Off to Hokkaido, a place I often fantasize and romanticize

While I am writing this, it is already 4am in the morning. At 11:30am, I will be flying off to Sapporo in Hokkaido for the Japanese premiere of LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER in Sapporo Short Fest.

This mysterious pile of CDs I have been going through...

Been writing the past few nights. I cannot stand the silence, therefore I always need to be accompanied by music.

I have a rather extensive playlist on my iPhone, but for the sake of not getting distracted, I usually chuck my phone aside whenever I go somewhere else for a writing session.

Which means that I was left with the music that I have in my computer. Sadly, they are not as extensive. After a few nights of listening to just the Cocteau Twins, I needed some alternatives.

Last night, I decided to go through the pile of CDs I have accumulated in the past four years since I came to Tokyo.

On Borges, Eco, Calvino, Marquez... and McDull

I never forgave my secondary school for banning us from bringing novels to school. That is why I constantly speak about it.

Back then, unable to accept such a rule, I occasionally brought a book to school for some reading pleasure. Alas, the school prefects deemed me, a guy who was just sitting at the corner, quietly reading a book, a threat to school safety, thus my books were sometimes confiscated.

I had to write eloquent letters to the prefects just so I could get them back.

That is why, in some of my angry rants over the years, I couldn't stop blaming the local education system for not emphasizing the importance of literature and culture to its students, that we lived merely to score well academically, that our education was more on learning how to deal with exams, instead of preparing us properly to contribute to society. That our country is full of highly-educated folks who don't give a crap about literature.

Many years ago, back in Perth, Justin (who used to contribute to this blog but had since became a published novelist himself) once said this:

"I cannot imagine anyone not picking up a novel in their entire life. What sort of existence is that?"

I shrugged. "A typical Malaysian."

Being in love with literature is just as lonely as being passionate about films. Or maybe a little more so. At least most Joe Blows do go to cinemas for films as some social exercise. Any attempt to have a meaningful or deep discussion about the film will be futile. People will look at me as if I had farted loudly in a funeral.

Because they rarely happen, being able to go into in-depth discussions about films, filmmakers, or literary works, authors, can be a very pleasurable experience. Perhaps that is why I am often on Facebook and Twitter. Or why I often surf film websites and go through the comments section. Just to find and read about discussions that I can never seem to have in real life.

(Perhaps if I were a banker, I wouldn't have to deal with such a dilemma, no?)

Yesterday, Maggie Lee, film critic of Variety, tweeted this link to a book review:

7 x 7. 49th day of my grandmother's passing. Remembering a dream.

I returned to Tokyo last night, on the eve of Malaysia's Independence Day.

55 years ago, my nation's fathers fought for liberation and attained it, through unity and faith. 31st of August, 1957.

I love my country. But I think, judging from the current political climate, there isn't much for me to celebrate.

Aside from being Malaysia's 55th Independence Day, 31st of August, 2012 is also the 49th day of my grandmother's passing, or the 7 x 7. For Buddhist customs, 1x7 (the first week), 3x7 (the third week), 5x7 and finally, 7x7, are marked by a short praying ceremony.

I was around for both the first week and the fifth week.

On the 5th week (5x7), a ritual was held to put her plaque on the walls of a temple.

My homage to Chris Marker - FLEETING IMAGES (2008)

The great filmmaker Chris Marker passed away two weeks ago at the age of 91.

1-minute extract of my short, LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER

The folks at the Sapporo Short Film Fest have posted a 1-minute extract of my short film LAST FRAGMENTS OF WINTER on Youtube. The film is making its Japanese premiere at the festival next month, followed closely by screenings at the Nara International Film Festival a few days later. I'm pretty excited to have my film finally shown to the Japanese public.

The old TVB dramas were really quite awesome

"Wouldn't it be cool if you were to direct a TVB drama series?"

Mom and Dad were on the newspapers

In the past month, both my mom and my dad were featured on the papers.

Grandmother's Funeral

(My dear grandmother had just passed away. Since then, I received many kind messages from friends around the world expressing their condolences, they have my utmost gratitude. The next few posts in this blog will be about my grandma. Because I needed to remember.)

A photo trip through memory lane with my Grandmother.

Letters to my Grandmother

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A week has passed since Grandma died. I have shared with you my memories of her, and also the letters that we have written to her before her funeral, now I try to chronicle the funeral itself.

On the two nights before the funeral, she was placed to rest in the house that she had lived in for nearly 20 years, so that friends and family could come and pay their last respects.

Letters to my Grandmother

(My dear grandmother had just passed away. Since then, I received many kind messages from friends around the world expressing their condolences, they have my utmost gratitude. The next few posts in this blog will be about my grandma. Because I needed to remember. Here's a photo trip through memory lane with my Grandmother.)

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On the day before her funeral, my cousins and I decided to each write a letter to Grandmother and paste it on the wall next to her casket.

A photo trip through memory lane with my grandmother

(My dear grandmother had just passed away. Since then, I received many kind messages from friends around the world expressing their condolences, they have my utmost gratitude. The next few posts in this blog will be about my grandma. Because I needed to remember.)

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On the night of 14th July, 2012, my Po Po, maternal grandmother, passed away peacefully in her house. She would have turned 80 this October. All 28 years of my life, she was the only grandparent I knew.

She is survived by nine children, twenty-two grandchildren, one great-grandchild (with one more on the way), two godchildren and six god-grandsons.