People Who Get It: Jens Lekman

Once, I was bored of studying for exams and decided to shoot Jens an email on a whim. I asked if he was allergic to nuts. He responded the following morning that he was not and wondered if Toronto was full of them.
I started to imagine the city sitting on top of a nut-mine... which would explain how the squirrels always manage to dig up nuts everywhere on the ground!
I actually told Jens that. I think it freaked him out.

This past Friday, I ended up at the Danforth Music Hall for Purity Ring and Dirty Projectors.
Purity Ring is what I fancy Tom Lowery and I would be like if we were to pursue forming a [real] band -- weird and dream-like (complete with grotesque, anatomical lyricism with a cutesy spin -- haha, what?):

Seeing Dirty Projectors live made me all nostalgic and sad-like (but not really, Melody and I were actually quite giggly but that's a whole other story). Nostalgia did hit me inside, though; it "cut open my sternum and pull(ed) my little ribs around," kinda.


"Bitte Orca" oddly served as the go-to soundtrack for afternoon teas in Oxford. Very atypical, but things that don't usually seem right or proper end up being so apt sometimes. Life is funny that way.

This is how my Oxford kitchen looked like in the afternoons -- with Marie as a permanent staple. (I could lie and say the minimalist look was deliberate but you'd see right through it, anyway.)


Today happens to be Marie's birthday (whose back I've photographed too many a time), prompting the following nostalgia/mush-fueled photo-purge.

walking back to Worcester after the usual afternoon jaunt around Oxford (not without getting dinner at Jericho first, obviously)

Edinburgh

Rough Trade photo booth

Stratford-upon-Avon

Happy Sunday!

daydream delusion

Whenever I feel like I am in a rut of some sort, this poem usually takes me out of it:

garble

When thoughts rush out and spring new tributary-thoughts with them that ultimately generate a thousand more streams can be frustrating. Sometimes it seems like things are turning out to resemble a Godard traffic scene in the middle of nowhere where the road is narrow, and there's simply no way for you to turn back and the truck in front of you is carrying livestock, and you're top is down and broken, so there's no way of blocking the stench, and the humidity is making it all worse...

You're watching this whole thing as if in a dream sequence, and you have no idea what is going on and where this scene is going to lead to, and there's no way of finding out because the dialogue is unclear. Everyone is talking at the same time, and even the subtitles aren't helping. The scene goes on for days, ages, until you feel so sick, you don't even get to see how it all comes together in the end - if it does.

incidental reflection of feelings in grayscale

"Isn't it strange how people never form a whole? [...] They never come together. They remain separate. Each goes his own way, distrustful and tragic. Even when they're together, in big buildings, or in the street."

- Franz, Band of Outsiders

But I haven't got a stitch to wear...

a frustrated Cher in Clueless

I’ve recently started monitoring my purchases since the year started. And at first, I was in awe.
Now, I just feel nothing but disgust for myself for being able to spend so much in such a short period of time. It’s scary how quickly I’m able to make money disappear.

A lot of this have to do with impulse buying. It’s dangerous and not at all worth it, but is sadly and shamefully a terrible habit of mine.
Sure, a $20 top from H&M doesn’t really seem like it would hurt, neither would a £4 skirt, which may initially seem like a bargain triumph.
(FACT: I once purchased a £6 horse-print dress from Primark without trying it on. I thought, Ahhh, Horses! At this price! And it’s the last one in my size – I have to get it! I then went home and forgot about it, almost as quickly as my decision to buy it. When I came across it again in my luggage, I couldn’t figure out why I bought it in the first place. Despite the cute galloping horses all over the dress, the colour did not suit me at all; it fit like a stiff apron, and the quality, needless to say, was awful. Yet I felt no pangs of regret then because, oh well, what’s £6, right? If I could go back in time, I would totally kick myself in the shin. That’s about $10 down the drain, and no way of getting it back.)
In the long run, these little, seemingly insignificant purchases add up. In the past 4 months alone, I would have been able to afford a good camera and a new iPod, or airfare to cross the Atlantic if I only saved. Now that $20 top and £4 skirt are sitting in my closet, only worn twice, maybe 3 times, and already, it’s become threadbare, faded and awaiting for disposal. (The £6 Primark dress had long been donated. I got rid of it as quickly as possible. I think, subconsciously, the item served as a testament of how out-of-control my habits were becoming. But I was still hesitant to admit it then.)

For many a time, I’ve stood in my room, frustrated – not knowing what or whining about having “nothing” to wear. It’s these too-common instances of frustration that fuel the urge to buy, buy, buy, and it’s a costly attitude to have.
It’s definitely high time for me to change my ways. It’s a learning process, and it will definitely take some getting used to – and loads of discipline and self-restraint! But I’m determined to follow through. I have to. Over-consumption is not only depletive for finances but also very unhealthy for the environment! (My high school environmental club president-self must be very disappointed in me.)
And I certainly do not need any more stuff to add to a life of clutter.

fall feelings

Rain just started to drizzle. It's cold out, but not the biting kind. Fall mornings have always been a favourite. I indulged myself today by staying in bed a few minutes (a half hour) more before rising. It's also around this time of year when it increasingly becomes more difficult to get up. But I'm actually glad I have morning classes. Last year, they were mostly in the afternoon, so my days always started late. My school schedule usually reflects how my day goes. I imagine it's the same for most students.

It always feels like as soon as noon passes, things begin to lose charm. Not just pertaining to appearance -- though make-up applied in the morning usually vanishes by 3pm, or at least its initial allure. I don't know, I guess the afternoon malaise just makes it harder to "keep on keepin' on" sometimes.

I miss being told that phrase repeatedly. I miss a lot of things.

Now that I'm back to school full-time, my subconscious has resumed its production of apocalyptic, Kafkaesque manifestations in dream-form.

Last night, there was another chaotic outbreak, potentially of the zombie-variety. I have no idea what this means. Obviously. But I feel like every time the world ends, in film or imagination, there's always some kind of disintegration of social order. Whether there's zombies, an outbreak of a contagious fatal disease, or a really corrupt government -- it's always taken to the extreme. It's never anything dull or mundane.

I wonder if this is a reflection of our(?) refusal to accept  the starkness of abrupt endings. Things don't usually end in large-scale, swooping conclusions.They just cease.