Art of Life

14th March 2008

Noise drowned out my inner thoughts as I peered around the cafe. Perhaps she was right when she said that her impression of Dempsey was that it was a somewhat "exclusive" area, due to its inaccessibility. I threw my glances around the interiors of the cafe, shifting my focus from the cosy-looking traditional fire-place, to the complementing decor consisting of retro lamps and abstract art pieces, down to the contrastingly bar lit with a sleek and modern decor.

But more importantly was the crowd that I was scrutinizing through prejudiced eyes, knowing that almost 1 in every 4 of them were part of an *ahem* elite group with the special ability to scale the heights of Dempsey Hill into the recesses of such an oasis. Regardless of the decor, the crowd gave the entire atmosphere a lively and almost self-assuring vibe, one that resonates in your soul that you are part of this "elite" group; yet at the same time, never achieving the cold and impenetrable walls of loud music and dim-lighting in the conventional chill-out places. The only regret was that the live-band was absent to add to the atmosphere.

"Have you decided on what you want?" I asked, as she returned to the table. She nodded, and I ascended from my seat to join the sprawling queue. Fortunately some eye-candy provided some much-needed relief from all the waiting.

Staple Food

Bringing back a bowl of our Ben & Jerry's staple, the Mix 'n' Match (which caters to my need for variety), we savoured the familiar tastes of Strawberry Cheesecake, Chocolate Fudge Brownie and the alien and somewhat funky flavour of the Black Raspberry Yogurt, all while taking the time to bathe in the atmosphere and talking about fellow patrons through the critical eye, oh, and about art too.

"What do you think that painting means? Its so weird that the couple only have one eye each. I wonder what the artist wanted to convey through that?" she wondered, as she stared at the painting across the room.

"Well, the beauty about Art is that... well... it comes down to the interpretation of the artwork. And while I might not be the kind to stare at a painting for hours before forming a conclusion, I can give my interpretation of the painting," I quelled solemnly.

She listened earnestly.

"Actually, I think its just the artist's style to paint his characters with one eye each," I said, bursting into laughter.

"No, I believe that there is much more to it than that," she said adamantly.

"Ok, if you really want an interpretation, then this is how it goes," I said wisely. "The thing about the man and woman embracing each other is a representation of a union, the two of them being one whole. And the fact that each one only has one eye further reinforces this point. Not that you need both eyes to see, but having two eyes sure helps you see the big picture. So the whole thing plays on the concept of 'the other half.' Makes sense to you?"

She contemplated in silence briefly before nodding in acknowledgement.

Cool on Chub... I mean... Greedy

But the silence was short-lived as the sugar-rush derived from the platter of ice-cream probably gave her enough Euphoria to start prancing around the premises and getting inspired enough to play her own artistic role; climbing high and low to attempt to gather artistic shots of the locale, even roping me into the equation.

Parallel Artistic Directions

Finally satisfied with her works, I turned to the aspiring artist and said, "Shall we go?" We left the oasis slightly past the stroke of midnight and headed back to the reminder of our elitism.

Satisfied Artists

"You know what darling, let's go to East Coast. For some odd reason, I have a longing for the sea breeze," I said. And with the spoken word, a few gallons of fuel and about 30 minutes later, there we were, back at the all-too-familiar spot along the sea-side.

Little had changed from our favourite spot, despite the nearly 6-month absence. The seclusion, the seduction and most importantly, the soothing sensation of the sound of the sea, rhythmically pounding away on the shore.

"You know, there is just something so soothing about the sound of water. Like in a lot of Asian cultures, like China and Japan, the whole thing about water is supposed to calm the mind, and is ideal for meditation," I told her as I raised my head.

"Wow, the sky is really clear today, there are SO many stars out tonight," I said in amazement, beholding the beauty of the artistic placement of the stars in the night sky.

"Yeah, I've never seen so many stars in anywhere in Singapore before," she exclaimed with wide-eyed amazement.

"You know, we probably can see a few constellations tonight, if we look hard enough." I said.

"Huh? You mean we can actually see constellations in Singapore?" she asked puzzled.

"Actually yeah, its just a matter of whether the skies are dark enough for you to notice them." I replied. "But the thing is, the whole concept about constellations is that it is entirely an interpretation of the human mind.

"Many constellations don't even really look like what they are supposed to portray. I was just doing my research on this today, and believe me, things like Cancer, is only a group of like 6 visible stars which don't even really resemble a crab AT ALL," I divulged, spreading the seeds of my long hours of research.

Perhaps divulgance is a continuously spreading wave that sears through the human mind and body, as from one platform of divulgance, I started to open up the doors to my inner minds and thoughts, and started to divulge the deep contemplative thoughts that I had formed over all the current issues in my life. Each crash of the waves brought about ripples upon ripples of deep thought manifested into words; and as soothing as the sound of the waves were to the ears, so was the sound of my spoken words to my very soul.

"I don't think you understand, but nevermind" was the phrase that accentuated every other chain of thought and long periods of silence in between; and it was almost always followed by a vehement "No, I understand what you're saying." But honestly, it didn't matter if the entirety of the message was lost in translation or not, the more important thing was the motivation that stirred me enough to hand the keys to the doors of the dark abyss, that is my dark mind and soul, to someone else.

This very motivation served as a very, very pleasant reminder to my soul, exactly 7 months in, of one of the very main reasons of why I fell into what I fell into for the last 7 months; the abstract art of Conversational Chemistry, a motivation that drives one to confide in another through conversation. And once again, I was reminded that this chemistry can even come in the most unlikely of packages.

"Look at that line of stars, don't you feel that it forms a very nice curve?" she said, using her fingers to trace the outline of the stars.

"You know, it kinda looks a little like Scorpio, if only I could find its claws," I said, quinting hard at the reddish night sky.

"Well, I don't see any claws. It just seems to end with a T-shape there," she said pointing to the left.

"Wait a minute, I think those ARE the claws. I think it really is Scorpio. Look! The tail, all the way to the claws," I said taking her finger to trace the shape of the constellation.

"I can't believe we just found Scorpio!" she said, as I turned to her and saw a glint of amazement and appreciation for the beautiful artwork of God.

Losing my Breath in Waves, knowing that every Crash is Bleeding the Hourglass.