Simpler times...

I’m sitting here, trying to gather all my memories of back when - to a point in 

my life where distractions were far and few, when expectations to succeed was zilch, 

when doing something was for the sake of the joy of doing it. I couldn’t help but 

tear up, wondering if I can step back in time to summon the innocence. 

Remember when we listened to an album (on cassette or CDs) over and over?

Back in school days, I knew all the lyrics to my favourite songs on NKOTB 

(New Kids On The Block) cassettes, every second of the recordings.  I could hum 

all the tunes on my precious collection of Yukie Nishimura albums.  

Those were the times I knew every detail of the radio hits - Paula Abdul’s Rush Rush, 

Mariah Carey’s Emotions, Dream Lover...and I never cared if I actually sounded like 

Whitney Houston, in my mind I did everything I knew how to do - 

to sing exactly like her, I Will Always Love You, etc...

And all those school holidays were spent like a real holiday, just reading 

books after books. No stopping for anything when I was reading, just turn the 

pages until you’re tired and sleepy, or need to go toilet. No stopping because of 

a text message about something more interesting..

And days before Facebook and YouTube, I’d listened to a ‘mixtape’ playlist that 

I copied from Zalina Lee’s computer - more than a decade ago - and I’d 

play those songs to death...now I don’t even go back to that list. 

There were Jill Scott, Ella Fitzgerald, Nina Freelon, Erykah Badu, Sara Vaughan, 

Santana on that playlist.

And then there were those Italian arias and art songs, I could sing them 

backward because during the singing competition seasons, and the 

one exam I sat for - all of my free time was just devoted to practising.

I get emotional just thinking of those days of lesser responsibilities, 

all we do is just sing, practice, and play your records over and over.

Now that my bookings/business has came to a halt. I have the time to 

let this fact sink in, and make a deep imprint on my mind - Wei, do you realise how 

bloody long have you not done things without distraction?

Even with my smart phone perpetually on silent, and my WhatsApp 

set to no notification - my mind is still crowded with a million things to do, 

to accomplish. It’s no wonder I don’t do many things well. A master of none, 

for I seek pleasures and joys from too many things.

It doesn’t have to be this way. This desire to do many things, 

and the impatience...A race to the finishing line. The need to complete 

the learning in one day. The urge to sound perfect in every take.  

The incessant envying of other voices. The nagging voice of 

needing to contribute to the “noise”.  

I bet you’re exhausted already just reading this.

There’s got to be a way to juggle this - keeping the noise and distraction at bay, and yet not losing 

touch with the pace of everything is going.

What’s your take on this madness?

But I know my madness is largely my own doing, for the person I (still) am today - 

wanting to do too many things and not giving each task enough time.  

Around me I have friends who still manage well in living their balanced, 

less distracted lives. MCO or not, they are above the water.

Just writing these down for my own reminder. To streamline my projects, 

to be more dedicated to each of the activity I want to do.

p/s - just putting some context to my lamentation above: Having new 

gadgets at home for my music work - a mic and Pro Logic X, 

have rushed me into making polished recordings at home, fast. I have 

forgotten that I have in fact just learned how to sing in a studio 

a few seasons ago, with so little practice in between, what do I 

expect from doing it on my own without a producer? I need to find a 

balance point between picking up new tricks, and dedicating time to 

sit with my older habits, the more sensible kind - giving plenty of 

carefree time to do each thing.

Back to school days, come along now.

Fashion Diet 2020

Published on FB @ Jan 13, 2020. 

Monday morning musing. Had to skip my Monday morning ballet class today to lay low at home to allow body recuperate better from the nasty bug. Away from air-con rooms for as many hours as possible in a day. And no talking. 

In this photo, I’m wearing head to toe preloved items, the bag resting on my Muji suitcase (this is the only non secondhand item) is a secondhand Tsumori Chisato I found on my first trip to Bangkok more than 15 years ago. The dress is from Vinter Vintage (a 1940s inspired 80s swag dress) and the kitten heel is a preloved Christian Louboutin. 

Been reading articles and commentaries on how we are driving ourselves to end game with our endless shopping and consumption. The rise of fashion-for-rent and clothes-swapping, and community gifting projects and such - are the response of some of us, to the call of ‘saving the planet’. As much as I’m a big lover of buying secondhand, I’ve been shopping for years at brands like Zara, the thrill of seizing a piece of mass produced size XS still get me. But it gets increasingly hard to swallow the feeling of shame when I succumb to buying a brand new item from these boutiques. Knowing the person who made the garment is likely still underpaid, and the image of unsold clothing being burnt, or being thrashed to corners of the earth. 

I remember queueing up to pay for my amazing Zara treasures at a discount at the HK airport, while in the queue my eyes still dart around to see what else I’ve missed on the shelves. 

It’s the unquenchable thirst in me - to want more. 

I’m the same even when I shop secondhand. After having a pile of confirmed items, I won’t stop, I still mull about with my eyes open. That’s why I’m grateful for people like Lone Friis Larsen and Antonia Ghazlan (of Vinter Vintage and Antonia Ghazlan's Vintage) who’d tell me “Janet that’s enough for today, you can come back a few weeks later to shop.” 

Two things. I need to go on a shopping-diet, formulate a kind of shopping that my conscience can accept. I’m contemplating a year or no buying brand new clothes or accessories from the big brands. (In fact - this should be a lifelong practice. I’ve stopped buying brand new mass produced costume jewelry for ages to start with) 

And second...

To be continued - next post. 

(I stopped here for now because IG didn’t allow longer post than this, will continue in a bit) 

#janetfashion #janetwrites #janetvintage #potd #secondhand#responsibleshopping #greenfashion

Part 2, published on Facebook on Jan 15, 2020. 

Continuing from my Monday morning post - part 2 lamentation of a shopaholic and on making more responsible consumer choices. 

(I really got a thing for green dresses huh?) In precious post I was talking about feeling ashamed of buying clothes from mass produced big brands who tend to over produce and underpay their workers. The dress in the first photo is from Zara, it’s soft, comfy and pretty and probably won’t last very long if it’s not cared for properly.  Lone Friis Larsen said that this is a vintage cut that they try to replicate. I wore a preloved Tory Burch ballet slippers from Scoop (secondhand designer boutique in Plaza Damas). 

In the second photo, I wore my new pullover tunic from Zara - possibly the last piece of brand new clothing for the year - if I succeed in my plan to buy only secondhand clothing for the year. Probably with the exception of underwear. The pants are a gift from Yeong Win-Ni from many years ago which I love and worn to death, like so many pieces of preloved that she’s gifted me through the years. It’s something we are proud of - extending the life of your items by choosing the right girlfriend to pass it on to. It gives your friendship some extra boost of loveliness too. My pearl necklace is vintage, my comfy and stylish kickers are secondhand from another girlfriend of mine who’s gifted me lots too - Bernie Chan - the zip-up hoodie sweater is secondhand, my hairband is from @sammiesmama.my - I still love to buy and support ‘cottage industry’ and local artisan brands. 

Yes I have a weakness for Zara catalogue. But it’s also a true fact that I have enough clothes to last me a year even I don’t wash or repeat clothes for a year! 

Second thing I gotta do (thing one is the shopping diet) is to have a philosophical meditation and question the desire in me - why the constant need for more clothes. Is there fear? Void? Pure greed, blame it on the fashionista’s spirit? I don’t know yet. That would be the topic of another post when I have some findings to report 🙂 Thank you for reading. Bet many of you have the same lament too? 

#janetwrites #janetfashion #janetvintage #secondhahd #preloved#wardrobediary #potd #fashionfile #ootd #sustainableliving #showgirldiary

He Was Beautiful

Published on Facebook on April 18. 

So here it is, the duet recording. Another round of jiwang story from me in one day, just happen to be in the mood la...

Youtube video here 

===========

He Was Beautiful by Stanely Myers. I dedicate this performance to an old friend, my Sitting Duck J. 

This is a distance duet with Tay Cher Siang. Home recording, pardon the raw sound. 

He Was Beautiful, beautiful to my eyes... Actually it was the other way round. He was one who made me believe that I was beautiful in his eyes. When he accidentally discovered that I love singing, and that it was my serious hobby (I was working in his office then as a clueless admin assistant), he became curious and we became close friends. A few years later, we became partners. He opened my eyes to see that when a person is passionate about her art, she is most beautiful; besides showing me what kindness is. 

He said his job was to help me sing, not like teaching me how to sing better, but to do whatever he could to encourage me, to enable me to continue to sing. It was him, and my best friend Chong See Ming who told me to quit the day job, and follow the light of my passion. All fifteen years ago. 

Such a lucky soul I am to have had someone who believed so much in what I do, and who lived by my side - but never crowd me, to see that I keep doing what brings me joy. 

Though now long gone from my side, I only have to remind myself of what he said to me back then - each time I feel down and dispirited. 

"Doesn't matter if you didn't win this time, or didn't do well last night. You just need to make sure that you will continue to practice and practice, and you WILL get better each time. The only thing you need to do is keep going, never stop." 

That, enough to keep me on my feet. 

I still have image of me coming back from a show to find him lying on my sofa, playing computer games. He'd look up and smiled at me sheepishly, "One day, you're going to be a superstar and earning the bucks for both of us, and all I do then is just to play computer games, hehehehe." 

I am such an emo fella right? Well, I can use the emotions in my music and it makes everything feels just right.

Thank you for indulging me, and I hope you like this duet. Thank you boss Cher Siang for being here, all these years - keeping me on my feet with your music. Justin always said you were a good thing for my music. I guess I have to thank all the angels in my life. 

OK, enough emo shit for one day. I gotta save some for next day...

#janetleemusic #rememberingsittingduck #distanceduet #cavatina#riderinthewind #duet #MCOsingingfromhome

Something that runs in the family...

I won't even say how astonishing it is, how little I know about my parents' past.  Let's just put me in a box as a someone who knows nothing about her parents then.  Easier that way.

There is a wealth of stories in them.  Mom is more inclined to sit me down and tell them to me.  Dad is more a be-in-the-present guy.  I call it wealth because I find that I'm interested to know them, more than I knew.  I don't know if it's because I love stories, or because these are my parents' stories.

Or is it because it might give me glimpses into myself - of things I don't yet know about?  I don't know.

Today mom continued with another snippet of her friendships with men from the past.  She started last night over dinner.  There was this man who my dad's friend, his name "Ah Jor".  Mom was going out with dad when she got to know this person.  Ah Jor worked in the hospital.

One time mom had to be admitted into the hospital due to an infection, post minor surgery.  Mom said both dad and Ah Jor had each brought fruits to visit her at the ward.  She said dad brought some old and wrinkly looking apples, while Ah Jor brought grapes and even washed them for her.

She said the nurses at the hospital all looked on as young mom received these male visitors.  They asked her, "So which one of them is your boyfriend?" She asked them to guess, they thought Ah Jor. When asked why, the nurses replied of course they thought Ah Jor, because grapes were more expensive that the fact that he spent on them and washed them for mom meant something to them.

Dad is always in the same room with us when stories like these are shared.  I can't tell if he was listening or not, I can't tell if knowing these stories are shared bothers him.  I don't know.

This guys died of cancer at some point.  We'll never know whether he was in love with mom or not, I guess it doesn't matter...

============

Other stories of their past, and of their union in marriage - are the kind of comments uttered by each of their immediate families.  My mom's adoptive family lamented, "Aiya of all people, why choose this man who hasn't got any money to marry!"

And my mom has the story of the counterpart, people from my dad's family said about mom - a lowly girl who did not go to school and was just a maid in a house.  Mom said she was labelled as "leftover" because she has been out with two other guys before my dad.

My mom was adopted into a family of many children, some older and some younger than her.  She was the only non-blood relation.  Her ended up doing housework for them, after she dropped out of school after just a short period. She said she was put in year three class when she started, helpless and no way to catch up with school (she was belittled by teacher and  called stupid all the time), she stopped.

I've heard countless times, the story of how dad had to borrow money for the wedding, the dowry money.  The dowry was shown to mom's family, and promptly taken back.  "The money was just to make a show, but never given to my mom.  He was that poor." Mom recalled.

I guess I feel sorry for them both, and then there is a sense of pride too - for the amount of struggles they've had, they are still around.

There are numerous other tales of their 'past lives', most of them sound almost like plots that jump right of movie scripts and soap operas - to me.  And I know why - because I have lived, and is living such a vastly, dramatically different life, just one generation apart.  The kind of hardship known to them, can only be something I can only imagine.

All the stories that run through our daily meals nowadays, whether it is of my dad's or of my mom's - I seem to listen to them with more emotion than I would with other stories.

So anyway, mom talked about the two ex-boyfriends she had last night.  I asked her to clarify what constitute being in a relationship back in her day, "Did you guys have to officially announce to each other that - OK, you're now my girlfriend, I'm your boyfriend, etc?"

No, you don't do that.  If you're out alone with each other, doing the whole going to movie and walking around at parks and garden, you're dating and having a relationship all right.

I see.

"I think maybe he was warned, about me.  I never found out why it didn't happen.  We did't fight or anything.  It was just over." Mom never said or use terms like 'breaking up' or 'dump' - but it is obvious that she was telling me that the guys left her.

Warned about her?  What about her - what's wrong with who she was?  The stigma of being the "dish-washing" "maid" girl who's not been schooled?

Only now I can truly appreciate on a deeper level, and see for myself, the amount of hurt and self-loathe that my mom carries with her, all her life.

Adopted child, uneducated, did housework as a job.  All these - just facts about a person that say nothing about a person's character - that have swallowed my mom whole.  Her whole life seems like a walking apology.  I was adopted, therefore I am less.  I don't read and write like other, therefore I am less  (mom actually did learn to read and write Chinese on her own)...

Reading books like Freakanomics, More Sex Is Better Sex and , gives me an insight into how things we cannot control in our lives, can affect how our lives pan out, and possibly our behaviour and fate.

In some ways, I see a wry similarity between my mom and myself.

Now more than ever, I recall how I was in school, and now at work place.  Underneath all my flamboyance and vivacious ways of handling people, is my lifelong plague of self-doubt and imposter syndrome.   I have spent far too long thinking that I'm a mediocre, not really smart, out of league with all other amazing people, will likely end up alone, etc etc.

I take great joy in enjoying my achievements, the joy is such sweetness because I'd look back at how low I have come from my beginning.  "Look at this now, I can't believe I get to be here."

It might seem like, with so much inferiority embedded in my system, I should be paying back for my successes and achievements with utmost gratitude and never take anything for granted.

I think I do, I say thank you too frequently, too long.

It just feel like, maybe there is something inside me that wants to pull me down to the pit where I remind myself - "Remember your place, you're still that small, silly little girl who's not really good in anything."

But enough of that - at least I am aware of that.  I have to walk up to this inferiority and sort it out.  And now, with my parents now part of my life finally; I want to honour them by getting the full abundance out of my system.

Be as well as I can be, be good and be kind.

It would be a work in progress, as life is.  Wish me luck.

Mom's Birthday today - April 22

April 21 @ Facebook.

It’s mom’s birthday, today. At least that’s what we were told. I’m not really sure if mom knows that for sure herself. (I mean, we were all told our birthdates by others right? Not that we remember it ourselves kan?) 

Mom was an adopted child, by a tough cookie woman who came from China and survived here in Malaya. Mom’s own family was too poor so she was given up. 

Anyway, mom didn’t have a lot of privileges in her younger life; I think my dad Chee Kheong Lee is one of her biggest angels in life; who is still taking care of her now, through thick and thin. Albeit their differences, they are still here, living together. How many of us can do that (I know I would have given it up myself) 

Mom said, and reminded us all many times that she doesn’t want to celebrate this birthday or us doing anything special for her on this date. “So much suffering out there now, I don’t need a celebration. It’s going to be just another day.” 

Blessed birthday old gal. Just keep smiling and drink more water, all will be well. 

Thank you Dad. 

P/s - mom and I share birthdays on the same week, just two days apart:) I WILL be celebrating mine this year, by keeping my soul alive and well by singing from home. 

#family #momsbirthday #momandpop #parentingmyparents #janetwrites#potd #birthdaygirl #taipingmali

It's NOT workout - it's a gift

April 21 @Facebook

Had an epiphany earlier towards the end of workout when I was cooling down with this class. 

We call this thing a “workout”, something to compare to working, even sloughing out. But what I felt just 10 minutes ago while cooling down - after I pucker my face like a sour plum while getting my abs to cooperate with sit-ups, lunges and free weights - I realized this isn’t WORK for me. This has, something totally TOTALLY surprised me, become something my body and mind look forward to receiving every morning. I’ve never in my life imagined one day I’ll be living my days looking forward to the short 30-40 minutes every morning to...working out! 

This has only been more than two weeks of me in this routine. Get out of bed, make bed, boil water, make lemon water, set my mat in the middle of room bedroom, select a workout video and get down to this “moving-meditation’. 

I understand now, today, that, exercising daily is a gift I give to myself. My mind and body have been receiving it and I can see that the peaceful feeling I get every morning before I set out to do other work, is an honest and genuine gratitude I have for this life, for the body I have that is still healthy. 

A day ago I woke up later than my new usual, and told myself I’d give myself a break from the morning exercise. So I laid back and took it slow. But 10 minutes later, something in me stirred and I could literally hear a voice from my body saying, “Hey dude, but we are waiting for the workout, man! Come on, move it. You don’t feel like it today but we want it!” 

I swear, it was like my body and mind didn’t know how to shift into next gear for the day. While my head/brain attempted to skip the routine workout, something else in me, part of my brain too I’m sure - was demanding for what it has gotten used to. 

I was in shock, pleasantly shocked. So I got out and made the lemon water and got to my mat and did a shorter workout for the day. 

...ok I’m late for lunch! Just thought I’ll write these down before it escapes me 🙂

Whaddaya think? Wanna give this a try? 

#janetfitness #janetwrites

After watching Jeff Gibbs' The Planet of Humans

April 29 @ Facebook:

That's why some of us like Thanos... This is another of my TLDR posts. It's an emotional response to a topic that I hold close to heart, after watching this documentary today. Read on only if you care to investigate. Chances are you won't even see this post on your feed. It's not entertaining...

Here we go. 

Am I afraid to voice an unpopular and a potentially nihilistic message? Is there a possibility of not going to the extreme? Being unpopular and morbid aside, with the piece of opinion I have now, I am trying to put myself in others' shoe and imagine what would my opinion be - 

If I were not me, but someone who WANTS to, and plan to have a child? -- I will come back to why I ask this later..

Saw this link on Anna Rina's feed and promptly saved it and watched it in two sittings today. 

This documentary, presented by Michael Moore , is like the many ones that I enjoyed watching before, is grim, moving. YES, I have read reviews and responses from the OTHER side that says this film has many erroneous and misleading facts about clean energy and climate activism. 

But the bottom line remains crystal and sparkling clear for me - the world is fucked because there are too many human beings using too much, too fast.

So then what? Every new mother, every couple planning to have children should be ostracised and chided for destroying our planet? What if tomorrow I wake up and really wish to have a child of my own blood? 

....I will quote from the film: 

"It took modern human tens of thousands of years to reach a population of 700 million. And then we tapped into millions of years of stored energy, known as fossil fuels. Our human population exploded. It increased by 10 times, in a mere 200 years. Our consumption has also exploded. On average, ten times per person, and many times more in the Western world.

You put the two together, the result us a total human impact 100 times greater than only 200 years ago. 

That is the most terrifying realisation I've ever had. 

We humans are poised for a fall from an unimaginable height. Not because of one thing, not climate change alone, but all the human-caused changes the planet is suffering from." 

2nd quote, from Sheldon Solomon:
"We don't like we're animals. So we don't like that we're gonna die someday. What human beings did in yesterday is to envelope ourselves in culturally constructive belief systems.

...And every culture offers its denizens hope of immortality, either literally or symbolically. Then the question is, well, what happens when you bump into people who don't share those beliefs? Whether you know it or not, whether you like it or not, but thats undermining the confidence, 

If we were to make progress, whatever that word means, even to persist as a form of life, we're gonna need to radically overhaul our basic conception of who and what we are and what it is that we value.

Because those people on the left or on the right, that think we are going to be able to discover more oil. Our solar panel ourselves into the future, where life will look pretty much like it does now...only cleaner and better, I think that's just frankly delusional." 

========

As I am typing this post, I am multitasking by reading reviews and critic of this documentary - to try to gain a balance knowledge of the issue at hand. I am still reading - and I will share the links in the comment section. 

(There is one article titled "Having fewer kids won't save the climate.") 

This is not a post with any conclusion. I'm as disturbed as ever, and I question my way of living as part to blame (or not?). 

On a happier note, I have started passing my kitchen organic waste to my home farmer-friend Pc Foo who lives down the road from me, for his home farm composting. Thank you neighbour :)

On that note, I'm going back to my reading. Watch this.

#lockdowndiary #overpopulation #planetofthehumans #michaelmoore

Day to remember - when Mom cooks

April 30 --

Happy day today at home 🙂 Mom cooked today!! With the support from my dad, this gorgeous one pot vegan porridge is yummy! 

She quipped that she’s just the extra, and dad made the rice. She cut up all the ingredients and did the rest. 

Mom hasn’t cooked for past 2 years or so. So this is a big step for her here today and we hope she keeps going back to the kitchen 🙂 and brings back her delicious dishes. 

#parentingmyparents