Eddy the peacock;

Just had to share one of my absolute favourites! A piece from the musical piece by Sandy Wilson, which was the first vintage musical to spark my inspiration and love for the ‘vintage vignettes’. Please ignore the irrelevant video couple…I have no idea who they are but this is the only version I managed to find of this fabulous vintage piece. E and I also ever talked about it, and if we ever had an opportunity to direct a piece on stage again (he would do dance choreography, and I would do stage directing as always!) I miss our old days of theatre, and never had the big voice of my mother to do something like this, but I think there was something alive about ‘The Boyfriend’ and Sur la Plage which I absolutely adore…Wiki describes it as a ‘comic pastiche’ of 1920s elements and I almost had the impression once that it was Rodgers & Hammerstein. Can you just see it on stage!

When I saw the above tango piece I was incredibly impressed… one of the best pieces I’ve seen executed on the show, by Mirian Iarici and Leo. I don’t know what you all think, but I have always felt this is the way tango ought to be done, and it was truly bewitching and extremely vile! Haha!

Returning home, I’ve really missed my music for the past few days.  Immediately upon returning, had to talk to ST, missed ST terribly pass few days who was constantly passing through my mind, and also exuberant singing with Beansprouts! He shared about his recent trip to Munich past few days, the castle on the lake, and sushi in Germany…and his fondness for the castles.  I then ran Giselle the ballet on repeat for hours and fell asleep to the last strands of the second Act. My little kitten loves Giselle too, even when I hum it with imperfection to the music! But I think she likes opera much more because she makes so many noises. (rrr….interprete)

Every now and then I get a little tremble of loneliness inside…and wonder if I will be remembered! I sometimes feel like the remnants of a fallen tree which once existed. I feel like saying some words, like how much I miss ST’s kindness, and the abandon of walking slowly in a park and seeing the secret names of roses, and the wonder of being absolutely alone. My mother often interrogates me about so many things…checks my receipts…empties my bag of contents, secretly digs into history files of my computer…I detest it absolutely with fierce intensity, as as Beansprouts knows, the one thing I dislike the most is the lies and probing questions into the things I hold secret in my life.  Once, a friend read my personal letters, and after that I never spoke to her again, and blocked her out of my life instinctively, being a person I could not innately trust (perhaps a Spinach INTJ trait?) And so having my personal letters and postcards read by my mother on a daily basis without my permission is a scarring affair.

Yet in many ways I often feel helpless in all these…in Singapore, not only with my mother, I feel that the whole atmosphere often probes searching questions within me constantly, I feel restless and the need to prove myself and do certain things constantly, I feel a static clockwork where my mind is thinking so much and there is a constant displeasure when I do not achieve something I intended. Singapore has this effect on me. My comfort is when I finish a piece of work wonderfully, or seeing an article I’ve written being letterset- concerns which had been faraway from me in London.

I feel as though I am not entitled to my quiet moments any more, which is a horrible, sudden dreadful feeling which overcomes me. I am almost destined to work, to pursue, to compete – like Beansprouts in London, who becomes law-ified with case files! The issues I think about become the equity market and market manipulation and accountancy, and slowly I will not be going up to the top of the magic tree anymore. Even my favourite violin that I adore starts to become an artificial solace.

But I must not be so depressed! There is always something waiting, and Beansprouts in the distance telling me what he did for love.