Monday, 27 July 2009

Sunday, 26 July 2009

Sunday, 28 June 2009

  • "I will not argue the matter : Time wastes too fast : every letter I trace tells me with what rapidity Life follows my pen ; the days and hours of it, more precious, my dear Jenny! than the rubies about thy neck, are flying over our heads like light clouds of a windy day, never to return more -- every thing presses on -- whilst thou are twisting that lock, -- see! it grows grey ; and every time I kiss thy hand to bid adieu, and every absence which follows it, are preludes to that eternal separation which we are shortly to make. --

    -- Heaven have mercy upon us both!"
    (Tristram Shandy, Band 4, Kapitel 8)

Wednesday, 18 March 2009

  • Springtime

    Today was beautiful. It's rare when the air and skies meet to create the perfect day. I've been having a strong desire to really embrace the weather but I keep finding myself lapsing into a consumerist stupor. I want to be the kind of girl that goes into the woods to have a picnic and read for a bit, I always end up lacking the initial motivation to go through with my ideas.

    Wednesday Marcelle and I went to visit Mr. Oppel, my eight grade English teacher at the middle school. It's true what they say, that time flies. It's been seven years since. Mr. Oppel is a very peculiar person. He's very intelligent and has an obvious knack for teaching, but why eighth grade, I don't understand. I suppose it's the age before we start to gain a certain arrogance that goes with a good education, and it's at an age when minds are extremely tender to influence.

Thursday, 12 March 2009

  • The Ozarks

    The New York Times published an article on Springfield, Missouri today. It was odd, in a good sort of way, to see those words printed, its image juxtaposed with the image of the Ozarks created by the Little House on the Prairie series.

    Old music is good. Hearing some of my favorite songs from a few years ago brought some old memories back to life. Oh nostalgia.

Sunday, 08 March 2009

  • Anxiety

    Psychology studies have shown that stress arises from a feeling of lack of uncontrol over one's future. I've been feeling very anxious lately, and although I'm convinced that change is good, it's quite unsettling. I suppose that's part of life; learning to deal with uncertainty and facing the fact.

    I really wonder if I should have studied abroad. People who come back describe the experience as phenonmenal, but ultimately I think they are describe the experience in itself, not so much the personal growth. Having grown up and worked in a different country, I think there's a limit to people's elasticity. Anyway, I think I regret it, but may it was for the best?

    Change happens so fast. It's my third year as a college student, and I'm still largely undecided about my future. It does unsettle me,  as many students have narrowed down their choices, but my scope is still broad and I fear the commitment of being certain.

    Conclusion? I will soak up the fact of an uncertain future, and cherish its uncertainty.

     

Thursday, 12 February 2009

  • Penultimate Year

    Time flies, and I'm not sure I'm quite comfort with its speed. I turn 21 on Sunday. Mom's in China, so I'll spend it with Dad. Saturday is Valentine's Day, I'm not quite sure it was the right time.

    These past few weeks have been a whirlwind. I need to rest, I'm absolutely exhausted.

    I grow old … I grow old …        120
    I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
     
    Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
    I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
    I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
     
    I do not think that they will sing to me.        125
     
    I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
    Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
    When the wind blows the water white and black.
     
    We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
    By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown        130
    Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

    - T.S. Eliot

Monday, 03 November 2008

  • On Time

    Seven, eight years- they'd gone by in the blink of an eye. Are you still young? Don't worry, in another few years you'll be old, and anyway youth isn't worth much here... Time grinds on, year after year, and the eyes grow dull, the minds grow dull, and then another round of children is born. The older ones are sucked into that obscure haze of crimson and gold, and the tiny flecks of glinting gold are the frightened eyes of their predecessors.
    - Love in a Fallen City, Eileen Chang

Monday, 21 April 2008

  • On Nostalgia

    In times of quiet thought, I realize that of all feelings the most difficult to suppress is longing for things past.

    After all is quiet with everyone is in bed, I often while away the long night hours by putting the things around me in order; and as I throw out notes I would not want left behind, I come across a scrap of calligraphy or an idle drawing by one who is no longer with us and feel exactly as I did back then. Or then again I find a letter written by a friend still living but sent long ago, and am moved deeply as I wonder what the occasion might have been, or in what year it was written. It is somehow sad to think that the things that have become one's own over time will go on, oblivious and unchanging, long after one is gone.

    (Essays in Idleness, Yoshida Kaneyoshi)

Wednesday, 16 April 2008

  • In honor of my belated 20th, ensuing finals, musical proclivities, and a rediscovering of my lost xanga, I dedicate this entry to Nietzsche, to whom I owe my new-founded sense of morality. Cheers to a new weblog design and a critical reconsideration of my present code of ethics.

    Currently: Looking forward to the Metropolitan Opera on Friday avec La Femme du Regiment. In a state of slight daze from classes today, in the craze of class registration for next semester. Looking forward to my Evolution of Freudian Psychology seminar in the fall. Enjoying very much the Japanese Classics readings.