Thesis

I suppose this warrants a post. Even on a dead blog :)

Well, thesis has been a long journey, a very, very long journey...

And at the end of it, I get this:

Talk about encouraging...haha.

Whatever it is, a new life has begun. Brave new world! How will you be?

Before that, I am going to record here, before the memory fades, how difficult thesis was. Because looking back, I'm gonna think thesis was a breeze (maybe, compared to the life ahead, thesis is a breeze...hahahaa). Whatever it is, at this point of time, thesis is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.

Two months before thesis. In school every single day from 8am (wake up at 7am) to 11pm. Closing in to submissions, I discovered bus 30 and 51 could take me home at 12:20am, so that was the time I left. Only tuition and church were distractions. 

All of us lived so long at studio that a studio pantry seemed necessary:

it evolved within a week to this:

and a short while later to this:

then even that failed, so we had this:

man, I love my studio friends. without then, I wouldn't have finished.

After this particular pizza incident, I came down with tonsillitis. Worked at home for a bit. Returned to school to work in the school computer labs, known as the dds. Tried working there for half a day then gave up when the sore throat went worse. Worked from home the rest of the day. Was in dds again the next morning. Sore throat improved a week down to submissions. Got going. 

Carol was a real angel:

Besides being my laser elf (she stayed up till 12am to book laser slots for me even when she was sick) she was also a food elf and elf encourager!! with kinder joy...haha. You will not believe how such a little thing could cheer a sad, sleep deprived thesis student. Even when I couldn't eat it because of my bad throat.

Honey lived under my table, on the warm space above the cpu.

The closer it got to panel submissions, the more sleep deprived we got. The more sleep deprived we got, the harder it got to work. It felt like pure torture. You want to sleep but you can't. Your brain is fuzzy and screaming for rest, you fall asleep randomly and once you jolt awake you continue working even when you don't want to. We began to stay in the dds and not go home. Sleeping on two roller chairs can be kinda comfortable, until you get back home and discover that clean sheets and a bed is the most wonderful thing in the world. When you actually go out of the computer lab, the sun looks so pretty. You wonder when will this whole thing end.

At points, you will want to give up. You will start chatting nonsense to the person next to you. You will start to sing randomly. You will suddenly slam the table and say: I GIVE UP. And suddenly everyone around you will look up with tired eyes and say: nono don't don't give up now just a few more days!! Just finish!!! Just finish will do, don't stop!! Just do.

And suddenly your wonderful friends wake up and talk nonsense just to cheer you up. I can't remember those conversations but I do remember it was punctuated with so much laughter. Friends are so necessary during this period. If I worked from home, I would have just given up and not submitted.

The last night, no one slept. I had one board to produce at 8am in the morning. One whole board! The rush. Clarence helped me to render one scene. Thanks Clarence. Just crazy photoshopping to complete the panels. The rush to west coast plaza in the rain to print. Tommy at scalebar was awesome (I don't work well with Tommy, but I admit, he did a great job at scalebar on submission morning. Thanks and no hard feelings.) Qian Lyn helped me submit panels when I was with Michelle at West Coast. Michelle sent me off with my panels even when she had so many panels to print. I am in awe at the unselfishness all my cohort showed despite the mad rush to personal submissions. There was no bad feeling in the mouth. We were in it together.

After submitting, Zakiah helped me pin up, even when she had already done hers and was probably dying to sleep. Walked around the panels a bit, then went back home and concussed for 15 hours. Then back to school for model making.

3 days to make a model that would normally take more than a week to do. I've tried. Thank God for the elves. 5 people helped me, Weiliang for a couple of hours friday night, Carol, Anh, Val and Eejia the whole afternoon and evening of saturday. Val and Eejia on Sunday afternoon, and Ee Jia stayed with me until 5am Monday morning until she was sure the model was nearly complete and I was safe.

my wonderful elves working hard on my model. sorry val, this one makes you look like you slack...hahaha

I got another egg of joy, haha this time from val!!! Thanks Val!!!

Ren Hui and her elves

Qian Lyn looks lonely here but her dear elf just left cos he had work...

Christy and her elves. Mind you this was taken at 2am, so the elves you see are the faithfullesst in the world.

this is the scene in the morning. kopped from ch:

must have like 20 elves working on one model. finished on time btw. awesome!

Oh btw, elves are the names of juniors (or seniors) who help their architecture seniors (usually) with their submissions. I assure you it is perfectly normal and tutors encourage the calling of friends and family to help a student with their thesis work. Without elves, it is impossible to finish. Other courses may think this is cheating, but they do not understand our workload. (Admission of QL's non-archi boyfriend (and elf): Man, I never knew you guys had to do all these...wah without help cannot finish one!) (okay, this is my own words, but he admitted it, according to QL)

ch stole my elf. 

ch's chio model and chui face (hahahahha i rather like the alliteration)

ee jia didn't want to have her photo taken. But seriously, I am terribly touched that she stayed till 5am for me. Best friend!! and that's my fairly chio model :)

damn complicated.

michell and owen. I dare say, i have never seen an elf as faithful as owen. archi juniors, do get a gf or bf from archi before you face thesis. they are the most faithful elves in the world. owen took off from work and overnighted with michelle for nearly 3 nights and rendered half her scenes. he was there consistently and worked even when michelle was sleeping. man. respect.

done! oh donee!!!!

Okay, actually I have a thesis report due tmr. byebye.

I AM SO GLAD THESIS IS OVER. I LOVE MY BED.

Hullo, I realize I forgot to mention God.

Well, I dare say my spiritual life went into slump during thesis. Especially during the end period. I did pray, but more or less sporadically. He was there, yet not there. I wonder what my relationship with God is like. I do think of Him constantly, but I tend not to mention Him all the time. 

He's just kinda there...haha.

Is this the wrong way to do things?

Hello God.

I know You are here, and You have had Your hand in everything.

:) Thank You God, thanks for all the things You've helped me with. Thank You for helping me complete thesis. Thank You for the friends You've blessed me with, thank You for the support and thank You for oh all the blessings I've received and the experiences I've been through. Thank You for all the hard work I've had to do and all the difficulties and thank You that I'm all through and I'm done and I'm alive.

Thank You for the sun in the sky, and that it didn't rain that day I was rushing back and praying it wouldn't rain until I stepped into the house. Thank You that I was sick, so I did rest and not hurt myself more. Thank You for Your constant reminders that I must be humble and thank You that I couldn't do it on my own. Thank You that I learned from thesis that I am not a one man show and that I have wonderful friends around me who love me and would do so many things for me and that I will do it for them too and I shall ask for nothing back.

Thank You that I'm alive and right now I have this future ahead of me and it's full of Your promises. Thank You Lord, thank You thank You!!

Thank You that You are everything and I am nothing and nothing I can do or not do will ever throw me out of Your sight. Thank You that You are wonderful and gracious and You love me even when I don't deserve to be loved. Thank You that I learn through thesis that there is so much I do not deserve but it is given anyway.

Thank You Lord!!!

worth fighting for

what is worth fighting for?

and what is not...

:(

i don't feel very well, and i have stomach pain.

i wonder what would happen if i were really sick...

thesis? what would happen to a year of work (okay maybe like 6 months?)

could i last another year?

what if...i had this really terrible disease...and i couldn't live for more than a year?

what would I do then?

what becomes important when there's no time left?

i know what i won't do if i had only one year left.

i won't do anymore architecture because it means barely anything to me...right now...

i think i would like to see the world a bit. maybe confess my love to someone...though right now there's really no one i think i love very much right now, i'll find someone to love just so i can do it. haha. maybe if i did that now i wouldn't be single, right? :P does love happen at first sight? i don't know...for me i guess i might just find someone to love, cos love is a choice, isn't it? a decision to love someone...not something you fall into, right?

or i just don't know what it is.

have you ever cried because a couple broke up? i think i have. i think it was because it broke all my pretty pictures of love. i thought they were a perfect couple, and then they weren't. and that dashed my hopes. i suppose that's how children of divorced parents feel. i don't even have divorced parents. anyway, i'm sitting here crying because a couple i thought would last forever broke up. i don't know why i'm crying, it might be i'm just a bit mental right now due to too much stress and worry about thesis and falling sick. and i'm getting too emotional. i should stop. maybe i need to visit a psychiatrist.

i'm not crazy, yet. but i'm depression prone, i might topple over the hill if anything happens. okay i won't. my practical side will pick up the pieces. i think i'm a very hard person to live with. i'm both mental and practical. i'm a person of extremes.

They say your defining weakness might be your defining strength.

moderation, is important. a happy medium. i read about her in A Wrinkle in Time. I remember the period i read that book, when Ah Kong was ill and mom would bring us to Singapore in batches and uncle/aunty would bring us to the library to choose books to read while mum took care of Ah Kong. I remember indulging in Fantasy at that time. It was the Fantasy period. Fantasy/Scinece Fiction. I remember a green book about mazes that I read and reread because it was fascinating. I can only remember the green cover and it's fascination. I cannot reread it because i forget the title and the story.

is this the product of delirium? i'm unsure of what i am writing about.

i'm writing of love and dashed hopes. and what to do if i had only one year left to live.

i would love to indulge in that...but i am also practical.

i'm so conflicted. on one hand i am sentimental and messy and diverted and romantic. on the other hand i am ruthlessly practical and legalistic. who am i? i don't exactly know.

i was thinking of writing about something else. the usual crap i like to spew that gives me great joy.

i tried to write a story in my head one day about a girl. and since i had only one model in my head it began to sound like an autobiography. i discovered that my life is really very interesting if i wrote it out the right way and left out all the mundane stuff.

words it seems, can deceive people terribly. one can make any person sound beautiful, or make a person sound evil and disgusting. You can do it with the same facts, you just have to create an atmosphere. I realize art and photography is the same. The addition of props and a turn of color can change the whole perception of an image. Those peripherals suggest what is not said but is there.

times have changed since this blog was begun. i write less in this manner, i write more in short gasps.

today i have been sick and i think despite my thesis i am going to write something very long and not edit it.

and don't think of beginnings or endings but write how i feel from beginning to end and never stop until i'm satiated.

writing satisfies me.

i think i like books.

oh! and did you know i love being random too!

you know, whatever i write, i might not even mean? because even though i mean what i write i don't really know what i mean.

i feel like stopping now. i have much to write...but somehow i feel like stopping. why? because i feel that what i write here really doesn't mean anything to anyone.

does it matter if it means anything to anyone? i used to think i didn't care. but maybe i do care.

i've put myself up against false humility. CS Lewis or some other respected individual said this: That True humility is not thinking less of yourself but rather thinking of yourself less. So it means i'm really rather proud because i think of myself so often.

Maybe that's my whole problem, this pride thing.

I wonder if this is getting anywhere. I don't know why I'm writing but I feel I need to clear somethings in my head and I always clear my head when I write. At least I used to. I stopped for a bit but now I feel I need it again because my head refuses to be cleared no matter what I do so I better try writing just in case it works. Not a very noble reason to write, I dare say.

Wow I feel quite proud of all the words up there, even if it means nothing.

Oh my mind is not cleared...but I feel this strange aversion to writing now.

I cannot let my feelings bind me!

Hahahaha. I feel like I'm in the Lord of the Rings and Gandalf shouts: YOU SHALL NOT PASS!

This crazy, crazy mind in me!!

Why am I so afraid of the future?

He's more than that.

I shall stop now. I want to reread it and I might as well stop.

The world defined by odors

"It is the citrus one I want," Tommy said. "With a hint of musk."

"Right-o" Dominikus smiled. He booted up his olfactory computer, a LINE, of course, designers always preferred the LINEd version. So much sleeker.

The combination of smells was a tricky business. To become a smell designer was a tedious task requiring at least four years of schooling, but to be a smell architect took at least 8 years and another 5 or so of experience before the final thesis could be written and one were allowed to generate olfactory spaces. Dominikus failed his entrance exam to architecture, hence his final decision to become a smell designer.

Harder still was the combining of tastes and smells, thus the "Chef" was one of the hardest things to become. Years ago, the mastery of sight and space had taken over the world, but that time had passed, along with the world of sound.

The chemosensory had taken over.

Sight, sound, touch! So passe!

Smell was so instant, so perceptive. Wasn't a designer meant to be intuitive! To work from something inside, and not outside. The design world was now completely intuitive! Where it should be. Designers were born and trained, but never, never, made.

Dominikus ran Olfac-shop, an intuitive computer programme where he could combine smells and put together a series to advertise Tommy's latest business venture. He had a date with Sylvia later, his girlfriend of 2 and a quarter years. She had passed her architect's exam. They had planned to become Olfactory Architects together, when they first became a couple. Where had that gone? But the practical aspects of their differing education came in handy. He was working and cash flowed in, because whatever it was, Dominikus was a very good Olfactory Designer. They could be married in another 2 years, at the rate Dominikus was going.

He whistled a tune as he touched and tuned the various molecules in the air. The sweet, cloying scent of musk. The sharp tang of citrus. Perhaps, a walnut tint would settle the Whole. It would be a desirable scent. A scent he had been working on previously returned to his mind, perhaps by including that combination he could create a completely new scent, one which would boggle Tommy's mind. It had induced the exact element of desire back then in the Olfactory Factory, and the advertisement it had been used in had been featured in "Arts" the foremost Design Magazine, which was unusual for a commercial venture.

Dominikus knew he was meant for greater things.

He saved his work, picked up his soft leather bag (Chamois, with a hint of Africa, an amazing scent, designed by a student, Mark Theis, a very promising kid) and walked out of his Working Zone and into the busy street. He had to follow Orchid street and turn off into Skunk road for a little before entering Winery street on the left, where Sylvia said she would be waiting. He liked Winery street, a very old and ancient part of the city, "well-aged, and very hippy" as Sylvia loved to say, architect-style. And the chef's who worked there were the top of their line, very inspiring for an Olfactory Designer.

Skunk Road, on the other hand, was a rather sleazy part of town. Dark and dingy, it had the cold, metallic smell of old engines and dried blood. He turned in from the bustle of Orchid Road and pulled his coat closer toward himself, enveloping his face with the expensive Damask.

Which was a type of wool and a smell, of course. Smells were woven into the threads, a wonderful way of introducing special combinations that suited each individual. Fearsome. If Dominikus hadn't become an Olfactory Designer of Wholes, perhaps he would have gone into the Garment line. He heard a rather loud sound behind the walls of skunk street, some shouting, but enveloped himself further in the folds of his damask, separating himself as much as he could from the skunk zone.

Winery Road at last. Dominikus frowned to himself. Smell, so fleeting, gone in an instant, but sometimes pervasive. Unfortunate, that smells were molecular. The stench of Skunk Road still hung around him. But ah, he had arrived.

--extract from A World Defined By Odors, by Faith Zhou

Happy Valentines Day!!!

I can't wait to tomorrow
This feeling has swallowed me whole
And know that I've lost control
This heart that I've followed
Has left me so hollow
That was then, this is now, yeah you have changed everything

Everytime I see your face
My heart takes off on a high speed chase
Now don't be scared, it's only love
That we're falling in
I would never do you wrong
Or let you down or lead you on
Don't look down, it's only love
Baby, that we're falling in
--Falling In, Lifehouse

:) Happy Valentines Day everyone!!! :DDDDDD

The Lady

First came bright Spirits, not the Spirits of men, who danced and scattered flowers-soundlessly falling, lightly drifting flowers, though by the standards of the ghost-world each petal would have weighed a hundred-weight and their fall would have been like the crashing of boulders. Then, on the left and right, at each side of the forest avenue, came youthful shapes, boys upon one hand, and girls upon the other. If I could remember their singing and write down the notes, no man who read that score would ever grow sick or old. Between them went musicians: and after these a lady in whose honour all this was being done.

I cannot now remember whether she was naked or clothed. If she were naked, then it must have been the almost visible penumbra of her courtesy and joy which produces in my memory the illusion of a great and shining train that followed her across the happy grass. If she were clothed, then the illusion of nakedness is doubtless due to the clarity with which her inmost spirit shone through the clothes. For clothes in that country are not a disguise: the spiritual body lives along each thread and turns them into living organs. A robe or a crown is there as much one of the wearer’s features as a lip or an eye. But I have forgotten. And only partly do I remember the unbearable beauty of her face.

“Is it? … is it?” I whispered to my guide. “Not at all,” said he. “It’s someone ye’ll never have heard of. Her name on earth was Sarah Smith and she lived at Golders Green.” “She seems to be … well, a person of particular importance?” “Aye. She is one of the great ones. Ye have heard that fame in this country and fame on Earth are two quite different things.” “And who are these gigantic people … look! They’re like emeralds … who are dancing and throwing flowers before her?” “Haven’t ye read your Milton? A thousand livened angels lackey her,” “And who are all these young men and women on each side?” “They are her sons and daughters.” “She must have had a very large family, Sir.” “Every young man or boy that met her became her son-even if it was only the boy that brought the meat to her back door. Every girl that met her was her daughter.” “Isn’t that a bit hard on their own parents?” “No. There are those that steal other people’s children. But her motherhood was of a different kind. Those on whom it fell went back to their natural parents loving them more. Few men looked on her without becoming, in a certain fashion, her lovers. But it was the kind of love that made them not less true, but truer, to their own wives.”

“And how … but hullo! What are all these animals? A cat-two cats-dozens of cats. And all those dogs … why, I can’t count them. And the birds. And the horses.” “They are her beasts.” “Did she keep a sort of zoo? I mean, this is a bit too much.” “Every beast and bird that came near her had its place in her love. In her they became themselves. And now the abundance of life she has in Christ from the Father flows over into them.” I looked at my Teacher in amazement. “Yes,” he said. “It is like when you throw a stone into a pool, and the concentric waves spread out further and further. Who knows where it will end? Redeemed humanity is still young, it has hardly come to its full strength. But already there is joy enough in the little finger of a great saint such as yonder lady to waken all the dead things of the universe into life.”

—The Great Divorce, CS Lewis

I read this a long time ago. And this image has always imprinted itself in my mind as "the person I longed to be". Isn't this a picture of what a Christian ought to be? A person who changes and fills her surroundings with the love of the Father. With the selfless Agape love that is like concentric circles, spreading forward and onward.

Such love will awaken all the dead things of the universe into life. And this love is filled with joy!!

Merry Christmas

Hellow long abandoned blog!

Merry Christmas everyone!! :DDDDD

Dialogue in the Dark

as some of you might know, my thesis topic is called (at the moment) a development centre for the blind. I was going to use visually handicapped, but I find it bothers the blind to be called handicapped more than blind, so i shall stick to blind.

renhui told me about this thing going on at ngee ann poly called dialogue in the dark, so this morning, having nothing in particular to do, i went.

i called them at 945am to ask if there were slots, then they said what was the earliest i could come…i told them 11…so they said ok come at 11!

the afternoon was booked full though.

so i arrived at ngee ann poly sharp at 11am…and guess what i was the only person there!! hahahaa. student pricing was sgd12, so i paid up and was led into a dark room by a perky young lady (sighted) and was briefed about what would happen.

then the door opened into the dark…

when i entered, a warm voice welcomed me in and asked me to move toward his voice. i did so and felt the floor texture change. the voice asked me what it was…i said it felt like grass.

it was a very friendly voice, and as the voice kept talking, i was able to navigate the space very well with the help of my walking cane.

being in the dark is really not that scary. i felt comfortable despite not being able to see anything. for some reason, when i was in the dark my eyes kept watering and searching for a light somewhere…i caught a dim red glow somewhere during the journey in the dark but otherwise it was pitch black.

I found myself listening to the voice of my guide, who kept up an amiable chatter throughout. He had quite a funny sense of humor and tended to make funny assumptions about things that i couldn’t help laughing at and warming to.

so i guess it was because i had a guide that i didn’t feel scared.

i was wondering if my other senses would suddenly enhance themselves once i entered the dark space. i found that didn’t really happen. i found instead that i had to think more. I had to pay attention to what my senses were already picking up.

i could identify materials easily, i could sense if i were walking on carpet, on wood, on gravel, on pebbles…but i had to pay a great deal of attention. If I started a conversation with my guide, i tended to lose track of what i was doing, because it required so much concentration.

the experience was largely a very enclosed one. nothing could prepare me for real blindness, if it ever happened to me. imagine walking around and navigating traffic, finding your way around in the big bad world outside.

and i was in a safe environment with a very capable guide who told me what places were.

besides concentration, there was also a lot of logical thinking to do. For example, if I were in a moving vehicle, if the wind blowed in my direction, it would mean i were facing the direction of movement. unfortunately, i didn’t figure that out, i mixed up the directions because my brain was thinking the wind was coming from a fan, so there would be open space in front…without sight, there are many things a blind person could mistake as something else, because they rely on hearing a lot, and hearing can sometimes be misguided.

after the journey through the dark, i had coffee and a cookie in the dark and got to chit chat with my guide. I told him I was doing my thesis in architecture on the Blind. He was an amazing blind date. (I couldn’t help that…lol). He was far more interesting than most guys I know. It helped that I couldn’t see him at all…

You know, I think blind dates should be like that. I mean, we would truly get to know a person without actually seeing how they look, so we get a glimpse into their personalities and character rather than focusing on their physical attributes.

Anyway, I asked him about stuff like what was his favorite place in Singapore (Universal Studios, he likes roller coasters because he kind of can’t see how high he is but once he plunges down he sort of knows he was really high up). And then I found out he was blind since birth, and he has a sister and lives in an apartment and likes twitter but isn’t much of a facebook person (because he can’t see faces…dotdotdot). And he plays football with a plastic bag around it with blind and semi-visually impaired people and the totally blind can’t play striker (because the goalkeepers won’t tell him where the goalposts are). And he stalks women at traffic junctions because he can hear their high heels.

And that he’s been to Gold Coast and HK (and more, but I never asked) and loves iphone apps because there are many that cater for the blind (they read out stuff for him).

And that if he were in a soundproof room, he wouldn’t be able to judge the size of the room because he couldn’t hear a thing. And that he would have to feel around instead.

And that all rooms have acoustics and resonance and he can judge high ceilings and low ceilings and listens for echoes.

How cool is that? He is as able as you or i, and he goes out alone all over singapore (but he doesn’t like sg cos it’s hot).

he thinks guide dogs aren’t very useful (oh there’s only ONE guide dog in the whole of singapore, imagine!) because they only prevent you from falling into drains. Otherwise you have to guide them and must know where you want to go. And you don’t have to feed walking canes.

So, I wanted to write all these down because I might forget all these points (didn’t write anything down in the dark…)

anyway, it was an amazing experience and I might go there again when there are more people (more of an experience as there would be people to bump into and knock with a cane and stuff, more real).

Well, I really enjoyed my trip there. Do go! It’ll help the blind people support themselves, and you’ll learn to really appreciate your sight.

http://www.dialogueinthedark.com.sg/DiD/Pages/default.aspx

Also, you’ll find that blind people are just like you and me, human beings with hopes and dreams and they are so capable and brave and have overcome so much more than most of us. I am afraid I was thinking of blind people in categories, and asked some stupid questions like “hmm, but shouldn’t all blind people love music?” and then my guide, his name is kelvin by the way, said: “Oh they have their own hobbies…like you all…sometimes you like music, sometimes they don’t. sometimes they like crafts, they like cooking, they like different things…”

wah I must have really riled him, but he didn’t show it, he was really high eq-ed throughout. I was so stupidly judgmental.

Anyway, I didn’t leave without some momentos!

I got a braille card!

braille

i got an orange water bottle too (i love the color…)

meet my blind guide, Kelvin! That’s the braille wall behind…I like the wall color :D

I SO APPRECIATE BEING SIGHTED NOWWWW...and the blind are SUCH AMAZING PEOPLE.