I Dream of Wild Horses

I had a dream last night that I made a video for a relative’s birthday. It was being screened in a large auditorium where my mum’s side of the family was gathered. I was so embarrassed of the video because it was tacky and irrelevant that I ran out of the hall to hide. Outside, my late grandfather now eleven years passed, was playing an acoustic guitar by a gutter. My cousin, Shanaz, and I sat beside him and the three of us sang ‘Wild Horses’ together. I harmonised but wasn’t very good. I think we sang the whole song then I laid on the grates of the gutter and my grandfather laid on top of me till I pushed him off. He was so heavy. I don’t remember if he said anything to me.

The photograph above is of the family plot in Keningau. I’m one of those people who would rather take photos on film rather than digitally most times. I didn’t do too well with this roll of film but of the six that came out, they were all taken at the cemetary. It wasn’t eerie.

To me, ‘Wild Horses’ will always be about death. Some people think of it as a break up song but I think the song has to be about death. It’s about a separation whilst talking about a reconciliation that will happen in a distant future (let’s do some living, after we die). When Mick Jagger sings “childhood living is easy to do” it resonates that we are young whenever we are alive. ‘Old’ is only age by comparison. ‘Old’ is when you can’t do anything for yourself and people want you to retire too. It’s when your body’s got no more life to live and your childhood programming is so outdated you couldn’t cope in this era if you tried.

I think ‘Wild Horses’ by the Rolling Stones and ‘Something in the Way’ by Nirvana would be my death songs. ‘Something in the Way’ because Cobain vividly depicts this permanent space where things are upside down or made unimportant. I think that’s what death would be like, the opposite of life. In life, things are always the right way up and everything is very very important. Also in a lot of ways, doesn’t life often get in the way of life?

I never really got to know my late grandfather but he was always a figure that hovered above in life. In death, he looms just as high above me. It was the first death I’d ever experienced and till today, I don’t think of him as dead as much as I do, dying. He’s not alive and he’s not gone either. He’s constantly existing in a realm of death therefore he is ‘dying’ as opposed to living. The logic is that when he was alive, when I didn’t see him, I’d think of him. Now that I don’t see him I still think of him. He comes back in my dreams from time to time in different characters and different ways, taking up space in my subconscious, personifying guilt, nostalgia and goodness. It’s always a comfort to see him. I don’t know if he would really approve of me if he knew me intimately, hence the guilt. I think that in real life he would find me odd or wayward but in my dreams, he likes me because I’m like him. Every time I find someone I like or can look up to I find that they describe me in some ways. Darwin was right. Attraction is narcissism.

After my grandfather finished playing the guitar in my dream, I turned my attention to some of my friends were a few feet away, trying to fish agave worms out from tequila bottles. When I turned around, my grandfather had gone. I asked Shanaz where he was and she told me he was drunk and had gone off to the mosque to marry ‘Aunty Yuz’ and said that as a joke, he was going to change her name to ‘Fuck Yuz’ after they got married. Erm, yeah. The irony is my grandfather had three wives. I guess one more wouldn’t hurt.

Me and my strange dreams. I was getting shot at with a nail gun by someone’s schizophrenic father the night before. Sheesh.

Arahmaiani Broke a Plate

Arahmaiani

Just yesterday I read up on Indonesian artist, Arahmaiani. I have a feeling that she may be the most relevant and important artist I will ever come to discover. What blew my mind about her was reading about her ‘Breaking Words’ performance at Satu Kali in Kuala Lumpur. She invited her audience to write words that had either positive or negative meanings to them on plates. She wrote ‘Allah’ on a plate and smashed all the plates up against the wall. One of the audience members reported her to the police and they responded. She later received threats from people who wanted to harm her and “drink her blood.” What savagery.

What I thought was brilliant about it was that it invoked so many feelings in people, mostly anger and shock but all she did was smash a plate. It was just a plate.

“Of course if you analyse the work iconographically, what (Arahmaiani was) doing was returning Islam to its iconoclastic roots. The word itself was not the important thing—the origins of Islam are based on the breaking of the idol.”

- Ray Langenbach

Ray Langenbach is right. There is nothing in Islam that says “do not write Allah’s name on a plate and break it” but Islam does discourage idolatry. God and his prophets are not allowed to have a face because it allows opportunity for misinterpretation. According to Greek traditions, the tradition of smashing plates in its earliest form, was “an ancient custom of ritually “killing” the ceramic vessels used for feasts commemorating the dead. The voluntary breaking of plates, which is a type of controlled loss, may also have helped participants in dealing with the deaths of their loved ones, a loss which they could not control.” [source]

To my knowledge, this Greek tradition was not correlated with Arahmaini’s performance but when interpreted as such, I believe that it gives a very powerful and poignant message about how people are constantly trying to understand God and they cannot. So she smashed the plate in letting go, in accepting a “controlled loss” over truly understanding the purpose of God.

If only religious people and fundamentalists of all backgrounds understood this – that you can learn and pray all you want but we will never know till the end. There’s no good in shooting, hitting, killing or getting angry at one another because of the unknown face of God. God does not give sermons. People give sermons.

I feel safer knowing that there is someone like Arahmaiani standing guard for those of us who dispute religious fundamentalism. I strongly believe that fundamentalist Muslims in Malaysia tend to bully everyone else who is not them. They oppress art, ban films, art shows, musical performances and want to remove any form of expressiveness because if it is unfamiliar, it is deemed unIslamic and it should not be the way. It makes so many people unhappy. Have they never heard of whirling dervishes? They’re beautiful! Islam is supposed to be an intellectual and informed religion but this over-protectiveness over people’s thoughts is unhealthy, hurtful and barbaric. It makes the country an unsavoury place to visit even if majority of the country are still easygoing, friendly and liberal people.

It is easy for fundamentalists to recruit moderate Muslims because we all share the same fear of God but the violence and distrust for other people that comes with it is not right. It has made it unsafe and unwelcoming for people to practice religion because fundamentalists recruit people through fear. They call it the power of God but I’m more afraid of a God that will make people hurt other people over menial acts than a God that will likely send me to a heaven or hell. God may be merciful or wrathful but it’s the religious fundamentalists of all kinds that I’m afraid of. It’s scary knowing that innocent people are not going to be able to seek amnesty especially from governments who have strong religious ties. How far will the extent go, that human beings will police other human beings on ‘God’s behalf’?

I commend Arahmaiani and her courageous works which dispute religious repression. I myself, am thankful for her.

Gone Too Soon

Mikhail Hyder (1986 - 2008)

It’s weird being older than someone who’s older than you. I still don’t understand what happened and I don’t like to think that there was anything to be learned from this. Largely because it should never have happened. I feel like our authorities failed us. In the process of upholding the invention of  black-and-white institutionalisation, someone very dear slipped through our fingers. He was just a kid. Were he here now we would be out celebrating tonight. We would have kept him safe.

We love you very much, Mikh.  Happy birthday.

Do not let go before 1986
No love is lost
My time is yours.

Love and Marriage

Love and Marriage

My sick sense of humour. I give it away for free.

More Awkward Pubescence

 

Maieusiophobia

Main Entry:	maieusiophobia
Part of Speech:	n
Definition:	a fear of childbirth; also written maieuticophobia
Etymology:	Greek maieutic ‘obstetric’

I hit puberty nearly a decade ago but now it’s like I’m anticipating a new sort of pubescence. Everyone is getting married. This is like unexpected growth spurt number five. Friend’s weddings remind me of before I got my first period. I’m watching everyone get theirs and wondering when I’m going to get mine. I don’t know what it’s like and I wonder if I even want one. It changes everything, doesn’t it? Life as I ever knew it. Childhood seems so small and I’ll never be this small again.

Satu ringgit, satu ringgit.

Racun semut, racun tikus.

Satu ringgit, satu ringgit.

Hate, Fight, Fuck.

“Love thine enemy.”

I can imagine that the longer lovers stay together, the more comfortable they are with going longer without have sex. Love or the cyclic process of life delivers unto them the complacence to accept when sex comes out of play rather than desire; out of obligation and nostalgia rather than a throbbing in your genitals. It’s called ’settling down.’ Again, I imagine.

You have tested and found a mate suitable to procreate with so you can take it easy, keep them for storage for when the winters really do get cold. Without lust, the rest is all mental. Love is a well thought out process.

After primal urges there is civility and we are only truly civil to people we do not want to fuck. We clink glasses and shake hands with colleagues, laugh politely with friends and sip tea quietly at grandma’s. Yet you can grin and bear your teeth to your enemies before you fight them like a war dance, like a violent storming rain. Before that (first): crunching blow to the jaw; (second) tearing at the hair, (three, four) taking them down to the floor, you are real. Real people wish to be animals. Animals are computers that know what they want before they know they want it, and know how to get what they want before they want it. Love thine enemy. No one ever said why.

So okay, maybe you’re not being civil. Maybe, what if, primal was the new civil and you probably still did not want to fuck your enemies? Either way, with blood on your fists and flesh between your teeth I can guarantee you that you’re going to feel like fucking something. May it be noted that: (love thine enemy) hate-fucking counts.

Au revoir, nape piercing (2007-2009)

Fare thee well, my darling

The end of a relationship is always sad and I’ve dreaded the day this one had to go too. I’ve had my nape piercing for about two years now and it’s had some major keloid carnage. You can’t see it in the picture because I photoshopped it out to save the squeamish.

Unless you like piercings it’s probably going to be difficult to understand how attached I’ve gotten to it. You develop relationships with significant piercings. I’m down from nine to eight now when my maximum used to be eleven when I had my lip pierced. The lip piecing only lasted two months even though I liked how it looked. It was just annoying that I kept playing with it. I thought I looked like a cow chewing on grass.

I have an affinity towards piercings more than I do, tattoos. I got one tattoo done at 16 1/2 on a whim and never bothered getting another one since.

Labret from 2008

I was under a lot of stress when I had the nape of my neck pierced. The lady who was piercing me asked me if it hurt as soon as she went through. “No, it actually feels pretty good,” were my very words. She was pierced and tattooed all over but even she was surprised. I wasn’t kidding. Ironically, I felt as though a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It was a really good piercing. It didn’t disturb me when I slept and things hardly ever got snagged onto it. The only thing was it might get a little swollen if I was tired. I’m going to miss having it so much. I loved you, nape piercing. We had some good times. *sigh*

Akira Isogawa Inspires at the IMA

My coverage of Akira at the IMA

Akira Isogawa gave a talk at the IMA a couple of weeks ago which I photographed. So far it seems I’m the IMA official photographer but urggghh, what I wouldn’t give for a better camera cos I’m still using a Canon Eos400D. How embarrassing but that’s what happens when you can’t get paid work. ]:(

Akira Isogawa, although originally from Japan, is an internationally celebrated Sydney-based fashion designer. I don’t know fashion nearly as well as I know film but it was nice to see a large group of fashion enthusiasts gathered to watch him speak. Passionate fashion lovers with dreams of making the big time. It wasn’t very different from going into a talk with a successful filmmaker in a room full of film students. It was a very intimate talk and you really got the sense of who Akira was – passionate, precise, restless and wildly imaginative. I think a lot of people left that night feeling quite inspired. I love that warm, fuzzy feeling.

I think success in the creative industries really is about perseverance, fresh ideas and being in the right place at the right time. As for me, I hardly think I’m in the right place at the right time although I must be. My short film, Dream Cradle, is still in post production and will hopefully commence special effects in three weeks time. It’s what’s still keeping me in Brisbane. The trouble is the dedication is causing me to sacrifice so much but it’s not called ’sacrifice’ for nothing.

In the meantime, I’m still struggling to find anything paid in Brisbane and it’s shit on my morale. I’ve been struggling to compile my portfolio and unfortunately I haven’t been doing much film work either. Just photography and writing blogs, short stories and articles. But hey, it happens to everyone when they start out. Unless you’re born into it, there can’t be much foresight for the young, fresh uni grad to pursue a wonderful career, only perseverance. A lot of the frustration comes from the mystery of what is ahead but if you’re consistently on track of your goals, you should be fine. So I tell myself. *bites fist* Oh, I want peace of mind nowww.

O, to be celebrated

Till the morning that I can wake up in a hotel in a different city because I have to attend yet another film festival upon invitation, there will be more fist biting and ogling over Akira’s beautiful attention to detail among other little things to keep my heart patiently at ease. Distractions are good and so are ruffles. I love ruffles, handmade cotton flower details, chiffon and origami plaits on dresses. Don’t judge me. Something around here’s got to keep my blood pressure down. <3

The Great Sabahan Alien Invasion

Rebel outlines ‘invasion’ plan

By PHILIP GOLINGAI

Sunday October 4, 2009

“Maintaining that it has valid reasons to ganyang Malaysia, Bendera’s leader reveals details of its planned invasion on Oct 8. Should we be worried?”

“… my Indonesian journalist friend Samiaji Bintang brought me for a face-to-face interview with Adian Napitupulu, a 38-year-old Batak man spearheading a vigilante group that has vowed to ganyang (crush) Malaysia.”

It’s not pretty news nor is it new news. It’s a disturbing article to read but in my opinion this is possibly the most pertinent of all current Malaysian political issues. Over the last three decades, East Malaysia has been flooded by illegal immigrants from Indonesia and the Philippines and the numbers are absurdly high. NGO reports have estimated that about 2/3 of our population is now made up of illegal immigrants. Bear in mind that Sabah is ranked third in population density in Malaysia followed after Johor and Selangor.

The U.S. State Department blacklists Malaysia as one of the worst offenders of human trafficking because of how little action the Malaysian government has taken to solve this issue, and they have a point. It is a wonder that this issue is not regarded as the most calamitous issue in Malaysia. With numbers such as these, locals are worried not only about an invasion, but of war. It could be paranoiac exaggeration but they are real fears. There was an occasion some years ago when there was a rumour where we were told to stay home because PTIs were going to attack us with machine guns. No one knew whether to take it seriously. All we could do was hang our heads low and hope it wasn’t true. Damn feeling so helpless.

So allow me to paint a portion of a picture for those of you who have never been to East Malaysia: in Kota Kinabalu, the capital city of the state of Sabah, there is an island across from the main city area called Pulau Gaya. A miniature town built on an island, sitting there as broad as daylight, home to maybe thousands of immigrants. It’s a mysterious island where locals are unwelcome however I have a friend who went there in the 1980’s who told me that they have their own schools, facilities… machine guns and weaponry. It’s a mystery how they have managed to procure the most basic of amenities such as water but they’ve managed on that island for decades. Pulau Gaya is only one of the several PTI (pendatang tanpa izin – illegal immigrants) squatter communities conveniently located around Kota Kinabalu, Tawau, Sandakan.

Through a bad flurry of events including bribery, political corruption and access to the black market, Sabah has been hit far worse than Sarawak. Its neighbouring country, Brunei however, seems untouched. Unlike West Malaysia and Singapore where you can see Chinese or Indian janitor ladies, you would never get that in Sabah.The immigrants who arrive in Sabah take on unpalatable jobs as maids, waitresses, construction workers, labourers, janitors et al. It’s pretty much always Indonesians or Filipinos who do all the grunt work and to tell you the truth, some of the time I can hardly tell the difference between them and the locals because we do have similar heritages. Even I’m part Filipino. Without an education and faced with prejudice for obvious reasons, their arrival in Malaysia is no American Dream. Still, a housekeeper in Malaysia may get paid higher than a doctor from their home countries.

A few years ago it was common to see children hanging around the city central were there are some nightclubs, bars and restaurants. Nowadays it’s not as common a sight but who knows where they’ve gone. These were the children of PTIs born without countries to call home; without citizenships or education, these kids have bleak futures and a lot of them probably don’t know how to speak the original dialects of their home countries. These children will likely not do much better than their parents. It used to be that even past midnight you could see 10 year old girls holding babies or little boys of all ages covered in grime, sniffing glue from plastic bags, walking around begging for money. They didn’t sleep on the streets and it was hard to tell where they came from. If they came from Pulau Gaya, that’s a daily 15-20 minute boat ride just to beg. It’s inhumane but Sabah, which is also the poorest state in Malaysia, has had to practically deal with this issue alone. Although Sabahans have been criticised even by international media, it’s hard for locals to know what to do when through illegal means or corrupt politicking, it has been possible for PTIs to receive MyKads and take advantage of bumiputera privileges whereas in some cases, local natives have been reduced to Permanent Residencies, removing their rights to vote. To add insult to injury, you still get Indonesians and Filipinos who insist that Sabah belongs to them, not Malaysia.

Now where do I stand on this? I think that this problem has gotten way out of hand. Without question, Malaysia needs to take this issue seriously especially since it’s a question of national security. Indonesia and the Philippines have been fighting to claim Sabah for decades and now it seems that they could be willing to take aggressive action. Unanimously and undoubtedly, Sabahans would rather be a part of Malaysia and I would like to think that this is reciprocated. Although I sympathise for the immigrants who have taken great pains to cross international borders, this issue still needs to be dealt with humanely and permanently in order to maintain the peace. I also think that the government and other international bodies should talk to Indonesia, who needs to take responsibility for its people who are fighting tooth and nail to leave their country illegally. Even countries such as Australia have to go through great pains to deal with these asylum seekers. The irony about the recent hunger strikes held by the Indonesian asylum seekers is that there are also Malaysians on board the ship. No pun intended, in the pursuit of better lives, we’re all on the same boat.

It only takes PTIs RM450 to hop onto a boat to brave a fairly difficult and I’m sure, hardly safe voyage to Malaysia. This problem will only escalate if not taken by the horns. Nonetheless it is certainly not in my opinion that all Indonesian and Filipino immigrants legal and illegal should be extradited, nor do I wish for them to be held up in detention centers. I think that there is some room in Malaysia to allow certain numbers in for skilled immigration. There has to be a way that we can compromise. Research needs to be made because we can no longer afford to make callous decisions in the effort to eradicate this problem. These PTIs are human beings and they need to be treated as such without compromising the interests or security of state and country. Malaysians need to know that Sabah’s problems are also Malaysia’s problems.

Nonetheless, don’t get me wrong and don’t let the Ministry of Tourism freak out at me. Sabah is still safe to travel to. Hahah. “Erm yeah right, thank you for being so convincing.” Seriously. Hey, I’m going back next week and I’m happy to. I’m gonna be eating ngau chap, drinking beer and watching the mountain, not just worrying about dodging bullets. Yeah. So convincing. Whatever. More ngau chap for me. ]:p

Anyway, I digress. I suggest that those of you who are unfamiliar with the subject, do some research online. It’s an important subject for Malaysians to be knowledgeable about and there are fascinating articles all over the internet. Here are a few to start you off on a major human rights issue happening in Malaysia:

http://www.thenutgraph.com/aliens-in-east-malaysia
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Illegal_immigrants_in_Malaysia
http://www.malaysiakini.com/opinions/46691

Good day and good luck or as they would say in Sabah, aramaiti.