Beautiful Amnesia

It was the most honest gig I’ve been to in a long time.

For all her fame and super-stardom, Emiliana Torrini was down to earth and almost shy. She talked more than any musician I’ve seen and much to the audience’s delight shared stories that were potentially so embarrassing we mightn’t have told our best friends. Let’s just say that oversized Sloggi underwear and pubic hair were part of the mix as were her band members’ incredulous “I can’t believe she’s saying this!” expressions. Priceless. She is just delightful and so incredibly alive. There is no doubt about that. I read somewhere that cute and eccentric would sum up Emiliana perfectly and I can’t think of a better way to describe her.

For someone who admitted to being uncomfortable on a big stage, it was actually her slight awkwardness that accentuated her charm as she fumbled for words and forgot lyrics to a song or didn’t seem to quite know what to do with her hands. It was amazing to be right up the front where I could see every squint of her eyes and every exaggerated face she made to either make us laugh or to get a point across. Somehow she managed to achieved both very easily without being smooth and rehearsed. Whether Emiliana was telling her stories or singing her songs, she did so with the natural grace of someone brutally candid. Often, stories and songs flowed in and out of each other as naturally as they stayed together.

She said this before launching into her song “Big Jump” …

I met this person that completely inspires me because I realised that when I met him, that it takes a lot of bravery to be happy … and it’s kind of safe to just be … you know, comfortable or whatever but I’m not going to go into that …

This touched me infinitely.

Her voice was mesmerising and faultless - whenever she sang any hint of awkwardness faded as she disappeared behind a world that only she can see behind closed eyelids. Her left hand was always clenched into a peculiar fist and once in a while pulled at the hem of her dress in a way that was very natural for her. This is how she sings her songs. This is Emiliana Torrini. It is rare for me to feel like I had a glimpse of the real person but that night I did. And that made all the difference.

Over the weekend, we went and checked out the new sustainable Greenhouse Cafe at Federation square.

I liked the concept - everything in there was made out of recycled materials, including the wooden seats and tables with big holes in them. The layout was wide and spacious and allowed a genius use of natural light for ambience in the day. Insulation was made out of large packets of hay stuffed into the walls and made for interesting decor in itself. I also took to the organic pot plants that filled up spaces in the outside wall. The place smelled fresh and the overall vibe was light and bright. The upstairs open-air area was way too hot on the Sunday for us to linger but they had cool stools fashioned out of recycled metal and what seemed like magazine covers. There is more organic plant life surrounding the area. If you are tall and can look over and past the shrubbery, there’s a good view looking down Flinders Street and the Flinders Station.

What was a little testing was that we had to wait 25 minutes for two tiny recyclable bottles of orange juice. Admittedly they were freshly squeezed by hand but I still felt that the time waiting to time taken to drink juice ratio was extremely high - i.e. 25 minutes : 1 minute.

Overall the experience was pleasant, with newspapers provided for your wait time as they must have anticipated slow service due to things all being done the good old fashioned way. My fidgety response to the extended waiting time was due to my conditioning for having everything at the snap of my fingers. This place, I believe will be a good place for meditating on my sense of urgency. Try and wear long pants if you are settling in the indoor section as you might get big holy (holey) imprints on your thighs from sitting around on the - not too comfortable but definitely sustainable chairs with holes to mould bits of your flesh to be like cupcakes.

I discovered an amazing florist over the weekend - they are called the “Flower Temple“. Now, I’m not generally known for my affiliations to nature and all that is green but of late, there has been a sort of an awakening. I have been noticing flowers a lot more. I’ve also been photographing flowers a lot more. I’m not sure whether this new affliction has more to do with the recently purchased macro lens for my camera, or whether is coincides with my current almost scientific quest for spirituality. In an almost weird way, I’m starting to notice how science and the spirit have been converging and might even be one and the same. On that note, I am probably starting to sound quite off the radar here so I’ll move back to the topic of flowers.

The Flower Temple was not your typical floral boutique with roses and tulips (though they did have some of those). There were exotic species of strange plants and flowers of colourful and mysterious brilliance in there that one does not usually come across at a florist. The place itself was pleasantly serene - tranquil music and the sound of running water soothed in the background. And importantly unlike most shops, there was space to be.

I was having a most relaxing experience browsing in the store surrounded by the sweet scent of flowers and was perfectly happy marveling at the different varieties of floral matter. Then, I came across the phalaenopsis orchid and fell in love. You know how it is when you simply can’t take your eyes off someone, even if it’s in a crowded room full of other someones? That’s how it was for me and the phalaenopsis orchid. The flower itself was a sight of such delicate perfection. It’s petals were bright white and covered with the tiniest sheen of glitter, as if to say “look at me, look at how alive I am”. Right in the centre of the flower I made out a being so complete in itself that it was beyond beautiful. So much so it took my breath away. I couldn’t keep my eyes off that flower and was amazed at how it exuded an overwhelming presence that is quiet and unassuming - when I looked closer, I could see a meditative form awakening in a glory of subtle colours surrounded by the pure white of nothingness.

As insane as it may sound, it was the first time I’d ever felt so connected to a plant. I will now be watching carefully as the other buds begin to blossom in my home.

I went to Bikram Yoga for the first time a couple of days ago. I haven’t done any form of exercise in a long time except for walking long distances carrying a backpack full of camera gear. That was back in September.

I have heard positive stories about Bikram Yoga such as - “I feel more balanced, in all senses of the word” … “It rids the toxins from your body and your mind” and then I’ve heard the horror stories - “You sweat from places you never thought possible” … “people stink” … “it’s so @#$*ing hot!”

First lesson for me was unfortunately more about the horror stories coming true. The person beside me did smell funky and he also had a rip in his pants right where the asshole is. Not that I was looking or anything, I was trying mostly not to pass out in the 40 degree humid heat. It was made more unpleasant because there were too many people packed in too tightly in limited space with everyone sweating and breathing OUT their toxins with gusto! I can’t help but wonder, at the points where everyone is instructed to inhale and exhale at machine gun rate, what exactly we’re breathing back IN. I mean … really. The exhaling is ok, it’s the inhaling I have problems with.

As a first timer, I felt that 90 minutes was way too long and I did feel very dizzy and nauseous towards the end of the class. In that kind of humid heat, I didn’t feel like I was getting any oxygen into my system. I also didn’t manage to get into all the postures and a lot of the time I was trying not to hit the two people on either side of me. I did have a favourite posture though, the one where you just lay on your yoga mat. I’m very good at that one.

On the plus side, I did feel wonderful AFTER the ordeal. I felt tired but refreshed at the same time and the air outside never smelt sweeter. I also had a chance to marvel at the beads of sweat on my belly (I don’t think I’ve ever pespired this much before) because we spent a lot of time in postures that gave me opportunities to contemplate my navel. By the way, this deserves a mention - although I did sweat a lot, I was surprised that my eye make up stayed more or less intact throughout. I recommend Revlon. The fact is, I didn’t intend to go into class with eye make up on, I didn’t have time to take it off before having to rush into the six o’clock class. Besides, there’s really no extra energy available in there for any sort of vanity.

I’m going back again this evening for a second attempt. Despite all my complaints, I’m at the end of the day a Singaporean and I get free classes for the next week after having paid for my initial trial.

Seriously though, I see it as a challenge to focus my mind and body. There have been moments where my brain just went crazy and wanted any form of escape from its perceived nightmare. I could see my thoughts darting this way and that, looking for an out - “need to get out of here, can’t breathe, am going to die etc etc”. Any excuse to convince myself that I was in terrible misery. Which, no doubt, terrible misery was what I was in at certain acute points of the class. However, I found that if I could just concentrate and centre myself to the present moment - it passed.

And THAT is why I’m going back. So that the session can be a tool for me to be more conscious of my presence and to serve as a reminder that my mind will always seek to deny it.

So there I was, at the Docklands apalled at the miniscule outdoor area that was mostly take up by a large portable toilet van. Great. Hello Earthdance 2008! We got tagged with one of those annoying wrist bands that you can’t get off without a pair of scissors. “I sure hope there’s more to this” I thought as I tripped over someone dressed in a skin tight black latex skeleton jumpsuit. Nice.

Dreadlocks everywhere - I mean, I almost felt like me and my standard bob cut was the extraordinary sight in this place. I felt conspicuous! Outside, people in neon, fur, leather print, stockings armed with toy spidermen gathered in tight groups, joined together by their cigarettes. Why there was a large green van selling soft serves parked right in the middle of the already tight area is beyond my comprehension when we were already literally fenced in in the tiny outdoors. I had to force my way past the greatest bottle neck to get in and out of the shed, sometimes on tippy toes (because yes that makes me so much thinner than I already am), sometimes finding my self face to face just millimeters away from someone with ghoulish face paint trying to get out. That did something to my digestion.

There was alcohol served in a deep dark corner of the shed. It seemed so seedy, all tucked away behind the few other standard market stalls selling herbs and trinklets. It was so dark in there people hardly had any silhouettes. Scary stuff. Smelt funny too. In fact, I think I only realised it was there because I smelt it. All that being said, it was not that much brighter in front of the stage. There was half a shed at the most and almost pitch black. There was a corner where people were playing poi and twirling staves and this almost chubby little girl was really going at it with the hula hoop. One guy was just amazing with the pois and he was possibly the most interesting thing at the entire event. Oh maybe him and this girl with hardly anything on trying to twirl glow pois in a supposedly seductive manner which wasn’t really so I had to laugh. A lot.

The laser lights were pretty though, I suppose that’s maybe where our money went (I mean, $20 for Earthdance?). I had few good dances to some awesome techno trance but too quickly they switched to hip hop which is never danceable for me. Time for outside for some food.

My beef burger cost $8 and the patty was only semi-warm. I was trying to feel the peace but it was very difficult. Luckily, the firetwirlers came on outside when the sky darkened and I enjoyed that immensely even though I had to push past a stocky old man in a trenchcoat to get a view. I didn’t really care at that point and was ready to head off after people started stomping around to tin drums. Not because I didn’t like it, I just didn’t have any space! Overall, the experience was extremely disappointing although I did have fun people watching. The dude in a red dress was one of the top ten spots that day.

Anyway, here are the photos that I actually managed to take considering the conditions (i.e. too dark in the sheds and no room on the outside).

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