A friend of mine, Elle, suggested a social experiment that I should try. All I have to do is go up to random people on the streets and tell them that they look gorgeous. The experiment, like many social experiment, is mainly pointless. You want to see people reaction, and that is pointless. So, this suggestion reminded me of a group of people I hate. I hate gorgeous people. Yes I hate them! I'm okay with beautiful people who are nonchalant and demure, but I hate gorgeous people who strut around, thinking they rule the world. Well, guess what! They don't, and I hope they die!

I don't see the point of strutting down orchard road showing off your Monolo boots or YSL t-shirt. I don't care. The world don't care. And you shouldn't care either. See, gorgeous people do not know the point of fashion. And unfortunately, too many gay people do not know the point of fashion too. When you are wearing that latest skinny fitted D&G jeans with your Prada snickers, you do not need to strut. You do not need to more self conscious. You do not need to cat walk down the street like a broom stick up your ass. Models catwalk down the runway, because its a show. If you are wearing that latest fashion threads, walk normally. Walk normal! Because when you walk normal, and act like you don't care, honey that's fashion. Walk like you don't care about that five hundred dollars snickers. Walk like you are not aware that you can fit into a skinny D&G. Walk like you are born to wear D&G, Prada and Gucci. Don't strut. Because if you strut, you might as well die!

Another thing I hate is gay men wearing t-shirts that 2 sizes too small! What's the point of that? You look GAY! We know you are gay, but you look too gay to be gay okay! And I hope you die too! If you are an XL wear an XL. If you want it a little tighter, wear L. That's okay. Fitted t-shirts are acceptable. But if you are an XL, don't wear S! Or XS. You look like a ridiculous stupid faggot that should die. I don't care if you spend 5 days a week in the gym, consuming only protein shakes. First of all, if you spend 5 days a week in the gym, consuming only protein shakes, you should die! A good body, only looks good if you are wearing clothes your size. If it feels too tight, most probably it is. So if you are an L no amount of exercise is going to change that. That's because you have broad shoulders. That's good! Wear an L. Trust me it would look good. Don't be wearing no XS now. Some people are big. Some are small. Some bitches are skinny and tall. Learn to love yourself!

We all hate stupid people. We hate stupid people who should not be talking. We hate the obvious stupidity of obviously stupid faggots. We hate them. And I hate them. I hate stupid labels that are obviously stupid. Like recently, my sister bought a new pair of shoes. And in that shoe box is a little packet with the label "Do not eat!" Now I know that is for children, but come on. In what way is it logical that when you buy a shoe, that it comes with something to eat with. When you buy a shoe, do you go thinking, hmmm.. I hope there is a chocolate snack. If a child that is old enough to read, eats that packet of Silica, that child should die. Cause then, there will be less stupid people in the world!

/ends weekly hateful rampage.

You know what. It has been difficult. I always try and try, give and give. There is no way. No way, I could update this blog and my other design blog, religiously like I used too. Even my design blog, I been having difficulties updating. And to think that having two writers, would make updating frequent. Apparently two lazy ass writers still isn't better than one. Oh well, life sucks. We live on.

So today I felt compeled enough to write. Because something yesterday my honeys. Oh something horrible happened yesterday. My beloved Nurul Maideen of Singapore Idol, had been voted out of the competetion. She may not be the best singer. But that bitch can sing. And she ain't so bad looking either. I would do her, if that hot sonofabitch future ex-husband of mine, Jonathan Leong is not around. I would not be so furious if Nurul Maideen is voted out towards the last leg of the competition. But shit. That bastard half-bred korean boy, Joakim Gomez had to still stay around. It's horrible. Isn't outing that divalicious singer, Mathilda enough, Singapore. Singapore please. Vote correctly my honeys. And goddamn that Jacintha bitch of a Judge. Stop praising Joakim already. What dusky quality of a voice? Are you deaf Jacintha? You are a record labeled, well respected Jazz Singer Jacintha. Stop being a pussy and just say what needs to be said. Goddamn!

Talking, about horrible things and divas, lets talk about Osama bin Laden. Yes that motherfucker who lives in a cave and happens to be the leader of the terrorist group Al-Qaeda. Well, apparently that bearded bastard, fancies our coke-head diva, Whitney Houstan. Oh honeys. When he looked at cracked-out Whitney Houstan, and said "That's what I want!", we can't help but feel sorry for him. You know what. The USA should just use Miss Houstan like a bait to draw out Osama. Just tie her up like that bitch in King Kong and draw him out from that cave.

Because its a collective blog of both Kristen and me.

It is also not a place of personal ramblings, but our opinions and commentary on Arts and Design.

You can learn from us.

You can also teach us a thing or two.

If you are a designer or artist, you should visit us, because we rock. (at least we believe so)

Coffee Banana

As much as I would like to deny it, I am broke. I will be broke anyway. It is inevitable. By the end of the month, I will most probably eat into my savings, funding my unnecessary splurges. I simply have no discipline to live within my means. My mum once said to me that if you are able to live within your means at the age of 20, you will be able to live within your means in your thirties, forties and fifties. I am the anti-thesis to that statement. $200 belts? Just get it. Its pretty. $159 shoes? That's not that expensive. $20 drinks? It better be nice. I just pay and pay and buy and buy. At the end of the day, I regret my purchases and promised never to do it again. Of course, promises get broken and the cycle repeats. So I decided to do it. I decided to get a savings plan, where part of monthly income gets taken away and placed into savings insurance plan, and I can't take it out (well I could, but that's part of the flexibility of the plan). Long term savings. Something we all need. Something I desperately need help with.

It is said that overspending is the downfall of the Malay community. (among many other things, but that's for another blog entry) For some strange reason, Malays in general spend too much on smoking, shopping and eating. We malays tend to overspend and its difficult to pinpoint out the reason. Malay youths must have better shoes, must have better clothes, must have better bags, better handphones and must smoke. Take my brother for example. He bugs my mum and works part time to fund his some what luxurious lifestyle and his smoking habit. Yes, my brother is a smoker and I am ashamed of it. I am not all innocent of course. I spent too much on clothing and its about time I stop. My brother threw an unreasonable tantrum during his birthday when my mum told him that she can't get him the handphone he wanted - some N series Nokia phone. Of course the next week, my mum surprised him with a V3X , a cheaper but still expensive and unnecessary expense. He has a perfectly fine phone and is just in school.

My mother despite all her wise advises about financial stability is still guilty of not following her own advices. She still funds my brother's luxury expenditure even though he is working part time. She practically gave up trying to make him stop smoking. My mum asked me to help my brother - you know, advice him, be a good big brother. But honestly, if a son refuses to listen to his own mother what makes you think he will listen to his overly dramatic and eccentric big brother. I'm afraid of my brother's future. He is on the slippery slope of the typical failure of a malay youth.

I believe the only way for my mum to help my brother is to stop funding him unnecessarily. My brother once chalked up to $800 in handphone bills in a month, taking to his girlfriend non-stop even while overseas. My mum scolded him and paid for the bills. She cut off the line and my brother went mobileless for only a month. The following month, my mum funded a new line and a new handphone for him. Guess what? He chalked up a bill of $500 in a month this time. My brother still has a line (a prepaid one this time) and still has a great new top-end handphone. My mother needs to stop. My brother needs a punch and a bloody nose to wake his bloody idea up. (Omg I just used a famous army line)

It is sad, but this scenario is repeated quite frequently throughout many malay families. Though it's difficult to understand why this is particularly pertinent in the malay community, it is obvious that this problem, is the root to many other problems of the malay community. I unfortunately offer no solution to the problem I just stated. However, I think its important that individually we start to be financially responsible. Financial problems is the root of many other problems and its time I start acting.

You know what's wrong with size 32 jeans? Nothing. It's just that I can't fit into a size 32 jeans! Even after much struggling, pulling and unnatural sucking in, size 32 simply won't fit anymore! I have a gigantic waist! LIKE BIG MAMA! The jeans fits up to the legs and tights then the last button simply refuse to button up! Size 32.. sheesh.. nobody wears a size 32. Though its my dream to fit into a size 32. Why? Cause I have no butt, and a size 34 makes me look like I am wearing baggy pants, even though the cutting is not suppose to be baggy. Its like girls with no breast and have to wear dresses, and the chest area doesn't quite fill up nicely. I need to get rid of these crazy love handles, or just push them down to my butt area.

I think I'm getting the flu. My nose all stuffed, and my throat is all dry. I have been drinking lots of water. It's a good preventive measure before I get a full blown flu/fever/sore-throat/feel-like-shit sickness. That and Vitamin C. I never like feeling sick. Silly. Who does?

Just when I though it was cool to be anti-catholic (blame Dan Brown), the most unlikely person in my group of friends have converted to "the one true religion" - according to Kristen and Maryann anyway. When enquired why he, once a free-thinker radical anti-religion buddhist zen hippy would convert to Catholicism, he answered with much self-convinced faith - "Because of God". Well that's silly I said, seeing as how someone as skeptical as he is, would require much more than that. "Well Islam doesn't allow me to drink." He added jokingly. Silly boy. Much more was said, along the lines of being expose and staying with a catholic friend, but non of it was convincing. Oh well, at least it was convincing to him. Be a good christian dude!

I want those really long scarves designed by Heidi Slimanne. Those scarves are like so long, you have to twirl them around your neck thrice before getting them to a reasonable hanging length. Of course those scarves are ridiculously expensive, and the only one I can afford are from Zara. And Zara's scarves are sadly short and normal. I need rich parents! Or a better paying job. Or both. Long scarf, t-shirt, torn fitted jeans, leather wristbands and canvas high cut shoes. Mod Fashion perfection!

Singapore IDOL was such a pain to watch! First of all, no cute people! Jonathan is the supposed hunk of the show. Are you people like blind? He looks like a 'kentang' reject from Project Superstar. The girls have not performed, but from the looks of it, not many hotties there too. Then there is Daniel Ong. He have this silly smile all the time. Spots a ridiculous beard that needs to be shaven with a 6 blade razor. And keeps calling Gurmit Singh, GURMS! And back to you Gurms! OH MY GOD! Stop it! Call him Gurmit already!

People I have been going to gym thrice a week, doing both cardio and weights, and I am still not looking any smaller! I need help!! Is it genes? Am I fated to live with this wide shoulders, flabby love handles forever? Or is there something I am not doing right? Drink more water? HELP!

Fahion design – unlike Graphic design – has a refreshing honesty about its sense of aesthetics. It understands, values and believes in its power and that aesthetics – beautiful things – makes people react. Not like graphic design, which burdens itself with the intellectual need of an underlying concept and ideas. Graphic design without a concept or idea is reduced to the state of mere decoration or ornaments. And that designers apparently don't do decorations. That is why, graphic designers get a little worked up when you call them graphic artists.

Graphic designers have been battling the idea that their jobs can be replaced by secretaries who knows how to use photoshop or that super intern who knows the secrets of the pen tool in illustrator ever since the computer come loaded with such software. An IT specialist in my unit, was messing around with photoshop to create graphics for their website. Quite neat work I must say. Of course if I was a 'Real' graphic designer, I should dismiss these supposedly 'conceptless' work as hacks. Mere decorations. But I couldn't. They were really not that bad. Maybe a few kernings problems here and there. Bad color choices somewhere. But they were not bad. The said IT specialist were actually looking for my approval and comments. I sort of became the resident graphic critic. But this time, I kept my mouth shut, smiled and nodded my head.

The start of the month of May turned out quite freshly weird for me. Firstly, my mum woke up thinking she is the hybrid of Naomi Campbell and Shakira. Yes, the combination of the two probably most perfect women in the world. My mum has been strutting around the house declaring to the world that she has the front of Shakira and the behind of Naomi. I laughed of course. I don't have the heart to ruin one moment of hotness. Maybe this is my mum desperate silent cry for help.

Secondly, another strange anomaly happened while I was in Town with my greatly eccentric friend Joseph. I have many eccentric friends, it just happens that Joseph is the most eccentric of them all. He wears pink sneakers with Fedora hats for crying out loud. Not that it's a bad thing. Joseph's eccentricities somehow overshadows my own and make me appear rather tame.

Anyway, while walking about trying to find our way to Far East Plaza - yes we were lost in Orchard Road - we were stopped by a young chap with a name card in his hand. I was expecting this guy to be someone asking for donation to build some grand home for homeless children with no hands. I was ready to just wave him away, but before I could say not interested, he asked - "Would you like to be a model?" .

"Who me?" my eyes widen. "Yes you. You look like you are in-"

Before he could complete his sentence, I burst out laughing. Joseph giggled like a typical eccentric.

"Are you serious?" I asked again, trying to control my laughter. "Yes." he said, handing me his name card.

Joseph's giggles are now full blown laughters. Trying to save myself and Joseph from further embarrassment, I took the card, gave the guy a fake number and walked away. Joseph continued laughing as I dragged him away.

Before Joseph could open his mouth to give me his smart ass opinion like I know he would, I told him to shush it! This is my moment of hotness! And no one is to ruin it. I spent the rest of the day (okay 30 mins - I got tired cat walking around looking for Far East Plaza), strutting around like a hot model that I am. XD!

This May is going to be great.

I contemplate of moving this uncared blog to wordpress - an arguably better blogging service which accepts Safari, my mac browser of choice, unlike spaces where using IE is encouraged. Sadly I am such a procrastinator that before I do anything major, like moving this blog to a better place, I would think and rethink about the consequences and difficulty I would face. I would have to redo the template. I would have to find a way to move my entries from here to the new place. You get the picture. The thought of it scared me enough to just settle with spaces, even though it looks dreadful on the world most beautiful browser, Safari.

I need to stop this habit of procrastinating. Its stopping me from doing many things. Usually I would chance upon something, be it a movie, a novel or just a little sketch hidden deep in the corners of my drawers, that would inspire enough to start a new painting. For example the painting that I am suppose to be working on is inspired by the National Geographic documentary, Gospel of Judas. It took me almost 3 days to just open Photoshop and start. Yes I procrastinate to the point of my creative demise. Right now, I am procrastinating instead of continuing with the painting. I am having some lighting issues that I am too lazy to solve. Lazy enough to stop painting. Oh great Enayla, bless me with your great skin shading and insane sense of lighting strength so that I could continue painting.

Today I had a job interview that went quite well. Thank god I did not procrastinate in preparing my portfolio. Though I did procrastinate in preparing my process sketches, so in the end I did not include them in my portfolio. The interviewer would probably spent more time looking through my portfolio if I include those sketches I believe. He flipped through my portfolio like flipping trough the ad pages of Vogue magazine. I think I charmed him with my cropped haircut and specs. :P He did say I look like a designer - You have the hair and the specs of a designer, he said. Haha. Which could either be a bad or good thing. We did talk a lot about my favorite designers Mr Michael Bierut and Miss Paula Scher, the difference between designers and artist, the importance of concept and many other arty designer stuff. To sum it up, the interview felt like a long enjoyable chat between two designers. I like that. To chat about design and art without feeling like a ridiculous arty elite.

After the interview, I decided to roam about Kino and incidentally picked up the book Struck by Lightning - a collection of political writings by four young politic journalist. As the title suggest, the dominant subject and theme of most of the writings is about Singapore long dominant ruling party, the PAP - whose logo is a circle with a blue lightning bolt. The book disappointed me though. I was expecting bold critiques and opinions of the PAP, instead what I got was a collection of writing ranging from how Singapore offered aid to the Tsunami victims overseas to how we do not know enough of our own neighbors. And then they sum it up by trying to draw a link to the political party with the lightning bolt logo. Maybe I was expecting something anti-government (oh you rebel!), but this book is neutral at best. Maybe the writers fear they will be struck by lightning themselves?

So Ministry of Sound (MOS) isn't really that big of a deal, even though it is really big. Biggest one in the world even. (and I ain't kidding) Something about that place just isn't friendly and warm enough. Maybe it's the overly crowded places. Maybe its the music. (which surprisingly is sucky). Then again, maybe it just ain't gay enough. After being in there for about an hour or so  - trying to dance like sluts to house music and experimenting with straws we decided to leave. We are not enjoying ourselves, thought there were moments on the dance floor.

That was like a few weeks ago. I always wanted to write an entry but I always get distracted by work. So yes MOS turned out disappointing, until a colleague of mine told me that there is a dedicated RnB room. Great. I remembered actually walking about that club 3 times, and all 3 times, we missed the RnB room. But still, I don't believe MOS could be as great as Why Not or Happy.

Talking about gay clubs, MOS is suppose to have one gay party. But sadly, our wonderfully we-don't-discriminate-against-gay-people government and police decided that the party is promoting an unhealthy gay lifestyle, so they shut it down. They closed it down 2 days before the party itself, after all the gay tourist have flown into Singapore especially for this party, only to be disappointed. All this reminds me of V for Vendetta.

V for vendetta is a stylistic political commentary. Pseudo-Intelligent and entertaining enough for me. Though their take on the post 9/11, post Iraq War was both amusing and scary, I think its important to note that Guy Fawkes is really not the historical revolutionist hero that he was portrayed as in the movie. To put it simply, he was a Catholic Extremist, much like a modern age, Muslim extremist. In our age, he would be called a catholic terrorist. He was a militant, fighting for his faith. A conservative. So it was quite ironic, that a conservative catholic militant was the icon for the rebels who are rebelling against a conservative religious government. Then again the movie isn't about which camp is evil or not, but about the wonderful ideal of Ideas and voice and all that nice utopian democratic jazz. Also, for those who can't stand all this political stuff, there is an element of romance and comedy to distract you guys.

So my mum decided to get me some t-shirts. Ever since army, I have been shopping for my own clothes, even for simple things like t-shirts. Mums being mums, will never understand their own children. It is like some evil cosmic law. She called me and told me she is getting me some t-shirt cause there is a sale at Isetan. Oh oh. Isetan sale is something I never liked. It means they are trying to clear their extremely old and really unsell-able stock. Isetan's sale is something I try to stay away from. But seeing as how my mum is insisting to get me some t-shirts, even after I tried to tactfully persuade her from doing so, I told her to get safe t-shirts. Meaning black or white, plain, not much prints something that is not overbearingly skater punk huge. If there are lots of words and random numbers on the t-shirt don't buy it. She returned home and showed me the t-shirts she got. They are huge, far from plain, with random numbers and words printed on it. They are everything I told her not to get. It's just so salah! "SALAH!" I practically screamed at her. "They are okay what. You can wear them with your jeans." She replied. "SALAH!" I screamed again. Well at this point, I realized I was behaving like a bitch of a son. So trying to salvage the situation, I told her, daddy needs more t-shirts then me anyway. Dad gladly took them, and happily too.

Walking home from camp is becoming such a sweaty affair. March's sun is unforgiving. The heat is unbearable. On top of that, I have to wear the thick canvas like army No. 4 uniform. It's just too hot damnit! If this goes on, I might suffer from heat exhaustion from just walking from camp to my flat.

All this heat got me thinking, why is the Army No. 4 uniform – the No. 4 is the common oh-so-glamourous camouflage uniform – made as it is right now. First of all, the material is rudely uncomfortable. It's thick, not breathable, totally inflexible and traps heat. And this is the uniform soldiers go to war wearing. We need something practical – hello – . Though I have to say, the No. 4 is well cut. Its flattering on most men. Makes the skinny look slim, the bulky looks built and the hunks look like gods.

The army is really a strange place. For some strange reason, people in the army find it hard to tell the truth to the question: "So free ah?" I am guilty of such myself. What is so wrong about saying yes, yes I am free and enjoying myself. What is so wrong about having finish your work early and taking an occasional break. What is so wrong about not working all the time? Maybe I will try it myself. Yes. I'm free and enjoying myself, sir.

While under the influence of the blistering heat, out in the field, I imagined up a design for a horizontal resumé. The silly heat. I sketched up a couple of design for the horizontal resumé and it's turning out pretty dandy. I do not know if I would be using it though. Seems too unconventional. But that again, just to be unconventional, maybe I will. I need to impress with my resumé even if the content is not that impressive.

I had a dream that had me soaking in sweat. I recalled it to be a short dream, however it felt really long. It was like a dream that was on repeat mode. It was dream that had me waking up feeling detached from the world. I dreamt that I was walking towards a very British train station. You know the kind in Harry Potter. So I was walking towards one of the platform and I sat down at one of the benches there. Suddenly one of the train station officers approached me and offered me tea. I said my thanks (I remembered I had a strange English accent) and had a sip of my tea.

Everything felt normal when a train suddenly flashed past me. The train was a blur but I can see through each window very clearly. In the window, I can see vivid images of my life. It was like a movie seeing through those windows. Pictures of my old secondary school and me practicing in Band. My poly life, and the fun I had then. Pictures of my first girlfriend and how then I thought she was the one girl for me. Pictures of me clubbing and dancing like a slut. There were many more but some are just too personal to mention here. It was 21 years of my life flashing right before my eyes, again and again. It felt like forever, before I woke up. Ironically even though my dream felt long, my life didn't feel like much for a 21 year old.

Apologizing seems like a charming little concept. You did something naughty, you apologized and suddenly you are forgiven. If you are not forgiven, then the person you are apologizing to, is suddenly the evil bad guy. You don't even have to be sorry for what you did, just recognize the fact that what you did doesn't go well with everyone. What I don't get is, why isn't this charming little social device used more often?

I love the annual budget speech. It's interesting, when the entire Singapore year is defined in this speech. And by the look of things, this year is all about helping the needy and recognizing our soldiers. Since I fit in both category, I am looking at some cash bonuses. I am not to sure about the needy part, (there are too many requirements and restrictions) but its confirm that I am getting at least a hundred bucks from the government in recognition of my services. And surprising there isn't even any raise in price in any public services (except for the universities' fees, but they are already corporatized, so its the Universities own doing). Coincidentally, this year is the election year.

I was walking home from camp, when i saw a whole row of pink construction lorries. Pink lorries? That's something. I snap a picture with my camera phone. The color turned out bad, the pink looked greyish orange and everything is muted. It's so bad, I immediately deleted the picture. It reminded me that I need to get a better camera phone, or maybe just a new digital camera.

Talking about shopping, I am surprised that I did not spend this much this month. There is still healthy sum of money left behind from my last pay cheque and I like it. All I bought this month are a pair black trousers and a black t-shirt. Maybe its time for a wardrobe reorganization.

Alex, who described my blog as intellectual garbage (what does that mean anyway :P) is insisting that I write a Brokeback Mountain review, after I kept bugging her to watch the movie. She wants to know what a sexually confused young designer would say about a gay cowboy movie. Well, I would write a review, but I do not think my review would do justice to a movie where words like breathtaking, haunting, moving and flawless would describe this movie perfectly. Just watch it Alex, and you review the movie. I would like to know how a straight young asian lady designer would describe a 'gay cowboy movie'. However calling brokeback mountain a gay cowboy movie is like calling the Godfather just a mafia movie. I would like to review the movie Munich though.

As for how to make man say oooh, Dip it low Pick it up slow Roll it all around.. Pick it up..

/End of intellectual garbage.

Upon the realization that I do not own a decent pair of black trousers and a pair white sneakers, I felt slightly disturbed with myself. Not that this is the point of this basically pointless entry. I woke up on a fine Saturday morning and casually stretched out, and suddenly discovered that my boxer shorts buttons were unbuttoned. Usually I wouldn't give this mundane detail that much thought, but this time, my you-know-what was hanging out like a silly curious dog. Not that it looked like a dog mind you. So after tucking that thing back in, and buttoning my shorts up, I felt like peeing. Mornings can be such a bitch indeed.

Other than mornings, others have made me notice that I can be a bitch sometimes too. I never rejoice being the bitch. I am surrounded by bitches, that I sometimes casually swear upon the graves of rock stars that I will never be one. I do not like making people feel any less than spectacular about themselves. But sometimes I can't just help it. To borrow a quote from a friend of mine, Life's a bitch. Be a bigger one. Or something like that.

You know, being an artist and designer you would expect me to like arty talk. Well I do, if it involves art history, artist profiles and art movement. Basically I like talking about something deeper than the art pieces. I like to discuss the history of Mona Lisa, but I do not like to entertain silly interpretations of the masterpiece. Once, an artist from deviatart messaged me on MSN. I do not know whether he was a true fan or some artist desperate for critiques, but he did gave me 3 +favs on 3 separate pieces. Anyway, he told me he loved my work and began to interpret many of my old works including my favorite sketch, "When immortals die." He went on and on about how the two figures were embracing death as lovers and somehow that their love will be immortalized. It was something abstract like that. Of course it was far off what I originally intended it to portray, and it was less beautiful that it's misinterpretation. I suppose misinterpretation could be welcomed, but sometimes, clouds just look like clouds.

Talking about deviantart, I am beginning to be depressed about my art. Specifically my illustrations. I was never strong in drawing, I am however blessed with the ability to cheat with colors and artistic trickery. Can't draw hands? It's okay. I will just draw leaves to cover up that part. Wrong perspective? That's okay, I will just brighten up this area, darken this part. There, everything looks right. Clouds? Just paint whimsical abstract shapes with subtle color difference and you would get clouds. But draw clouds. Hell, how do you do that? I am sick of this. I need to learn drawing. I have been sketching from life daily these days in hoping that I would improve. I need to take a drawing class.

I like to shamelessly plug my blog to my random online friends. It's fun and people think I have cool and smart because I write entries like this. However, one of my many random friends told me she didn't understand my blog. "Its confusing" she said. "There are like so many links and stuff. What is fresh banana signals and all those crap?" she asked. "What are you dense or something?" I replied. No. I was kidding on the last bit. I like my online persona to remain as non bitchy as possible. So for her benefit and the others, I would like to explain my blog.

All the entries that I write, including this one is placed in the center column. I try to be witty, smart, funny and informative in my entries. Most of the time they are just random bits. But that's okay. To your left (or right) is the coffee table blogs grid. This is 3 blogs that I recently discovered and currently reading. It changes from time to time. Fresh banana signals are articles, random websites and pages that I would like to share with you guys. To your right, profiles, archives and wanted books are self explanatory.

A quirky colleague and friend of mine managed to get through 1st round of Singapore Idol audition. Congratulations Chin!

While we all have to agree that the Devil have great taste, fashion spies all over are reporting that even the Pope is wearing Prada. It's causing quite a tiny uproar - not the same suicidal magnitude of the islam prophet cartoon protest - but it was still reported in respected fashion magazines and tabloids world wide. I personally have no problems with the Pope wearing Prada loafers. I say its great that the man who wears ridiculous cassocks lined with blinding gold sequins in the name of God, is finally realizing that fashion is not all that evil.

So if the man who probably puts fashion at the bottom of his to-do list can appreciate good Prada loafers and fashion in general (fashion spies last reported that the Pope is donning Gucci shades too), I say, so can you. Here I am putting up a list of people, names, brands and information so that you too, can begin to appreciate fashion. Not all of us are as rich, or have rich friends like the Pope, but knowing about fashion doesn't hurt.

5 fashion names and facts about them you MUST know

1)Hedi Slimane Previously the creative director of Yves Saint Laurent, he was ousted and now is the creative director and genius behind Dior Homme. Under his leadership, Dior Homme was transformed from a stuffy victorian boxy look, to a slim-fit, indie rock and roll style, while sill maintaining Dior's tailor-ship and sensibilities. His last collection, the 2006 fall/winter collection however has hints of Yves Saint Laurent parisan influences. Since 2005, rumors has it that he is going back to YSL, perhaps this is the confirmation? He was born in 1968 in Paris.

2) Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana Well this are really two people, but they cannot be separated if they are to make any sense in the fashion world. While, they announced the end of their gay relationship, their company fortunately are still to remain the same, and they are still going to design together. They started the infamous fashion line, Dolce and Gabbana. Dolce and Gabbana has sprung off another entity, the supposedly cheaper and more mass market D&G. The two are famous for popularizing the debatably sexy butt-crack low-riding jeans for men. Recently they announced another questionable innovation in fashion for men, jeans that ride so low, that the jeans starts only at the crotch. Pubic hair are encouraged to be exposed.

3) John Galliano Arguably the most influential and innovative menswear designer ever. John Galliano is the Creative Director of his own fashion line, John Galliano and Cristian Dior (not to be confused with Dior Homme, a seperate menswear only entity). While his work at Cristian Dior are questionable, - his recent fall/winter collection are criticized as forgettable- his work at his own label, however are often outstanding. Never confuse his catwalk shows with clothes that are going to be in his stores. His catwalk shows always depict clothes that are seen as unwearable and extreme. Always exaggerating the message that he wants to put across, he doesn't want anyone watching the show to miss that message. Often times, when the clothes are manufactured for the stores, they turn out tame and wearable, but still with that John Galliona extreme edge to it. His underwear collection are becoming a staple in the fashion world. Its almost as prevalent as Calkin Klein.

4) Miucia Prada Unlike many other modern heiresses, the heiress to the Prada fortune is not a common dumb blond slut. She is the creative director and goddess for Prada and the new fashion label, Miumiu. Even though she is responsible for transforming Prada from a dying luxury leather goods business to Milan's haute couture, it is not her that people usually associate Prada with. Tom Ford (rightfully?) stole that from her. While not many common folks can associate with or even recognize Tom Ford's works in Prada, Miucia's works are copied and counterfeited all over. Miucia designed the infamous black Prada handbag.

5) Tom Ford Studying fashion without knowingTom Ford is like studying IT without knowing Bill Gates. Tom Ford, the openly gay american designer is considered to be one of the most influential and famous designer ever. He is responsible for the genius and works for three fashion powerhouses, Gucci, Yves Saint Laurent and Prada. He is widely known as the saviour of the then almost bankrupt Gucci - he transformed Gucci from bankrupt slum to fashion powerhouse worth 4.3 billions. He quits fashion in 2004 and now is interested in making films.

What is haute couture? Haute couture (French for 'high sewing' or 'high dressmaking') is a common term for custom-fitted clothing as produced primarily in Paris but also in other fashion capitals such as New York, London, and Milan. Haute couture is not only made-to-order for a specific customer, it is usually made from high-quality, expensive fabric and sewn with extreme attention to detail and finish, often using time-consuming hand-executed techniques. Sometimes the term is used only to refer to French fashion; at other times it refers to any unique stylish design made to order for wealthy and high-status clients.

While knowing about fashion doesn't necessarily makes your stylish, I believe knowing fashion makes you a better person, culturally. Through fashion we can examine culture's notion of beauty and style. After all, fashion is the expression culture.

We were both in our wedding clothes. I was in my charcoal colored suit and a little cute bow tie. I was strangely without my pants and only in my boxers. The tanned girl in front of me was still completely dressed. Her silk chiffon frilly dress, with long satin gloves and a head band decorated with small little roses. I approached her as she approached me , and we kissed. It was a passionate that wasn't like a normal french kiss, where you feel you should hold back, just to be polite. Non of us were holding back. She was feeling me, as I felt the fullness of her body. As we finished the kiss - gasping for air - we crashed on the bed, only to continue kissing. Eventually, I was on top of her, my back slightly arched, still passionately kissing her delicious moist lips. She decided to roll me on my back but I fell off the bed, and it was morning.

I had a silly wedding dream, and no, there was no sex. It was strange of course. I am a 21 year old bachelor, (almost turning 22) who never really had a serious relationship -ever- in his life (okay maybe 1, but I never considered marriage with her), and is suddenly dreaming about the wedding night. I even considered that I might never ever get married, and would be a swinging bachelor till the day I die. It was a possibility that I am prepared to accept, even to the great dismay of my loving parents. My mum once said that, if I am not in any serious relationship - serious to her, means engagement, with a promise of marriage - by the time I am 25, she would be matchmaking me. Of course it would be quite hard work for her. I'm not exactly the guy with the je ne sais quoi that would make girls weak in their knees. I mumble, has a fetish for typography and giggle at the mention of ,umm, anything. Not really that impressive. To add salt to the already festering wound, many find my sexual orientation questionable. Not that's entirely their fault of course.

I am still trying. I go on dates (well not that many, but its the effort that counts eh) and try to be as sociable as possible. Of course my social life is not exactly helping. I have too many gay friends and the girl friends that I have all think I'm gay. The straight guy friends I have, well, I think they are gay too. Maybe I should try internet dating but signing onto something just for the sake of finding a partner seems a little too desperate.

Maybe it's because I do not want it. I don't know. It's a bit too scary to admit that you at a tender prime age of 21 no longer want or desire the possibility of a romantic life. I do not want to be a jaded loveless human being, but at the same time I do find the whole dating/wooing process to be a bother. It's just too scary. That's probably it. Relationships scare me. Maybe its just the responsibility of a relationship. Once again, I am not too sure myself.

Valentines day is coming, and I would most probably be spending it either alone or with a few of my truly best friends. We would wonder the city, admiring the couples around (even if we never were to admit it ourselves) and then ponder when it would be our turn to be admired in the city of love.

French philosopher Voltaire, once said that it is one of the superstitions of the human mind to have imagined that virginity could be a virtue. I say virginity is an unnecessary baggage. What is virginity anyway? Virginity is a concept or superstition created by ancient men to allow them to put a certain value on women. Virgin girls are more highly valued than girls who are more experienced. For some strange reason, that same perspective doesn't apply to men. In fact, the reverse is sometimes true. Some groups see men who are no longer virgins as 'THE MAN!!!".

I lost mine, due to a series of unfortunate and some rather fortunate events. But I'm not here to talk about me. We are here to discuss, why in these modern times, when women can do as well, and most of the time more than what men could do, still value virginity so much. Why do dogs get more action than most of us? I turned to science for the answer. Scientist described women as more protective, because they need to ensure that the guys they sleep with, will stay around to take care of the baby. Men are more promiscuous because they want their seeds to be spread all over. They want junior to be everywhere. That could be the answer right? Natural selection and evolution has wired us this way, hence we act the way we act. Of course if we take the same reasoning, we could justify nepotism. Evolutionary psychologist discovered that the human brains are wired to favor relatives and siblings. Still, nepotism is shun and considered a counter to virtuous ethics. We have the ability to not prescribe what is wired in our nature.

Before this blog post is the taken the wrong way, remember that I am neither for or against virginity (a little bit more against than for if you must know). I am however amazed at how virginity is still considered a virtue and something worth saving, at not just our culture and country, but universally. Even some among those that already are no longer virgins, say that if they could turn back the clock, they would save it. This applies, according to my own very unscientific research and polls, to both heterosexuals and homosexuals. Though right now in modern times, there are various levels of virginity to consider and this is something too graphic for me to write about. What is amazing is the archaic concept of virginity still exists.

The modern man have discarded many barbaric traditions and ancient values. We no longer force our women to be barefoot and spent their entire lives in the kitchen. Men are no longer considered the superior gender these days, except in certain religious roles, and even there it is slowly dying. Women can flirt and make the first move. Men can shop and own more shoes than women, and still be considered straight. Yet, virginity still exist. Perhaps no longer as important as the old days, but still existing and has a value. Most of my male friends have no qualms engaging a relationship with a girl who is no longer a virgin, but if she is a virgin, it's a great bonus.

Perhaps I should just concede to the fact virginity is probably a virtue like honesty and integrity. But virtues like honesty has a purpose. If lying is alright, then civilization will fall, mankind will be destroyed and all that shit. What I'm trying to say here is that virtues are virtues because they serve a purpose. Finding the purpose of virginity is a little hard. Whatever the purpose, it's probably why dogs get more action than us.

I always secretly hate those people who have Photoshop (or illustrator or inDesign) and used those programs to design their own logos, business cards and newsletter. Perhaps deep inside, I was secretly hoping that they would hire me, or at least some other designer. It was the fear that the design-it-yourself community would make designers irrelevant.

Design has always been to me, a way to relate to the world around me. My fascination with the design process and the idea of a design ‘ideal’ has reflected in my personality, my perspective and even my life. This has affected in how I view people who do-it-yourself. I discussed this with a good designer friend of mine, and he told me outright, “Aren’t you guilty of such things yourself?” I was speechless.

Also it got me thinking. Why do we fear people, the non-designers, who design on their own? There are books out there that teach, or at least show, design. Tools are widely available. This blog is a product of a design-it-yourself. Design is a way to relate to the world. Design is not only about making money. It can be, but it should be accessible to the general public. It shouldn’t be a foreign skill available only to the elite few, many designers (I WAS sadly one of them) consider themselves to be.

A designer’s credibility shouldn't come from design's elite status, but rather from its universal relevance to daily life. Not everyone is a design “professional,” a person dedicated to solving complex problems and carrying out large, capital-intensive projects. But everyone can design elements of their own life, from their personal business cards or letterheads to their own flyers and wedding invitations.

In the mid-1980s, Apple launched a television advertisement that showed an image of hands cutting type and pasting it on a board. This demonstration was probably the first time “graphic design” was demonstrated to the public on television. Then, a quick cut to a state-of-the-art Macintosh screen showed a layout (probably for a newsletter) in progress. The voiceover went something like, “This is a graphic designer ... And now you don't need one anymore.”

It’s the year 2006, and graphic designers are indeed a hardy lot.

I cringed at my painting just now. I opened up painter, scanned in my sketches, did some rough but serious dabbing and cringed. I seriously cringed. Like when I learnt how to perform urinary catheterization - the medical procedure of jamming down a long slim tube through the top penis opening to draw urine out from the bladder. It's that cringe worthy. Something is just wrong with the color choices. The green seemed too yellow, the blue is really a pale violet and the pale ivory skin looks like diluted puke yellow. I immediately closed painter and deleted my sketch. An act I would later regret, since scanning is a pain.

So, I went from trying to paint, to my redesigning project. I am in the process of updating my design portfolio, so I am redesigning a ton of my old stuff, so they look more updated and hopefully would get me a job that got to do with graphic design after I ORD. One very interesting redesign project, is the redesigning of the old debates competition poster. The old posters though still looking quaintly pretty, lack the intellectual depth that is typically associated with debating. I came up with a pretty neat concept of using ongoing debates and disagreements that existed in each school. So for the, school of life sciences, I might use Intelligent Design Vs Natural Selection as the basis for the poster design. Every school will have different 'debates', but the underpinning concept would be the same.

I have been trying to fix that perfect mood music playlist for painting. I used to listen games, anime and Loreena Mckennit, but they are not working anymore. My party playlist - music includes r'n'b to remixed techno - works surprisingly well for designing. I currently am in love with music from fashion shows and I think they would works wonder for my painting. The music from milano fashion collection cd cost $50. Bleh. Must wait for next pay. I hate being paid peanuts.

My parents went to Johor on the Sunday, and brought back their version of Sunday Times. Interestingly, their publication is way better than our Singaporean version. Yes Malaysian Sunday Times is better than ours. They have a section called opinions where journalist openly attacked government policies. Well, not exactly attacked, but still openly and daringly criticizing government policy is not something our journalist - whom sadly prefers to review the next big restaurant and speculate when the next general election, cause, gee we all really are anxious who the winners are going to be. One article even criticized, constructively of course, the Malaysian Vision, of Islam Hadhari. Wow! Islam Hadhari is, Malaysia's official vision of moderate islamization and religion is something Singaporeans have been raised never to talk about. Yet, in a Muslim country, Malaysia, reporters are openly discussing a religion that wholes so much prominence.

Memoirs of a geisha thought me that saving your virginity could be profitable business.

I seem to always get art / design books for christmas. It's either that I give out the arty vibes or that my stuff sucks so bad and all my friends are hinting for me to just stop, or at least get better. Oh well, I'm not complaining. I love collecting art books.

One of my army mates gave me a 'drawing how to' book. The natural way to draw by Nicolaides. I was intrigued. The back cover reads :- "There is only one right way to draw and that is a perfectly natural way." This book doesn't attempt to teach you to draw humans, or techniques, proportions, perception or those silly important arty stuff. This book however is going to teach you how to draw. Yes, just simply draw. And after years of reading those human proportions books, internet tutorial and copying Enayla, I realize that I do not know how to actually just draw. I do not know how to pick up a pencil and just draw a tree. Or draw that cup. Or draw that wonderful fantasy scene in your head.

The first few exercise in the book really makes you feel stupid. It forces you to draw without any preconceived notion about perspective or what you know about proportions. It forces you to draw what you see and feel. You just stop thinking and draw. And you must spend 15 hours just to complete the first chapter's exercise. Scary eh, But it's fun. As you continue with the contour and gestures exercises, you will soon realize that you can draw what you see much better. Most of my drawings still sucks, but I am just 4 hours through it.

Alright, time to pop in that Mandy Moore cd (I love Mandy Moore!!), get that mug of milo and just sit back and draw! Yes Wan draws now!