Endings

And so, quite suddenly it seems,
we're in our last week of filming.

Yes, it's been a long journey, with long, long days (wayyyyyyy longer for the amazing and hardworking people I've had the pleasure of working with). But while we've been tired and started out barely able to see the week we'd shoot the last episode,
suddenly,
here we are.


It's been sounding like this'll launch us into another phase that is just as (if not more) exciting. I hope it all turns out as promising as it's been sounding.
I'm excited(:

Like a breath of fresh air

So quite a few things have happened in the last week and a half.

One of them being that I've just come on board as one of the female leads in an upcoming tv series called What Do Men Want.
It's an exciting, relatable, funny string of episodes put together by Christian Lee and Jason Chan of BananaMana, who wrote and will be directing this series. And who, as if all that isn't enough on their plates, will also be playing our male leads.
I swear to God, I don't know how people like them do it- do so many things all at once.
And speaking of doing many things at once, to my right is Glory Ngim, who plays the other female lead in What Do Men Want. She too is heavily involved in theatre and lots of other projects at the same time, and while I am mostly in awe of this team who juggle acting, writing, family life and being a normal (kind of), sane (almost) person, it's also nice to know that I'm in the same space as people who are just as committed to their craft.

SO YES!
We've just come together for the first bout of photoshoots, styling, interviews and talks about the show. We're set to shoot in just a week, and will be out by the time September/October rolls around.
I'm incredibly psyched- it feels like a bit of an adventure we're going on, and I can't wait for all of you to see it(:

_____________________________________________________

Work aside,
there's been... well more work, but a different sort.
Ms C's Little Blackbox had officially come around. And I'll be talking with people about workshops I can run, whether in Singapore or otherwise, which is most exciting indeed.

Wish me luck!

_____________________________________________________

And then, just like that, we're five days away from hopping onto a plane to Perth.
There's a whole lot waiting for us on the other side (including my best friend in Melbourne who I'm dying to see), and I'm keeping my fingers crossed for all of it.

Getting comfortable isn't always good, and I think it's about time to take myself outside of here.

So.
Ready, get set,
go(:

_____________________________________________________


"But that's not the best part. I mean, the best part, is that you get to go on an adventure. Together."

React, or Respond- your pick

So.
It's over now. I can breathe a bit, I think. The final run we had, on top of it being very different from anything we'd done before was also a two-day craze. It wasn't like we'd rehearsed for months and TA-DA, this is it. That was for the first show on Wednesday, and then it's like we had to go through tunnels and secret passages and jump over secret codes, avoid swinging blades to finally get to last night.


It's April. With less than ten days til its end.
In the four months that have gone by, all the things that I have learnt have been experiential. All the things I have learnt have come from dealing with stuff being hurled at me from school, from racing around like a madman two hours before a show asking for empty bottles, from watching lines of pain get etched in the faces of people close to me as I've worked between crumbling and throwing myself into whatever is at hand.

I don't want to be an actor.
I did, very much, as a child. I grew up on film sets, in acting classes, in improvising mime scenes when I'd be caught zoning out while in those acting classes. But I don't want to be an actor. At least, not just an actor.
There's so much more that I feel like I have to do. And sure, sometimes it's really nice to just get on set and work with people who you can trust and just, be directed. But somehow, as I have grown, I've found it increasingly hard to do that. To find people that you can just step into a space with, breath out and go, "You take the wheel, and I'm on board."
No one's perfect and we all make mistakes, yes- I'm not asking for perfection, I'm asking for some sign that you are human. That this isn't just all about you.
And I am afraid of becoming like that. Because it would appear to me, that the only way to survive it is to play the exact same game. To count your hours and your time and your money, to not want to go that extra mile because when people realize you've got an extra mile to give, they want to take your next three. And then- I'm sorry, we're over-running again, the next four maybe, or five.


I am tired now. I woke up tired. I am so, so drained and it's like, I think I can breathe after this, but (and I've always known this) the end of Love Song is only the first domino getting pushed. For the next month or so, I don't know where I'll be very much. It's really quite scary.

Because we all fall down.






I promise to be a person, before anything else.

Walking tightropes

"Yes." My eyes searching his, trying to read him.

"No."

"Yes"

"No." He's starting to get angry, his eyes are just a little bit red. And me, I find myself pleading. Pleading. Why does it always feel like I'm doing that?

"Yes. Yes." I'm insistent, I'm begging now, I know it. And I'm asking, posing all these non-verbal questions to myself, to him.

"NO!" He yells at me, his eyes angry, his brow furrowed. He shakes his head at me, lowers his voice. It is firm.

"No." Firm and demanding.

I watch him. And I want to ask why. My breath, it's catching, and I'm all choked up and I'm so close to tears. "Why?" I want to say, "Why not?" But I don't. I lose myself to the space between us, to the anger that I don't understand that's seeping from his pores, to the desperation I find etched in my voice.

"Yes," I say, "Yes." Hating, detesting that desperate, desperate need I find clawing at my insides, reaching out to him.

"No," He says, his voice a harsh whisper. Except, I'm hearing him say "Please" now.

"No." And he's breaking then, he's breaking in front of me. He's breaking and then he breaks.

"Yes" I say, pulling him to me, all but physically, "Yes." I can be insistent too. I can work this for me, I can.

"No," he says again. He's so worn out now, tears filling his eyes and running in streams.

"No." It's barely above a whisper. I want to back away, I want to let him be. I want to tell him that I can't make him, I can't.

Except a voice, inches from my ear tells me I can't do that. Tells me to do otherwise. So.

"Yes," I say, "Yes."

But he's so broken and still holding on, holding on to something I can't see, fighting for something I know nothing about.

"No." And I take it in. I need to after all, take it in. Because I can't make him, I can't.

I can want to, so very much.

But I can't make him want too.

Breathe.

Scene.

Stepping into the Everyday

Okay so that's weird. The two-liner that was posted a few posts down, at 3:17am apparently, I didn't post that.

I mean.

I've written it and posted it before. But I don't know what it's doing popping up now, a few months late.

How bizarre.

My blog reblogs itself.

Bird's left.

I had some alone-time at the airport.

I'm glad I had some alone time. Even though she told me to come home, and I sorta misread that and missed out on coming home and cuddling up. Because alone time is good.

I think I might be weaning myself off this breakfast and grey's thing in the mornings. I appreciate it more when it's a few times a week versus every weekday morning.

I need to leave for work soon.

For some reason, this morning feels like stepping out of an escape and stepping back into the world. But it also feels like I'm stepping back into my world because it's easier to hide like that.

And it is.

The teacher in charge said it was a beautiful script.

And today will be the last chance I've got to do as many full runs as I can.

We're complete. They just need to be ready for Monday's performance.

Scripted

So, as with all devised pieces where you start off with a whole bunch of actors improvising,

you need to finally sit down, and write the script.

Some things stay, and some things go. And some things, will be left with spaces for actors to fill.

I've got just about 5 sessions left with the kids before they perform.

Way to go hey?

5 sessions to block the entire script, and have everything in place and sorted. Fingers crossed.

I actually didn't mean to stay up writing. I told Victor that I was going to watch a chick flick (27 dresses), dye my hair and go to bed.

I didn't finish watching that chick flick. I think I've watched it before. And clearly it didn't leave an impression on me. And I'd hate to waste my life. Twice over.

Now, I will go to bed and wake up to tomorrow.

My yummy, yummy tomorrow which I'll spend cuddled up in bed watching movies before our night out. I'm quite looking forward to Vanessa's play.

I will check out Scene transitions! I'm a bit stuck there right now:/

You are more than any award.

I swear to you. I swear.

You are so much more than any award.

In front of the CYC

There is always some kind of down-side to even the best of what you do.

With working in this line, there are always the pieces to pick up once production has wrapped.

Most times, you need to deal with your own post-production blues.

Some being worse than others.

There is life to catch up on, breaths to take,

and a stream of afternoons where you will find yourself at a standstill and going,

"why aren't I in the middle of a rehearsal?"

I'm not there yet.

I'm quite intent on finding time to just catch my breath, and stop running off at the drop of a hat, or the moment my blackberry vibrates.

Happy as I am to just, be able to stop,

there's always post-production blues.

It's already hit a couple of us, I'm wondering how bad it'll be for me.

Maybe it'll be easier this time round.

Can't quite tell yet.

I'll just focus on catching my breath first shall I?

there are people to thank-

not just the cast and crew of all the schools, but family, friends and significant others who've found themselves having to take a step back as the hurricane that is SYF unleashed itself on all of us.

It hasn't just been the Directors or the Actors or the Crew that's been in this, it's everyone around us as well. It's taken a toll on everyone and everything.

I think yoghurt and playground time has been put on hold long enough.

come on and take a bow

the hardest part about work

I work because I want to.

Because I love it.

Because, omg, this is me and this is my life and no one will believe me now but,

tired as I am,

I'm desperately holding on to this last minute dash.

Some people are looking forward to SYF being over, I'm wondering what will be left of me when it is.

My kids, this production. Me doing everything I know how to do. Me trying. Me watching them try.

I love my job. It's not even just a job, it's been my life for the longest time.

How do I just put it all down?

"I don't just love the drama teacher part of you, you know," she told me once, "I love you, just you."

Except sometimes it's difficult to see myself for anything beyond all of this. And for the most part of my life, I haven't minded that. I've loved that actually. How I have lived and breathed the performing arts.

But now, just sometimes, it scares me.

What happens after, when the house lights come on and the curtains draw closed?

Come What May

at every major traffic junction, or when my cab is speeding down empty roads and making sharp turns, or when there is a car coming at full speed round the corner, or when I jaywalk, I find myself whispering quietly

"Crash into me. Crash into me. Crash into me."

Because things and words and situations get fuzzy.

All the things that you've been working for, at every point and turn in your life,

they start feeling like it's not enough.

Like you're not doing enough.

Like you are not enough.

And let's face it-

at some point, the one thing you'd like to hold on to, will start to slip through your fingers.

And the person who you'd like most to stay,

will walk away.

It's easier to place a pain that you can see. That you can deliberately stab into, in order for it to hurt more- If only to remind yourself that you're still alive.

Come,

crash into me.

je crois

7 days

then 10

c'mon guys, last lap,

c'mon

Home

I spent all day looking forward to this evening-

Us finishing work and coming home for dinner.

And work was great. It was brilliant and productive (sure the last morning class could've gone better but you can't win them all hey?)

It was me.

It was me doing all I know, with all that I could. And I loved it.

But for the first time ever, there was something beyond that.

The rest of me, waiting right on the edge. Waiting to go home to you.

and so I did.

______________________________________________

I don't know how to feel about what I feel right now.

It's not wrong.

It's just new. And when things are new, you sort of want to look to someone who'll give you even just the slightest downward tilt of a chin- that might just pass for a nod.

Because more often than not,

it's infinitely easier to lean towards all the things you know with your person.

Especially when they know how to say your name just right. Especially when they need you like you've always needed them.

And even whilst you're looking over your shoulder at that 20-foot distance between you and the only Something New you've ever wanted with all of your being.

SYF

Starts in 9 days

Lighting for Serangoon is in two days, Lighting for Kuo Chuan in four days.

Fajar performs in 16 days, Serangoon in 18,

Kuo Chuan in 22.

Kuo Chuan also showcases at the end of this week.

Wow.

Goodnight World.

On concepts and conceptualizing

Bird points out that we're all from girls' schools and that we're fully aware of the nonsense we can and do pull.

The funny bit is when one isn't fully aware that another is fully aware.

_______________________________________

I had an idea-

Birdcages, two large ones. My main character(s) and a birdcage. Being able to set other people free but not themselves.

It's in my head, and I was always better at words.

Unfortunately, we're thinking my birdcages won't fit on stage because it needs to come through the side doors first. Plus it's hard to make because of the curve.

I need something to play with.

Someone give me something to play with.

Office Time

You do things, say things sometimes,
that make me want to just
stop. Put everything down,
stop.
Listen, while I find myself smiling like a fool.
Listen, and laugh,
put down the pen that I'm fidgeting with,
to pay you full attention.
Stop.
and fight an overwhelming urge to kiss you.


This is a balance.
Or it almost is. And I'm getting there. And I don't mind it.
Not one bit.

Grow up, C

No, but really,
I'm just being a baby.
I am.

I need to shut up and deal. I really do.

Disappearances and the joy it brings-

So I got back from Phuket with me blueberry face and cut up leg.
It was a gorgeous gorgeous getaway; Quaint, quiet, homely.
I suppose I could've done without crashing our scooter into a truck, and spending the next 14 hours secretly wondering if I'd wake up if I fall asleep and then hobbling about the rest of the trip looking sorry for myself while Erika got odd looks from non-locals. (It's the bruised eye man)
I'll talk about Phuket in an entirely seperate post. promise.

It's my first week back at work, and everytime I get back to work and such, I realize over and over again just how insanely in love I am with it.
Swear to God, I can't stop!
I've gotten my script and I've picked out the kids for SYF. I'm just brimming with excitement about embarking on the entire SYF journey with this bunch. There's just so much, SO MUCH that they can do, that I feel I might be able to do with them.
It's brilliant, and God, I am SO SO happy.
My Thursdays and Fridays look obscenely busy, and I suppose I could do with less running around but hey,
we can't always have it our way!

I've never understood people's grouse about being in the office though.
Honest to God, if I had the morning/afternoon off from a school, I wouldn't half mind going back to the office. I'm actually honestly a tiny bit peeved that I will have to wait til Wednesday to get in. Because Kirsten's running on her own brain juice and I could do with a charger.
Plus, considering what I've been doing on the go, it'd be nice to be able to sit down and my desk to do it. And not have to constantly look up to see which train station I'm at and whether or not I'm making good time and then promptly losing my place on the script.
diddums.

The last few days were quite lovely, I found.
In the most impossibly simple way.
I've never felt such contentment and comfortablity and cosiness. Never.
And at times when I felt a fraction of it, I've always felt like such a sodding sap because of it. I guess it was nice, knowing someone else kinda liked the simplicity of little things like that too.
I wouldn't have swapped out any of the littlest things, not for the world.
It was everything, really-
Having our own space, and doing our own things,, together and really not being joined at the hip
and the entire time,
just having a sort of ease to it all.

I could get used to it.
Although sometimes I think, thinking that makes me do a double take (I wouldn't actually say it scares me. just makes me sit up and look at myself oddly).
Because I don't do that- Get used to things like this.

Next week looks infinitely busier than the one that's just passed.
I'm itching to pick up my script and do my work.
But in the meantime, all that's left of the girls are waiting to go for ice-cream at Kovan.
(Yes V, this is what I'm doing while you're bbming me.)


This Saturday afternoon was brimming with contentment and lazy cat-stretches.
I like.



it's the littlest things;
Laundry, while I do work on the couch. Or making bubble & squeak while you wash the morning's work off you.

New York, New York

You know, I'm actually seriously considering studying in New York for a little while. Not live there, I don't think I could take living there (but I don't speak from experience though),
but maybe just study there for a bit.
And you know what?
Wednesday One-liners like these make me reeeeeeaaaaally want to even more!

Acting professor: Act as if you're fascinated by what they're saying, while thinking about something else. That's what boys learn to do when they get married.

--NYU

This is what dreams are made of

I've made plans, I'll be okay.
I just need to take that step of the edge, to know that I'll still be alive.


It makes me happy, so so happy(:

Going for Take One in 5,

and already screwing up.


I think what I feel, above all, is immense frustration and disappointment at myself. It was all arranged, all set, way before hand. And as solid, as sure as those answers seemed at the time, they turned out to well, not be as positive as I thought.
I ought to be understanding I suppose; that children are unpredictable, that parents cannot bend over backwards to accommodate their kids. But it's difficult. So unbelievably difficult.
Not because it makes me look bad, no.
But because I tried my damnest to make it convenient, simple, a no-brainer. I want to give, but then, no one seems very keen on taking. How does that work?


And right now, at 12am, I'm doing last minute preparations for tomorrow's program. It's not that preparing for ten is a huge deal, it's that it's disheartening knowing the likely possibility that only about half will be used. And what then?
I jumped in, all excited, everyone else got roped in and in the end, there's likely to only be five kids turning up.
Five kids. When there are what, five trainers?
Makes me want to cancel the entire thing. Run away so I won't feel this insane burning shame.


I wish i had more time. We always say that don't we.
But i ought to turn up and face the sad shaking of heads. I wish there was more I could do. I wish people would bother to pick up the freaking phone.
I wish I didn't feel so darn shitty about this, especially at the last minute.