White keys, yellow walls

My white keys don't serve the stories I want to tell. They look too pristine; you kind of want to leave them alone, lest they should accumulate dust and other pollutants. There are many things I love about Apple, but their white packaging is not one of them... back when I had a Dell the keys spoke of mystery. If black is the saturation of colour, all the colours combined, then black was always already rich in context. On the keys of a piano, black marks the sharps and flats, and typing is a bit like playing the piano, with your fingers flying all over the keyboard, rising and falling in gentle or sharp rhythms depending on your mood. Only there are no blacks; the all-white ensemble oppresses me. It's too innocent, too pure, somewhat sterile, close to clinical.

I never did like leaving walls white; I look forward to painting my new room yellow. A rich, creamy yellow would be ideal, however the other occupants of the household insist that I use a lighter shade. Anything to make the room a bit warmer. I'll aim for a lickable shade.

Raindrop-studded evening

My jumper soaked
We jumped a bit
To escape the onslaught
Of heavy rain
We trumpeted
Our arrival to no-one
Seeking solace
In the warm glow
Of the cafe
Pink umbrella
Macho fella
It all swirls together
At this time of nite

(We are both friendly and polite
So it is no wonder
We make good company for each other)

Life's a breeze: Sun Moon Lake

Four hours away from the hectic pace of Taipei, I found myself looking out from the pier of Ita Thao village, one of the smaller communities clustered around Sun Moon Lake, my big city troubles being swept away by the breeze as the sunset turned the misty atmosphere a lucrative shade of mauve.

I probably wouldn't have made it to SML if not for a last-minute search for free events in Taiwan, and although I missed the concert I had come to see, I came away feeling that the magical interaction of land, water and air (that glorious mist that gave the mountains added dimension and definition) was one of the highlights of my trip.

Sometimes I think about buying a small property in Ita Thao, so I can escape to this special Taiwanese holiday spot whenever I'm feeling the need to diversify my understanding of the colours blue and green...

Thirty Tomorrow

I spent much of my twenty-ninth year extremely stressed and unhappy, and while my trip to Taiwan cheered me up and provided me with many feel-good moments, I'm thoroughly pleased to kiss this year of my life goodbye. Bring on 30, which I'm not keeping track of how symbolic it's supposed to be. In Japan, 20 is the 'coming of age' year, not 18 or 21, so I'm not going to concern myself with supposed milestones, unless others thrust them upon me in a hard-to-resist, cheery manner.

In honour of my last few hours of being 29, I've assembled a bunch of photos from my last trip for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy. (And remember to credit me for the photography if you're going to steal any of them. :o) )

All of these photos are taken in Taiwan, mostly in Taipei. I may have a special 'Sun Moon Lake' edition sometime soon. Keep an eye out! :o)

Possibilities for the future

I could focus away from the heaviest of feminist issues, and write about initiatives such as this instead. Once again, Sweden pioneers the field of gender equality by creating a new consciousness about the representations of women on film. It's a repetitive experience, seeing the female presence be locked into romantic fodder, eye-candy or other two dimensional characters. I have given up on mainstream films (including Hollywood) due to the abundance of such stereotypical casting choices.
While we're at it, I'd like to see more women out of high heels and masks of make-up. I'd prefer to gawk at the display of an impressive headspace more than a cleavage.

Now, about the open letter in the last post... I am actually against keeping the so-called mentally ill locked up in a small space together, because when you have a bunch of highly stressed people going through some of the worst time of their lives, you're opening the door to bad things happening. People get angry at each other and start yelling, rattling the other patients even further. It all contributes to an atmosphere of terrible tension. Even on the best days, a mental institution is, far from a healing place, a highly stressful one to be in. That said, I know that I'm not going to overthrow the system with one letter, so I'm strategically trying to make a difference by nudging it along in the right direction. I have no idea if my letter will have any impact, but I hope it brings attention to the issue of accessing a psychologist and how big a difference it can make to the consumers.

On yet another feminist note, I have recently discovered LeanIn.org, an initiative by Sheryl Sandberg, who some of you may know as the COO of Facebook. Due to the wide scope of the community, it offers a wealth of resources for anyone interested in feminism.

BIU

Bold, Italics, Underline. Pick your emphasis, select your variation. The exception to the rule that proves the rule, right? You will use us sparingly. Uniformity becomes you. Oh, go forth and prosper.

<"I live for the applause, applause, applause">

I try so much to want to be published. I try to distance myself from the cocoon of Blogger, pretend it's not the ideal arrangement; I've already had my poetry published, and I couldn't care less if I published any prose. I'm happy to write what I truly want to, not what someone else expects for me. I'm happy to conform to my own, very radical leanings. The appeal of fame? It's slim pickings. <"Way that you shout and scream at me.">

My American boyfriend always wanted to reach a lot of people. I was always radiant over my sense of obscurity. There's a freedom in being on the extreme margins that gives me a high. To be honest, I don't even put my most radical ideas on Blogger. It would be too risky. I want to, it's tempting, but I'll refrain for now.

A few days ago I submitted a poem for publication to Cordite, an Australian poetry journal, and while it would be very nice for them to publish it, a part of me is just as invested in remaining as obscure as ever. But, to be honest, I feel like, at the age I'm about to turn, I need to start taking being published more seriously. A couple of token achievements to point at come in handy. I don't wish to sully my obscurity though. I want to be thoroughly ignored by the mainstream.

Words to play with

Words like pre-existing pearl drops
Containing reality-formation, full of light
Fill them up with bursts of colour
Make them sparkle in the night

Meanwhile I reinvent each word as I go
My language knows not the grittiness of a finite bite
They are not red balloons waiting to be blown up
I have a new word for a name; it means night

I am the stars, I am the night
The diamond-studded shawl of velvet hours
I am the glorious outbreak of rainbow lights
I fight for the dignity that should be ours