Looking at the Negative Spaces in Life
My mom used to say I was too sensitive for my own good.
Well, being the sensitive kind, I took it to heart. So whenever someone would say something at my expense, I'd keep quiet thinking that it was my fault for taking their jokes too seriously. But dealing with these hurtful comments also made me bottle them all in until in one of those rare moments, I'd explode at just one person.
You know what hurts? It hurts when your friends are the ones who talk down to you.
Being the 'sensitive kind', I never try to elevate myself at the expense of others. I don't say to my friends "my english is better than yours. You can't write or express your thoughts if your life depended on it."
So why is it that all my friends here feel the need to establish the 'fact' that their Chinese is better than mine? I saw a certain someone for the first time a few days ago and out of nowhere he asks if his chinese was better than mine and then says that it probably was. At that moment I wasn't angry: initially I just took it like "here we go again" but by the end of our time together, I was so pissed off at him I couldn't look at him. Love keeps no record of wrong but I'm starting to almost sadistically enjoy counting the number of friends who think their Chinese is better than mine. But because of them, I've become extremely self conscious when I speak in another language when in fact I'm pretty okay. However people's comments, as much as I want to stop thinking about them, have really made me second guess everything I say. You want to know why my Chinese may not be as good as people from Canada despite the five years I lived here?
English is the prized language here amongst locals so as a kid I only spoke English to people. I also went to international school, never ate at dai pai dong and chilled at Pacific Place and hated Cafe Coral (dai gah lok).
I felt unique because I spoke English without an accent (save a british one but obviously that's faded). So the only Chinese I really got was by listening: it wasn't until this past christmas when I really started to make a conscious effort to speak more. And having trained myself to not speak cantonese has obviously taken its toll.
I'm really at the brink of slapping someone the next time they decide to compare my chinese with them.
My aunt said that it was probably all in jest, but has no one learned that even lighthearted comments can be the most hurtful? I hate it when my relatives call some of my friends "fei mui jai" (fat young girl) because I know how it must hurt their self esteem.
I've somewhat stopped being nice to particular friends. Their lack of dependency, tact and sensitivity is highly detestable to the point where I'm just rude when I speak to them. If you decide to flake on me last minute I will make no effort to sound polite.
In saying this, on my walk back to the station at Tsim Sha Tsui, I was feeling really depressed. This summer I've realized I've been trying really hard to assimilate into local Hong Kong culture. I've been trying to speak as much Chinese as possible, eating Chinese food, going to places where most people meet up at. There are times when people automatically speak English to me although I haven't said a drop so I attempted to dress more like a local HKer to throw them off.
I was walking along Kowloon Park by myself I had one of those movie moments. It dawned on me,
"why are you trying so hard to be like everyone else when you were born to be different?"
Yeah I'm pretty sure my brain subconsciously filed that line from some Hilary Duff movie but for one reason or another, it was the most comforting thing said to me lately.
If there's a reason for everything, I think I am who I am for a greater purpose that is beyond me at the moment. Despite all my language struggles and my attempts to fit into one culture or another, the reason that I am a "neither" sort of person is unknown to me at the moment, but I trust that God has fashioned me in a way that would be useful on the long run.
I don't want to stand out but at the same time I want to be set apart.
Fashion is not the answer to the latter part of this statement for the youth are far more experimental than ones across the Pacific. I look like everyone else in that I've managed to dress in a way that looks local with brands and prints that most people identify with here.
But everyone tries hard to look like an individual to the point where everyone looks the same.
But I've found it. My ability to draw has become a defining factor that sets me apart from the majority of the people here. Most people here cannot draw; at least they can't draw well but they can copy to an extent. My boss has realized this so now I've become a pseudo graphic designer for her which I'm not really happy about since I was expecting to do more fashion oriented projects. Vivian Yeung, the tv actress, saw my drawings a few days ago at the photoshoot and said I drew well. I'm not saying I am the best but I am competent. Mb not as good as my cousin but how can you compare styles, taste and preference in subject matter?
My sketchbook has given me the ability to cross language barriers; my rainboots a testament of a God-given
talent nurtured over many years. People ask me how long I've been drawing: I've been drawing for as long as I can remember all the way back to kindergarten at Montessori School. Yes it was a natural gift but it's taken a lifetime to learn and fine tune the technique and style.
The other day a student asked me where I was studying and when I said "New York" she was in awe that I was majoring in fashion in one of the fashion capitals of the world. When my friend told her she was studying in Toronto for fashion, she didn't illicit the same enthusiastic response from the student.
Today I went to dimsum and my aunt noticed that the european couple next to our table had no idea they had to flag down a waiter to take their bill. I told them in English that they had to take initiative to find waitstaff and that they would not come to you. The woman commented on how great my English was.
A technique to find out the placement of objects in relation to each other in art is to look at the negative spaces. Whatever my path may be in life, I've started to look at the negative spaces; the flip side of things that may be too subtle to see in the picture. And just as the arrow emerges from the FEDEX logo, I one day hope to see all the good things about being a "neither/nor" person.
------------------------------
Talking to Rin about Phi from Jabbawockeez and how she's stalking him on google cuz he is the perfect man
:
Rin: and a lack of a shirt (phi)
§åM: sigh hopeless
Rin: yeah!! really is!! HAHAAH
§åM: I see you like your men undressed. I like them all covered
Rin: yeah well...undressed is just...straight to teh point
you like the foreplay
HAHAHA kidding!!
§åM:uh WHAT?!?!? RIN OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
I thought I was creepy but Rin takes it a whole new level. XD
Well, being the sensitive kind, I took it to heart. So whenever someone would say something at my expense, I'd keep quiet thinking that it was my fault for taking their jokes too seriously. But dealing with these hurtful comments also made me bottle them all in until in one of those rare moments, I'd explode at just one person.
You know what hurts? It hurts when your friends are the ones who talk down to you.
Being the 'sensitive kind', I never try to elevate myself at the expense of others. I don't say to my friends "my english is better than yours. You can't write or express your thoughts if your life depended on it."
So why is it that all my friends here feel the need to establish the 'fact' that their Chinese is better than mine? I saw a certain someone for the first time a few days ago and out of nowhere he asks if his chinese was better than mine and then says that it probably was. At that moment I wasn't angry: initially I just took it like "here we go again" but by the end of our time together, I was so pissed off at him I couldn't look at him. Love keeps no record of wrong but I'm starting to almost sadistically enjoy counting the number of friends who think their Chinese is better than mine. But because of them, I've become extremely self conscious when I speak in another language when in fact I'm pretty okay. However people's comments, as much as I want to stop thinking about them, have really made me second guess everything I say. You want to know why my Chinese may not be as good as people from Canada despite the five years I lived here?
English is the prized language here amongst locals so as a kid I only spoke English to people. I also went to international school, never ate at dai pai dong and chilled at Pacific Place and hated Cafe Coral (dai gah lok).
I felt unique because I spoke English without an accent (save a british one but obviously that's faded). So the only Chinese I really got was by listening: it wasn't until this past christmas when I really started to make a conscious effort to speak more. And having trained myself to not speak cantonese has obviously taken its toll.
I'm really at the brink of slapping someone the next time they decide to compare my chinese with them.
My aunt said that it was probably all in jest, but has no one learned that even lighthearted comments can be the most hurtful? I hate it when my relatives call some of my friends "fei mui jai" (fat young girl) because I know how it must hurt their self esteem.
I've somewhat stopped being nice to particular friends. Their lack of dependency, tact and sensitivity is highly detestable to the point where I'm just rude when I speak to them. If you decide to flake on me last minute I will make no effort to sound polite.
In saying this, on my walk back to the station at Tsim Sha Tsui, I was feeling really depressed. This summer I've realized I've been trying really hard to assimilate into local Hong Kong culture. I've been trying to speak as much Chinese as possible, eating Chinese food, going to places where most people meet up at. There are times when people automatically speak English to me although I haven't said a drop so I attempted to dress more like a local HKer to throw them off.
I was walking along Kowloon Park by myself I had one of those movie moments. It dawned on me,
"why are you trying so hard to be like everyone else when you were born to be different?"
Yeah I'm pretty sure my brain subconsciously filed that line from some Hilary Duff movie but for one reason or another, it was the most comforting thing said to me lately.
If there's a reason for everything, I think I am who I am for a greater purpose that is beyond me at the moment. Despite all my language struggles and my attempts to fit into one culture or another, the reason that I am a "neither" sort of person is unknown to me at the moment, but I trust that God has fashioned me in a way that would be useful on the long run.
I don't want to stand out but at the same time I want to be set apart.
Fashion is not the answer to the latter part of this statement for the youth are far more experimental than ones across the Pacific. I look like everyone else in that I've managed to dress in a way that looks local with brands and prints that most people identify with here.
But everyone tries hard to look like an individual to the point where everyone looks the same.
But I've found it. My ability to draw has become a defining factor that sets me apart from the majority of the people here. Most people here cannot draw; at least they can't draw well but they can copy to an extent. My boss has realized this so now I've become a pseudo graphic designer for her which I'm not really happy about since I was expecting to do more fashion oriented projects. Vivian Yeung, the tv actress, saw my drawings a few days ago at the photoshoot and said I drew well. I'm not saying I am the best but I am competent. Mb not as good as my cousin but how can you compare styles, taste and preference in subject matter?
My sketchbook has given me the ability to cross language barriers; my rainboots a testament of a God-given
talent nurtured over many years. People ask me how long I've been drawing: I've been drawing for as long as I can remember all the way back to kindergarten at Montessori School. Yes it was a natural gift but it's taken a lifetime to learn and fine tune the technique and style.
The other day a student asked me where I was studying and when I said "New York" she was in awe that I was majoring in fashion in one of the fashion capitals of the world. When my friend told her she was studying in Toronto for fashion, she didn't illicit the same enthusiastic response from the student.
Today I went to dimsum and my aunt noticed that the european couple next to our table had no idea they had to flag down a waiter to take their bill. I told them in English that they had to take initiative to find waitstaff and that they would not come to you. The woman commented on how great my English was.
A technique to find out the placement of objects in relation to each other in art is to look at the negative spaces. Whatever my path may be in life, I've started to look at the negative spaces; the flip side of things that may be too subtle to see in the picture. And just as the arrow emerges from the FEDEX logo, I one day hope to see all the good things about being a "neither/nor" person.
------------------------------
Talking to Rin about Phi from Jabbawockeez and how she's stalking him on google cuz he is the perfect man
:
Rin: and a lack of a shirt (phi)
§åM: sigh hopeless
Rin: yeah!! really is!! HAHAAH
§åM: I see you like your men undressed. I like them all covered
Rin: yeah well...undressed is just...straight to teh point
you like the foreplay
HAHAHA kidding!!
§åM:uh WHAT?!?!? RIN OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
I thought I was creepy but Rin takes it a whole new level. XD
1 Comments:
it's all about keeping the creepiness in check =p didn't want you to go overboard there in HK without me you know ;)
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