oh. look!

2011-09-07T06:33:00.000-07:00

Oh! It's been quite a bit too long since the last post. I didn't realise it's been this long.
So here's to the re-inauguration of this Oh. Look! blog.

I initially started this blog for all you visuals and chewers -- those who like to look and actually see, and those who eat to taste and digest. I felt that I was -- and still am -- seeing and feeling and tasting so much of this world that I've got to share it or else I'd burst open with being too greedy.

I've got to express.

Some people turn to photography -- to the colour, the motion and the wonder of capturing a moment. There are those snazzy and expensive giant lenses, the cute little lomo sets and the almighty iphone camera with a ton of apps to accompany it.

Others turn to dance. To twisting and turning. To motion, to beautiful forms. Or sports. The camaraderie, the sweat and the success.

Then some turn to food.

To music -- different ones for different moods, different situations, different personalities. Some pick up instruments and indulge in the joy of twanging strings and banging keys.

The easiest way to express for me is in the language of poetry. No need for complete sentences, perfect grammar. No need to explain too much. No need to be concrete. Wholly creative, wholly liquid. What is written in black letters on white pages can morph in to so many different things in different people's minds. It's the opposite of what I do for a profession, so it is a perfect balance. I love my job of reporting, writing and being down-to-earth real.

But at night, I want to let myself just flow. Flow in celebration of life. Of what brings life. What life is and what it means to be living.

So here's to hello.
To poetry, to new forms, punctuated by "journal entries" like this one.

Oh.

And so please come again -- I'll post monthly.

Peace.

Going Yond

2010-11-27T00:42:00.000-08:00

Today

Mopped the floor after

and while the floor sparkled gleaming

Sat to enjoy it reminiscent it remind it again of my presence

Of one girl who walked its inches and feet

mind and heart

So much too much A lot

Every corner stuffed full of remembering memories

no, stuffed full of living.

Living here and there and in between them

Can't throw away time

Can't stick around just to soak in those passing these passings

move forward is to move ---------------------- move

To walk and to stretch to open up skin

To shoot through the thick

goes the balloon that cannot hold anymore

goes her out of her skin

Go forward and beyond

Just move and it might shake a new path take it round make a full circle

but go

Clutch eyes clutch them tight step with toes scrunched sweat dripping
drip
drip drip drip

walk and go

trust

birth yond

The floor is emptied full

The floor is fully emptied

crack it and walk it out of the skin

can you hear it?

2010-04-07T19:26:00.000-07:00

can you hear it?

it is the sound of silence

silence that speaks of pain and loss

and heavy tears drenched in shame

can you hear it?

it is the sound of an angry mob

remembering and forgetting what reads in the papers today

yet whose opinions are oh so fragilely swayed

can you hear it?

can you hear the people sing

songs of here and there and everywhere

songs of joy and jubilee and beautiful hope

and of what is to come in the near and far future

can you hear it?

sounds are sounds and music is music

what you hear is what you hear and it doesn't change

yet what you choose to hear is what you will remember

and what you remember will become your constant thought

the consistent thought will toil in your tears
until your tears yield a resolution

and the resolution leaves you forever changed

St. Patrick's

2010-03-17T23:34:00.000-07:00

The Bishop and his Mission

took him on a long journey to the shores

of his enslavers' isles

The Vision his heart bore

followed him

consumed him

sometimes ridiculed him

but never ceased to compel him

So the waves offing and turning

bore him across the miles

to the shore of his enslavers' isles

And since then they celebrate this Bishop's death

they celebrate his Name

Celebrate a people impacted

never to be the same

Hard life sad stories

the long winding years

the wailing of the isles' winds

together drew the bishop's tears

The bishop's prayers

moan in the bells

for salvation

for forgiveness

They call into the deep

"dig the wells

of eternal life

and evade the gates of hell."

And since then they celebrate this Bishop's death

they celebrate his Name

Celebrate a people impacted

never to be the same

The Green the Shamrock and the Bishop's Name

all spread throughout the world into apparent fame

Today beer flows from the bars

the hundreds lie in drunken waste

loud and proud all call and cheer

all drinking in someone's name

Even the evergreen Shamrock

now seem to mock

The Bishop his Mission

his prayer and his call

All these lie lost

along history's forgotten and muddy path

And now we celebrate what bishop's death

We celebrate whose Name

Celebrate what people impacted

Who did not stay the same

Do we remember the Bishop's journey

to his enslavers' isles

his mission and his part

the vision in his heart

his hope for a nation

reborn into life everlasting

Did his message get lost with the years

tarnished by history's moaning winds and offing waves

Or did we just choose to ignore the call to life

afraid of the persecution and the strife?

And today we celebrate with gust and galore

We celebrate an unknown name

Celebrating as a people drunk

as if the Bishop never came

Happy St. Patty's Day : )

Jen

stuck.

2010-03-01T22:43:00.000-08:00

did I give you up, oh blog?

did I give up on my life?

currently sinking in a pool of tired stupor

where time energy and passion clog

no I did not let go of this blog

and yes I will emerge from this strife

by the grace of God and his mighty power

like light shining through the thick fog

the in between posts post...

2009-12-28T09:03:00.000-08:00

Ello. A late merry Christmas and an early happy new year to all of you out there trudging in the snow, braving the stormy winds or enjoying those sunny days. This is an in-between-posts post, typed at 1:05 a.m. on a day after Christmas and before the new year: slightly spontaneous (if blog-writing can be called spontaneous with its non-exciting requirement of sitting in front of a computer) and definitely slightly pointlessly waiting.

Not sure what I'm waiting for, and not sure why I'm not posting those three other pieces I've been working on since November. I guess I'm sitting around, thinking something worth writing will come along: something exciting, provoking, different, fresh, emotional -- something that induces a surge of something more.

We often do that, don't we? We wait, we sit and stare at things and then we wait some more. Always waiting for that spark, that moment, that special BAM WOW WHOOSH, forgetting that we breathe alive at that very moment -- at this very moment.

So I decided to write now. An in-between-posts post: a post that seem to be between the exciting things of the season, a post that seem ordinary, just that plain Jane walking around a normal city street.

Here I am, sitting in my PJs (this old sweater and ugly green pants that are baggy around the bum and the knees) on my bed (with a thousand pillows) with only my bobbled brown and beige christmas lights (bought in Thailand) on in my room (smelling of the Diesel perfume I just bought). Tonight I finished dinner with a lovely group of friends and played a bunch of games including twister, but spent the two days before today in a less pleasant predicament (a.k.a. throwing up till my throat hurt). It's an ordinary moment, happening to an ordinary person, who conveniently belongs to a biggest ethnic group on earth (a.k.a. Chinese). And that's all. Nothing more. That's my moment, that's my now. Boring? Maybe. Ordinary? definitely.

Yet an amazing life is often made up of ordinary moments.

The newer "Some Things..."

2009-11-22T15:03:00.001-08:00

Under the bigger canopy of Jesus, there are some things that I really want to do in my lifetime:

Live and travel in a trailer.

Write and publish books.

Backpack through China.

Try the perfect cup of cappuccino.

Ride a hot-air balloon.

Master Hebrew.

Sing at a pub.

Exhibit.

Walk barefoot on the streets of Hong K

ong.

But right now, still under the bigger canopy of Jesus, I just want to...

Finish my papers.

Paint.

Play my guitar and write more songs.

What about you? What do you want to do now, and what do you want toeventuallyaccomplish?

Confusing sometimes yeh?

Especially when you're at the brink -- the end of something, which is also the beginning of something else.

Well it's okay. Just walk slow, and look deep inside.

Oh! That enchanting bean.

2009-11-16T02:03:00.000-08:00

Coffee spoons of silver and gilt

Sturdy coffee mugs of steam Oh!

The centre around which my student life is built --

Around mugs of juice from coffee beans

Not knowing the evenings, mornings and afternoons

As from my coffee cup I sip

And ignoring the essays that are due so soon

To savour the joys beyond the rim

"For I have known them all already, known them all

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons"

-T. S. Eliot

photo by Jennifer Ngo 2008

Yes I live on the rim of my coffee cup.

This...

2009-11-12T22:49:00.000-08:00

This is...

a look book

a cook book

a muck book.

photos by Jennifer Ngo 2008

now look; eat and drink. digest. then create.

This blog now officially opens for business; the business of observing swallowing absorbing creating.