Wednesday, September 17, 2003
Roller Door
Got to the Hungry Jacks at Kensington Shell Station and it was mighty closed. Was a tad upset. But it's all good. Ended up with some onion and beef stew on egg chiffon. Yum.
Been feeling frustrated yet grateful. Gratitude is something I am learning during this time. For the car I am driving, for the opportunities given to me, for the life I have chosen to live and for the health I am still enjoying.
I guess this is something we all must learn to understand and internalise before we become the adults and useful effective person we ought to be. It's not just about saying grace before meals anymore.
chucKie
Got to the Hungry Jacks at Kensington Shell Station and it was mighty closed. Was a tad upset. But it's all good. Ended up with some onion and beef stew on egg chiffon. Yum.
Been feeling frustrated yet grateful. Gratitude is something I am learning during this time. For the car I am driving, for the opportunities given to me, for the life I have chosen to live and for the health I am still enjoying.
I guess this is something we all must learn to understand and internalise before we become the adults and useful effective person we ought to be. It's not just about saying grace before meals anymore.
chucKie
Thursday, September 11, 2003
Moved
Since Monday, it has been a marathon of moving up and down the stairs, being up and down, picking up the pieces on the ground, shovelling up the debris and stacking up boxes and bags of into what is known as self storage.
In Australia, you can actually rent a small warehouse space to store whatever junk you want. In my case, it made up of a dining table, study table, fridge, washer, TV, desktop PC, futon bed and frame, shelves, and boxes after boxes of books, documents, kitchen ware and other stuff.
On Sunday night, I still had no idea who was going to be there on Monday afternoon to help me move the stuff out. Then by 9pm, the numbers tallied up. Making the team of movers were Sarah, E-Gene, Colin and Rohan, who came even at the last notice to get the job done. I'm eternally grateful. So thank you guys, when the cook takes to the kitchen again, you will be at the dining table with napkins, wine and a full course.
So here I am, stacked against boxes of personal effects to get me through the next month before Steve and I manage to find a place to settle into. The room is snug and cosy. Makes the heater redundant almost. Sleep has been good and undisturbed. Tucked away in a corner like this makes me feel like a toddler's bear in storage. And somehow I'm adjusting very well.
Australian Debut
Wednesday night, last night, I made my debut here in Australia. Took to the stage amid a small pub of 20 plus people, most of which were performers themselves waiting for the next in line.
Here's the track list in order of appearance...
Only Human
Fade
Rain in the South
Weather
Free
My confidence went back as far as my first performance in front of Sharon, my dear friend who stays in the East of Singapore. Cold feet, jitters, the whole shebang. What were to my credit as years of experience on various stages became stored up museum pieces good to look at once broken considered sold fake wax figurines. I was on the line ready to call it quits till the voice on the other end turned me around. In the few words he spoke, though we've never met, it gave me assurance that this was no big deal. So after dinner, I walked alone with my guitar, like before, into that foreign place, plunging into the dimly lit, smoke filled room.
My only fan that night was Shawn. His arrival before I went on helped to take away the fear. It's nice to have at least someone around. Especially when you realise you've forgotten the capo and you're on stage about to sing the next song requiring that and the guitar case with the capo within is sitting behind the audience. So effectively my fan and friend became my guitar tech. Thanks for coming dude! That beer is on me.
So here's to the start of some new adventure.
chucKie
Since Monday, it has been a marathon of moving up and down the stairs, being up and down, picking up the pieces on the ground, shovelling up the debris and stacking up boxes and bags of into what is known as self storage.
In Australia, you can actually rent a small warehouse space to store whatever junk you want. In my case, it made up of a dining table, study table, fridge, washer, TV, desktop PC, futon bed and frame, shelves, and boxes after boxes of books, documents, kitchen ware and other stuff.
On Sunday night, I still had no idea who was going to be there on Monday afternoon to help me move the stuff out. Then by 9pm, the numbers tallied up. Making the team of movers were Sarah, E-Gene, Colin and Rohan, who came even at the last notice to get the job done. I'm eternally grateful. So thank you guys, when the cook takes to the kitchen again, you will be at the dining table with napkins, wine and a full course.
So here I am, stacked against boxes of personal effects to get me through the next month before Steve and I manage to find a place to settle into. The room is snug and cosy. Makes the heater redundant almost. Sleep has been good and undisturbed. Tucked away in a corner like this makes me feel like a toddler's bear in storage. And somehow I'm adjusting very well.
Australian Debut
Wednesday night, last night, I made my debut here in Australia. Took to the stage amid a small pub of 20 plus people, most of which were performers themselves waiting for the next in line.
Here's the track list in order of appearance...
Only Human
Fade
Rain in the South
Weather
Free
My confidence went back as far as my first performance in front of Sharon, my dear friend who stays in the East of Singapore. Cold feet, jitters, the whole shebang. What were to my credit as years of experience on various stages became stored up museum pieces good to look at once broken considered sold fake wax figurines. I was on the line ready to call it quits till the voice on the other end turned me around. In the few words he spoke, though we've never met, it gave me assurance that this was no big deal. So after dinner, I walked alone with my guitar, like before, into that foreign place, plunging into the dimly lit, smoke filled room.
My only fan that night was Shawn. His arrival before I went on helped to take away the fear. It's nice to have at least someone around. Especially when you realise you've forgotten the capo and you're on stage about to sing the next song requiring that and the guitar case with the capo within is sitting behind the audience. So effectively my fan and friend became my guitar tech. Thanks for coming dude! That beer is on me.
So here's to the start of some new adventure.
chucKie
Sunday, September 07, 2003
Free Love
Hug a Tree it's Free. Make Love Not War. Free Love.
The signages on the front yard greeted me as I made my way into the hall. I couldn't recognise the once familiar faces for a while. For a moment, I went into a time machine riveting me back into the 60s flower child hippies era. Your senses were invaded with inscense, sensual trance music in the background and a visual attack of colours reminding you that you have stepped into the peace zone. There was a huge peace sign imprinted on the polished floor boards. Need I say more.
Clearly this was a hippie themed party. I should have made that assumption weeks ago when I saw the job sheet. It says, "Some hippie music to start with".
There were your pink bandanas, overly decked frocks with layers of satin sheets over pastel creme colours. There were wigs, afros, big fizzy hair, beads, peace pendants. Little ceramic buddhas holding a bunch of flowers, floating candles in big bowls, buddhist temple flags and psychedlic postmodern images projected onto the walls via a projector. The room was dimmer than I remember. The secluded burning inscense and the pot smoking in the room made it hazier. Or is there such a word. Right, it was more hazy. You figure.
It became a little bizzare when I was greeted by this guy named Richie, in a normal melbournian styled leather jacket. He had these nice curls that were, according to him, natural dreadlocks! This was my new trainee for the night. How fitting.
Guess I was the only odd one out. As usual. Chinese, non Australia, jet black straight hair, wearing a chapel street party shirt, jacket and an alto-australian accent.
Yet there was utter acceptance in the room. After all, this was, or is, the hippie period. Free love!
As long as they keep their clothes on and their hands to themselves. I swear that big wet kiss from a neo-gothic abba-loving middle aged lady was pushing it. At least there were no lip marks on my cheeks.
Getting picked up when you DJ is a hazard in this line. Last week, it was at the singles party. Last night, a drunk man tried to offer me a drink and a puff of the pot. Professional as I was, I was labelled tight arsed and should relax a little. Well, that's why I am staying away from that stuff. You don't want to loose me in that way. After all, God's the one in control now.
Hope you find real love in the one who created you.
And no, it wasn't free. Someone died for it. His first name is Jesus, his last name, Christ.
chucKie
Hug a Tree it's Free. Make Love Not War. Free Love.
The signages on the front yard greeted me as I made my way into the hall. I couldn't recognise the once familiar faces for a while. For a moment, I went into a time machine riveting me back into the 60s flower child hippies era. Your senses were invaded with inscense, sensual trance music in the background and a visual attack of colours reminding you that you have stepped into the peace zone. There was a huge peace sign imprinted on the polished floor boards. Need I say more.
Clearly this was a hippie themed party. I should have made that assumption weeks ago when I saw the job sheet. It says, "Some hippie music to start with".
There were your pink bandanas, overly decked frocks with layers of satin sheets over pastel creme colours. There were wigs, afros, big fizzy hair, beads, peace pendants. Little ceramic buddhas holding a bunch of flowers, floating candles in big bowls, buddhist temple flags and psychedlic postmodern images projected onto the walls via a projector. The room was dimmer than I remember. The secluded burning inscense and the pot smoking in the room made it hazier. Or is there such a word. Right, it was more hazy. You figure.
It became a little bizzare when I was greeted by this guy named Richie, in a normal melbournian styled leather jacket. He had these nice curls that were, according to him, natural dreadlocks! This was my new trainee for the night. How fitting.
Guess I was the only odd one out. As usual. Chinese, non Australia, jet black straight hair, wearing a chapel street party shirt, jacket and an alto-australian accent.
Yet there was utter acceptance in the room. After all, this was, or is, the hippie period. Free love!
As long as they keep their clothes on and their hands to themselves. I swear that big wet kiss from a neo-gothic abba-loving middle aged lady was pushing it. At least there were no lip marks on my cheeks.
Getting picked up when you DJ is a hazard in this line. Last week, it was at the singles party. Last night, a drunk man tried to offer me a drink and a puff of the pot. Professional as I was, I was labelled tight arsed and should relax a little. Well, that's why I am staying away from that stuff. You don't want to loose me in that way. After all, God's the one in control now.
Hope you find real love in the one who created you.
And no, it wasn't free. Someone died for it. His first name is Jesus, his last name, Christ.
chucKie
Monday, September 01, 2003
New Year
This is a clean slate. A new year. A fresh set of paintboxes and new wood scented paint brushes. Time to celebrate, look back, look forward. Time to work. Work smart. Work at hand. Work hand in hand with the powers that be. That power is my sweet sweet Jesus.
It's going to happen.
chucKie
This is a clean slate. A new year. A fresh set of paintboxes and new wood scented paint brushes. Time to celebrate, look back, look forward. Time to work. Work smart. Work at hand. Work hand in hand with the powers that be. That power is my sweet sweet Jesus.
It's going to happen.
chucKie
