library. The most spectacular photographs and pieces of work which left an impression on me are safely tucked away in my memory.


This is one of them. It is actually a series from the New York times 2002 with about five other images in the collection featuring some of the most stunning pieces of couture work of the season.

Within one of the articles my mom saved me, a a diagram of a dress was featured on the front cover with arrows pointing to the amount of time spent on each part of it. 400 hours alone for the embroidery and more than 23 yards of tulle for the skirt hence the $100,000+ price tag.

I was in the MOMA the other day with my mom, Auntie Jo and Robyn and I remembered it has been a year since I saw this particular 'sound art' piece in a temporary exhibit and it was so stunning to the ears, it made me reevaluate the way I defined what art really was.
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I don't know why I have little to say these days yet in other months spewing out 3000 word essays. I do not feel compelled to write anymore. I can think of a couple of reasons why- just the thought of the next seven weeks burdens the brain and the second has to do with connections with other people.


All of us bloggers like to believe that we blog because we do it for the mere pleasure for ourselves yet I can say in all honesty, comments really do drive me at times because it feels less impersonal and... sterile.
I'd like to say that I think and act unaffected by others but I believe it really is quite impossible since those who matter to me are in my life affect me be it physically, emotionally or whatever.
Let me say in all... that I can muster, is that when people respond, it makes me want to write. Why? Because I know I was able to reach out to someone and found common ground. Sometimes I feel that this blog should be closed down for numerous reasons that are on my account and the account of others. Things are never black and white nor are my shortcomings and the failures of others. I love writing here because I would not be able to talk like this in person- I could try but it wouldn't be the same and I'd end up blogging a response anyway. Yet I can see this blog being an escape- a method for me to get myself 'out there' to avoid taking the risks to get to know people. I am the author of this blog, I maintain it- in all, I am active yet this is one of the reasons why I am so passive in strengthening what friendships I have left.
A lot of my relationships are falling apart at this time. The problem is not fixing it, but... let's say this. Whenever I get close to someone either I move, they move or both. Time and distance have always been the biggest hurdles to face in all my friendships. And most of the time, both parties are not interested or have the will to maintain these friendships. All common ground that we once stood on, has now been separated. I cannot relate to them and they to me. Last week I had the opportunity to have dinner with a visiting friend who I met in Hong Kong back in grade 6. We've kept in touch, the lost it and then she MSNed me telling me she was going to be in town for Spring Break. I guess you can call that an old friend yet I know so little of her and her of I.
Yes I have plenty of opportunities to make new friends but the idea of it is just daunting and tiring. "Introduce, small talk, make efforts to see each other, attempt to build friendship over course of time and eventually become good friends with a select few."
I am so tired of it. I've taken a new mindset to fixing relationships: "whatever, it's going to die some time anyway." Sometimes I just see people who have grown up in one place, and I envy them because they grew up with some people and have a strong group of friends to talk to.

I never told anyone this because I thought I'd be beating it to a pulp and I did not want to blow it out of proportion:
During the past summer I was at Goldsor restaurant at Times Square with my parents and somehow I ended up 'talking' about my frustration with getting/maintaining Christian friendships- I wanted to host the Slingers bbq since they did not have a venue. I thought it could be a way for me to get to know the people in the team and be able to help out. However my mom either wanted to cap off the gathering at 10pm or did not want it hosted at our place at all since she did not know anyone on the Slingers team. I was angry and told her if it were friends from RHCCC, her church, that she would let me have them over because she would probably know them or their parents. In the end, I was crying and venting at her while my dad was trying to keep the situation calm since we were in a restaurant.
Sometimes I just see my friends be greeted by other aunties and uncles at church... and I wonder if my parents went to the same church as I, if I'd be able to get to know the adults of RHCBC and consequentially, the other people in the fellowships. I remember as children we were invited to family cell groups and I'd play with the other kids while the adults discussed more serious matters. At times I really wish my parents went to the same church as my brother and I, yet my dad feels at home at RHCCC since we were there prior to our move to Hong Kong. My mom once told me an RHCBCer decided to stay at the church because Pastor Herman remembered his name. It's one of those little things that makes you want to stay because it sets you apart from the rest of the congregation/sheep/mass.
At times I would trade all that experience I had in Hong Kong for a solid group of church friends which would have been at RHCCC. What is the point of having painful experiences when I could be oblivious and ignorant but happy with a group of peers?

One day I will find a tree as wide as this and have a picnic under its shade. This will not happen if I stay in New York. All I want to do now is escape this concrete jungle and find a square of grass and lie down with the sun on my face- watching the sky tell the passage of time.