This Chinese New Year

Its the eve of the eve.

Time fled from me and I didn't even bid goodbye to 2011 properly. And in a couple of days, the Lunar New Year would be upon us. When the season's tackiness is personified in every shade of red, orange and gold.

When the soft sliding of well worn  mah jong tiles accompany the blaring of the latest New Year remix (which sounds the same every year) and visitations by flirtatious lions with fluttering eyes and wagging tails.    

Despite all my disdain for a culture which has lived up to its stereotype, I am still its heir and as I grow older, embracing my birth right becomes more poignant.

I crave for kopi o today. Black and sweet as sin. And I enjoy it best every year, pour our with a ladle through a tapis into a beer stein to be enjoyed sitting on the floor, in the eye of a whirling chaos comprising of screaming children, gambling adults and an ambling pet dog.    

And like that kopi o, the chaos becomes tradition, to be taken for granted and willed to last forever until too soon it becomes a memory, which in time, would be come distant and romanticised.

This would be my first year without the familiar din. Its been about 10 months since the passing of my grandmother, the family matriarch and the centre than held everyone together. And as things fall apart, without the centre to hold, swirling satellites drift to find new orbits, keeping some of the old and creating new traditions of their own.

It is too soon for me to say whether I miss the rambunctiousness.  But I do miss her. And I fully appreciate the significance of tradition as a way of reaching across time and space to honour, remember and perhaps find a little comfort. 
 

To the boy who gave me Neruda

It's close to six years since we last spoke. He was amused that I was as arrogant as he was and I could hold my own at Trivia. Yet despite that, or rather in spite of that, he gave me the gift of Neruda and I have been love struck ever since. Very few poets can articulate the song and sorrow of your own heart.

And yet to the boy who gave me Neruda, I am indebted to you. I only wish I knew your name..

Don't Mess with Foo Fighters

Ok, to prove a point:
This is Dave Grohl:

This is Ramli Sarip:

And no Dave DOES NOT look like Ramli Sarip!
I never thot during Nirvana days that I would ever call Dave even borderline hot. Oh, but he is all grown up.  Bless!

We need to talk more. 

Love

Because of you, in gardens of blossoming
Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer
Remember your hands; how did your lips
Feel on mine?

Because of you, I love the white statues
Drowsing in the parks, the white statues that
Have neither voice nor sight.

I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice;
I have forgotten your eyes.

Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to
My vague memory of you. I live with pain
That is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
Make to me an irreperable harm.

Your caresses enfold me, like climbing
Vines on melancholy walls.

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to
Glimpse you in every window.

Because of you, the heady perfumes of
Summer pain me; because of you, I again
Seek out the signs that precipitate desires:
Shooting stars, falling objects.


- Neruda

And now, getting inked myself

Well I have been mulling over the below for more than a year now. 

I keep falling in love with this lotus tattoo. Pretty old skool yet, my only concern is that for it to blossom, it needs to be a certain size. And I don't want a big one. 

Yet I am getting alot of flak for wanting one. WTF must it be called a tramp stamp just because its on a girl.  

Despite it being such common theme, be it with or without religious connotations,  I have always liked its oft quoted symbolism. Still  it remains quietly beautiful. 

Chill for a while

Oldie but oh so goodie.

I ink therefore I am

In the era of erganomic keyboards, I suppose that using a fountain pen is on the quaint side. And let me qualify that when I say using a fountain pen, its for actual daily writing as oppose to pocket displays or for signing ceremonies. 

Besides Chris,  I am the only other person I know who still has use for ink bottles and blotting paper. It is a joy you know - inking paper, each stroke imbued with distinctness as pressure and angles form words and pictures. 

Penmenship is not for posers. Nor it it bourgeoisie.  Granted that it is nostalgic and romantic. A throw back to a time when pride was to be had in having a good hand and better care was accorded to word crafting, and backspace referred to a store room than a keyboard function.  And besides, love letters are best written with a wet pen than a ballpoint any day.

My everyday cherry red Lamy Safari fountain pen has gotten quite a few second glances. Relatively inexpensive at below RM100, it is minimalist and writes like a dream.  I think that this makes a very good introduction for fountain pen newbies.  Better than getting the much cheaper Pilot beginner's pen which bleeds all over the place, turning frustrated students off what could be a truly wonderful lifelong love affair.     

Anyway back to the Lamy Safari, it has a stainless steel nib without any fancywork.  It is light having an angular plastic body that helps with the grip and is not at all unpleasant. I use the fine nib and am very satisfied with the ink flow.   

Compared to my Lamy 2000, the Safari gives much more satisfaction. Despite the 2000 being of a different class all together being platinum coated and hand polished with a 14c gold nib, my Extra Fine is heart-breakingly scratchy. I love the  Bauhaus industrial design design, yet I expected much better.  I got mine at the Pen Gallery at the Weld, and even after sending it back after they gave me a less than satisfying nib the first time, I can't say that I am totally satisfied. 

Will be going to Singapore to get the opinion of a nibmiester. Yes, that is the name and yes again, that is an actual profession.

In Malaysia, The Pen Gallery in the heart of Kuala Lumpur does stock a good range from Namiki to Montegrappa. Irritating thing is that the store does not open during weekends. 

However for the Lamy, being fairly common, they can be bought at selected departmental stores which do offer discounts during sales. I got my Safari at Parkson with a 30% off and its a perfect pen. Only downside is that they may have a smaller range of nibs. 

       

Yes, the geek is strong in this one. 

916 - MARU!

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