Filling the massive, “Inside Out”-shaped void in my life

I’m sure those who know me in person know that I’m a massive animation fan and that my favourite animation studio’s Pixar (not Disney.) I’ve constantly looked forward to their regular releases, hyping myself out with all the promotional material Pixar’s so good at releasing online, and hence when I learned about the delay of the release of their much anticipated Inside Out in my country, I was absolutely gutted.

Everywhere, critics, reviewers and casual movie-goers alike are singing high praises of the movie, as I look on through the little glass screens of my laptop and phone like a sad, deprived Dickensian kid.

Of course, I’ve considered taking the easy way out – torrenting the movie so that I will no longer have to endure the excruciating wait – but no, a low quality version of the movie simply wouldn’t do. As every self-respecting Pixar fan knows, only a cinematic experience can do full justice to all the work that their artists, designers and animators have put into every single one of their films. (Except maybe Cars 2.)

So I abstained.

Watched all the promotional clips of Inside Out again, along with all the behind the scenes footage of said film and other Pixar films, went through playlists of Pixar shorts, even started watching CalArts shorts – all that couldn’t fill the massive “Inside Out“-shaped void in my life. But something came up today. My best friend wanted to visit an exhibition on deep sea marine life at the local Art Science Museum, and it just so happened that they were holding an exhibition featuring the art of Dreamworks Animation too. And this thus began our little adventure to the museum. Continue reading


The Prodigious Daughter’s Back! (No I’m just kidding)

After four days of mind-numbing boredom at my grandparents’ place and three days of being waited on hand and foot in one of the fanciest hotels I’ve ever been to, I’m home.


I’m not supposed to be home now, or technically, we didn’t plan to get me home this early, but I’ve got an interview for the residential college programme scheduled tomorrow so my parents decided to ship me home earlier. They’ll be returning tomorrow, so it’s not as if I’ll be left to my own devices for too long (thank god.) It’s so strange being home alone – everything’s so quiet and you feel like you’re given way too much power and responsibility – even though it shouldn’t feel so since I’m 18!! I’m not sure if I like doing the “alone” thing so much, I need someone to be around even if I don’t wish to talk to them – I just need someone to be around in case something happens, like if I blow up the kitchen or if I slip and fall in the bathroom. Continue reading

Of Monday morning binges

One of the most frustrating things about living in “not-America”‘s that timezones are often skewed to disadvantage you – especially if you’re an avid fan of American TV shows. Sunday nights often translated into Monday mornings, and for that very reason I could never watch the Academy Awards or the Tonys live for I was always trapped within the confines of the classroom whenever these award shows were on.
But over the past couple of months that I’ve been out of school, extraneous commitments became much less of an issue (I get exceptionally flexible hours at work) and so I started reclaiming Monday mornings. Continue reading

“Thank You For Phoning” Clara and the Twelfth Doctor sketch

Since BBC America called for Doctor Who fan art to be displayed at their SDCC booth a while ago, I’ve decided to make something new to submit since all my Doctor Who fan art’s been based off Matt Smith’s Doctor.

And as usual, you can buy this as a print/poster/card/[whatever merchandise you want] on Redbubble so do check that out and support my ridiculous book buying addiction. (I just bought a second hand copy of a first edition Transparent Things – yes, the Nabokov novel I named this blog after – earlier today…IT WAS ONLY FIFTEEN DOLLARS!!)

Museum Shenanigans – May 31, 2015

The best friend and I decided to hang out several days ago, on Vesak day, since neither of us were involved in religious festivities and we were both close to pulling all our hairs from our heads out of boredom. Since we were both running low on cash, we hardly had anywhere to go that wouldn’t require us to splurge, and we ended up lunching at a cheap udon place (which wasn’t too bad after all) and museum hopping. Not that we did much “hopping” since we ended up visiting only the Pinacothèque de Paris – we didn’t have much time to wander about because we had to get home before dinner.

Though the museum opened only the day before we decided to drop by, it was eerily quiet. Then again, most museums in Singapore are eerily quiet since the arts isn’t that big a thing here, unfortunately.

There were three separate galleries in the museum, each with art and historical displays of different themes. Strangely enough, we spent quite a significant portion of our time there in the first gallery, which not only had the least exhibits, but was also free to enter for all visitors.

The first gallery consisted of a small collection of neolithic to relatively modern artefacts from the Southeast Asian territory, chronologically arranged to follow the narrative and development of Austronesian migration as well as the progress of its derivative civilisations.

It felt rather odd seeing such artefacts up close in person given that I’ve spent several months reading up on these cultures in preparation for my Oxford interview, and that should I get end up studying archaeology and anthropology at UCL in a few months, I’ll get to be able to see and examine more of such. That is, if I get the money to go to UCL. There’s just something so surreal about seeing artefacts that have survived through tens of thousands of years, knowing that someone made this statue, sculpture, painting, artefact long before you ever existed, and that its creator – and perhaps even the civilisation it represents – is long gone, but this thing still stands before you. I understand that was a really inelegant way of explaining that queer sense of awe I had whilst standing before these displays, but it is simply that the feeling’s so overwhelming that I can’t seem to put it down in words. The closest I can get is perhaps this quote from Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch:

“When I looked at the painting I felt the same convergence on a single point: a glancing sun-struck instance that existed now and forever”

Or maybe this:

“And in the midst of our dying, as we rise from the organic and sink back ignominiously into the organic, it is a glory and a privilege to love what Death doesn’t touch. For if disaster and oblivion have followed this painting down through time — so too has love. Insofar as it is immortal (and it is) I have a small, bright, immutable part in that immortality. It exists; and it keeps on existing.”

The second gallery houses a small collection of art from private collectors around the world (which otherwise means these works aren’t often featured in museums unless they’re loaned for specific displays.)

There weren’t as many paintings as I’d like to have seen, but I suppose it is difficult to coax art owners to loan pieces from their personal collections. (And I might just have been too spoiled by that one trip to the Musee D’Orsay.)

The final gallery – an exhibition on Cleopetra – took us the longest to get through, since it consisted of over a hundred artefacts on the queen of Egypt herself, as well as the Roman and Ptolemaic Egyptian civilisations surrounding her.

It was absolutely lovely getting to dawdle about a museum for the first time in months, though it’s obviously nothing compared to when the best friend and I roved around the Louvre for an entire day (but barely got to see half of what the museum had to offer). Two years on from our trip to Paris and we continue to reminisce about the wild times we had there, but alas I’m contented with the little faux-Parisian escapade we had today.