acts&tricks

Jobless no more!

2012-03-02T17:57:00.001+08:00

Senior Writer.

Try saying that with a wide smile and a dreamy gaze in the eyes. That's how I say it.

*smiles dreamily* Senior Writer.

I'm back to doing something that I've always enjoyed (and hopefully prove to have a talent for). I'm writing for architecture, design and interior magazines. I used to work part-time as an Editorial Assistant for Blueprint Asia way back when I was taking my M.A. This time around, I'm working full time as a Senior Writer for 2 magazines!

It's not so strenuous, I hope, since both of the magazines aren't monthly issues. Home Concepts is bi-monthly whereas SPACE is issued quarterly.

:)

I'm just thoroughly happy that I get to do what I love to do.

*adjusts imaginary Architecture Nerd glasses because I'm actually wearing contact lenses*

I see you everywhere.

2012-02-27T15:42:00.001+08:00

I think, for most of us, what we find attractive is really a sort of familiarity because it evokes fond memories of peaceful times. Also, familiarity is a consistency and consistency shows stability. We are attracted to familiar faces because, in love, we crave nothing more than stability.

But we didn’t stop to think if it’ll hurt to see the faces that remind us of the ones that didn’t work out.

Sunday Breakfast Club

2012-02-14T17:21:00.003+08:00

I've had the best childhood because of my neighbours. Somehow, especially after high school and entering uni, we drifted apart, which is strange seeing that we literally live in a row and only a fence away from the next house.

Have to thank twitter, though. Setting up a breakfast get-together got even easier because of instant updates. We should do this more often. :)

Here are yours truly, my sister Afi, Kak Ima, Nayya and Shahida. Kak Tisha was supposed to join us but she hit the snooze button. :(

Photos stolen from Kak Ima's facebook album. ;)

First work!

2012-02-13T03:13:00.000+08:00

This was commissioned by a friend.

"Untitled" on A2, pen and ink on paper.

I had great fun making this.

I have nothing but gratitude, love and respect for you, regardless of your past, present or future. Thank you for your endless support and thank you for always being there for me.

This is for the 10 years we’ve known each other.

Give it up.

2012-02-08T02:48:00.002+08:00

I'm so sorry.
I'm so so sorry.

But maybe. Quite possibly.
I am supposed to give up on waiting for something that's never promised for me.

I've been crying at intervals for the past couple of days. I'm trying to come to terms. There are people fated to be found and there are people fated to be alone. The strength is leaving me. I have more reasons to stop believing in a love out there for me. I'm 27 years old and all the relationships I had never lasted longer than a year and I had to change myself, sometimes entirely, to fit another person's ideal. I am always the one to make the first moves. I detected their desires and I changed accordingly and lived a lie, knowing deep inside that one day they'd leave me.

So what gives me the right to believe that there is someone out there who'd love and accept me entirely when that has never happened in my whole life?

What gives me the right to believe that I deserve to be loved?

Stupid girl.

Stop being so stupid.

Give up already. Give up and move on.

Logo Design for a client.

2012-02-06T13:16:00.000+08:00

These are the first 3 proposals I came up with for a client's new brand.

I like to ask the client for their own choice of objects or concept before getting inspired and coming up with something that meets their criteria with my style and touches.

So mean.

2012-02-06T13:03:00.000+08:00

I get it but you don't have to be so mean.
They don't have to be people who are close to me.
They can be strangers.

You know that little match-girl story? I am that girl and you are every single match I light up to get some warmth from. But in your light, you dream of something far far better than me.

I get it and you don't have to be so mean.

After the Pre-Marriage Course.

2012-01-30T03:18:00.001+08:00

I attended a pre-marriage course this weekend in TTDI. I'm not getting married any time soon (I think) because I was there to accompany my friend. Her fiancé has already attended the course so I, as usual, am the chosen one to accompany someone's fiancée or wife. (Seriously, leave your girlfriend, fiancée or wife to me and don't worry. I make sure she has a good time without another man. *wriggle eyebrows* I can get testimonials.)

I don't have to gab about what the talks in this course is all about. Go take it yourself. The certificate lasts for a lifetime, although I'm pretty sure a woman kinda has her "expiry date". God knows. :P

But this is what I learned about the young Malay Muslim couples (soon to be young newly-weds):

1 ) Most guys' reason for marriage is to "menghalalkan yang haram dan mendapat kepuasan". And oh how excitedly they admit this.

2) Most girls know the price of gold per 100g. And they want Prada. And SKII.

3) Most couples were shocked to learn that the cost for marriage is roughly RM30000 above.

4) Most guys think it's exciting when the ustaz / ustazah talk about polygamy... and they're not even married yet to the fiancées they accompany to the course.

5) Most girls don't even know that your husbands demands and words are rules and the biggest sin is to go against his wishes. And yes, oral sex must be done to satisfy your husband if you're having your menses.

So in conclusion, most couples don't even realise how big a step they're taking in life AND the hereafter. We Muslims don't say "till death do us part". No. Marriage is a bond that transcends death.

Marry the one you want to enter Jannah with, not the one you want to enter the bedroom with.

Strange.

2012-01-26T04:34:00.001+08:00

It is strange how the only one who has never given up on me is that one person I never got to have. It is strange how the only one who came to rescue me is the one who've broken my heart the most in the past. It is strange how the only one who thinks I'd make a great wife is the one who is not in love with me.

It is strange how I feel more loved and cared for by this person than by any of those who has ever said those "I love you"s and "I will marry you"s to me.

The absence of promises and lies. The baring of souls between two people who has no secrets left to keep from each other. I think we must've gone through all kinds of deal-breakers in our friendship but no dent is made.

Strange how we can say we know each other so well , yet we know so little of each other's lives. We've never spoken to each other of our families, or our past loves in detail, or our childhood memories.

If by any chance he might stumble upon this and read and recognise himself in these words, I have always had a soft spot for you ever since we first met. I don't know why. I tried not to but it's fated that our paths cross ever so often, we pick up things as if there were no time between our last.

Whatever happens in our future, you know I'll always have your back and I know you're never far away. You are a friend that I care deeply for.

Murmurs turn to beats.

2012-01-15T03:59:00.001+08:00

I was born with heart murmurs caused by aortic regurgitation. This was how my heart sounded like. I went through heart surgery at the age of 6 and it's fixed.

Aortic regurgitation means that the pumped blood leaks back into the heart and, in time, the heart grows larger so that it can pump out more blood. According to the doctors, I could've died of big-heartedness by the age of 12. Symptoms are fatigue and weakness, almost life-threatening.

I was born with a defected aortic valve and the only reason the doctors found this out was because I defecated in during labour. That is a distress signal from the baby.

I like to tell people I was "born with a broken heart" and I "went through a lot of shit" to get to live till today.

Alhamdulillah, I have always been a survivor. :)

30 Day Drawing Challenge - Day 3

2012-01-12T00:55:00.004+08:00

My favourite food is petai. Sambal petai ke. Petai celor ke. Fresh petai ke. Couple with budu ke. With tempoyak ke.

Petai is perfection even in its smelliness.

30 Day Drawing Challenge - Day 2

2012-01-11T19:58:00.003+08:00

My favourite animal.

If you ask this animal what's my favourite band, you'll get the answer.

30 Day Drawing Challenge - Day 1

2012-01-10T01:17:00.001+08:00

I decided to do this 30 Day Drawing Challenge. Let's hope I'm disciplined enough to finish this.

This is Day 1.

I love the moon. I love lines. I dress in basic colours. I wear the hijab. I am trying to reach for the impossible. Or improbable.

Motions and Rest

2012-01-08T05:15:00.001+08:00

What I want to do most of the time is drive slowly through quietened cities at ungodly hours with a playlist that makes me want to glide down endless roads. See how the buildings give out a more subdued urban feel, the kind of feeling you get when a paternal figure sings a lullaby in soft tones and deep voice and you can read the protectiveness beneath the strength. The lights, harshly reflected on passing cars, are shy observers that wait for me to go by without a thank you but I can't imagine the city without its yellow-washed midnight glamour.

And someone to sit beside me, static and loyal and familiar, as we move through the emptiness as if we own every single corner of the city. The past, the present, the future, all tossed into this mix of motions and rest.

A love like that. A love like a mix of motions and rest where we are in constant play of gestures and words and situations yet we find, subliminally, the rest we most desperately need within each other. A love like that. I should hope to have.

Oh what have I been up to now...

2012-01-06T20:34:00.000+08:00

Beanies!
I crocheted a puff-stitch slouchy beanie in pink and it looks cute!

My mum bought 2 prints from me to give away as wedding gifts. I had to frame them up nicely. The added borders costed me a lot. -__- But I really like how it brings out the lines and colours.

And I made some name-cards. :)

I love my hobbies.

Concrete Love.

2012-01-06T04:06:00.001+08:00

I swear I am totally in love with PJ Trade Centre. Yes, the building. Every time I drive past it, I feel like a school girl walking past her crush's classroom. Honestly, I did not expect to love the building this much. Most buildings that impress me on magazine spreads disappoint me in real life.

For instance, Lasalle College of The Arts in Singapore. There was a time where every local or Asian architecture magazine gushed over how beautiful the building is and videos kept popping up with the building as a setting. I couldn't wait to see the building in real life.

Unfortunately, it did not take my breath away. In my opinion, it felt very much like walking through a blown up conceptual model by an architecture student, placed in a space because there happened to be a space.

That did not happen when I visited PJ Trade Centre for the first time. I love the contrast of materials. I love the joints. I love the colours. I love the transparency of its walls. I love the language it speaks.

My students thought I was crazy as I smiled lovingly at the concrete walls and ran my hands over the fair-faced exposed brick walls.

By the way, I stole these photos from their official website.

I can't wait to go there to pay my taxes.

(Oh the smartest subliminal tyranny our government probably unintentionally carried out.)

My granny hobbies consume me.

2012-01-02T19:06:00.000+08:00

I have granny hobbies. Yup. I love knitting and crocheting.

Knitted soft wool skinny scarf - RM100

Crocheted slouchy beanie - RM10

Crocheted Red + Black pouch - RM30

Crocheted Black + Red pouch - RM30

Crocheted White + Blue pouch -RM30

Crocheted Blue + White pouch - RM30

All these are available items. Email me if interested : xeem.noor@gmail.com or leave a comment.

The calendars are printed!

2011-12-29T19:05:00.003+08:00

The calendars are printed on ivory textured paper 220gsm. You can hang them up on the wall like how I did or paste them or pin them or however you can think of. :D

You can order them for RM60 a set (free postage in Peninsular Malaysia) by sending me an email here : xeem.noor@gmail.com

Let's take a walk through the corridors with music.

2011-12-26T18:40:00.000+08:00

Calling architecture enthusiasts and appreciators.

I have this idea. Let's choose a building and each have a set of songs / playlist to listen to while we 'experience' the building. I bet the music would influence the paths we choose, the views we notice and the details we admire. Write or sketch the observations made while still influenced by the music.

"Add the present influences of space & music to the past influences of background & lifestyle. Subjectivity in architectural appreciation." I tweeted just now.

It would be an interesting project, won't it? Documenting how differences in immediate influences and subconscious influences shape our perception. :)

So who's interested?

Desperation bordering on depression.

2011-12-26T04:38:00.001+08:00

I can't sleep. Maybe it's a mild panic attack, I'm not sure. My heart is racing and all I can think of are how my future seem so blank and how I haven't achieved much in the past. And how I am pathetically stuck in the present, powerless and hopeless.

I think it's sinful to be this pitiful. It must be. This is all close to whining about life and fate. But really, who else is to be blamed but me?

I can't undo my past mistakes -- my wrong tactics, my failed strategies -- and all I can do is just shut up and listen to everybody pointing it out again and again to me. What am I supposed to say? Nothing. It's not like I don't know how I've failed and why I'm failing. And it's not like I can change what I did in the past. But that doesn't stop the voices of blame and it hurts even more when it comes from the people I depend on supporting me. I feel like I've failed as a daughter, as a sister, as a friend.

People always remind each other that their future is their own, be yourself, do what you want. It's not that easy. You have no idea how many people are affected by your decisions in life, how high their expectations of you are and how closely they observe your every step. At times, while you take your steps, you feel incredibly alone but once you reach a point -- of failure or of success -- the observers ambush you with their reaction -- of chastisement or of pride. But your journey is your own.

I am in desperation bordering on depression but I must be strong and do whatever I can within my power. There are some wrongs you cannot right -- this year has taught me that again and again -- and you have no choice but to trudge on and persevere.

My mother keeps pointing out that my mistake is for not sticking to one job for a long time. I know she's right. It shows my lack of commitment. I can't undo that. I can't defend myself about that. And I admit I am suffering the consequences but that should not stop me from sending out my resume like a cry for help right?

Currently, I have 30 active applications on job sites, 10 emails sent to magazines and an application to a PhD fellowship in Amsterdam. I will be sending out applications to more universities and jobs. This is all I can do within my power. This and pray and leave it to God.

Tawakal.

Colours and Lines.

2011-12-22T20:00:00.003+08:00

I'm open for commission works right now.

Need a gift for a special someone (or even not so special someones)? Your wall looking bare and lonely without some colours and lines? Want some touch of illustration on your products?

Drop me an email at xeem.noor@gmail.com with your requirements and let's do business. ;)

Here's a WIP (work in progress) of a personally commissioned piece. (And my favourite pens inter-framing.)

Buy these ladies!

2011-12-22T13:00:00.000+08:00

I'm selling these original drawings sized 125mm by 125mm on 220gsm paper for RM20 each. Drop a comment or email me at xeem.noor@gmail.com if interested. :D

Or check out my facebook page - Xeem Noor Art

Capricorn

Aquarius

Pisces

Aries

Taurus

Gemini

Cancer

Leo

Virgo

Libra

Scorpio *SOLD*

Sagittarius

Hajat

2011-12-20T02:57:00.001+08:00

"May I, can I, or have I too often now craving miracles?"

Sometimes I think I am asking for something unattainable. All I can hope for is to deserve whatever comes.

Promises.

2011-12-16T19:46:00.003+08:00

It's that time of the year again. The end. And the imminent beginning of a new one. It's time for us to start making promises to ourselves. (And feel rotten for not keeping the ones we made earlier this year.)

I've never made new year resolutions but since 2011 proved to be such a blow to my confidence and self-esteem, I think goals need to be set to make sure I am back on track and progressing gracefully. Here are my 2012 resolutions.

Be nicer, be smarter, be stronger, be prettier.

I can get carried away saying spiteful things about people. Sometimes I make the worse assumptions out of something so small. I'm also very temperamental and I need to curb my anger better.

I think I've neglected gaining knowledge ever since I got my dreams shot down by an academician I used to look up to. He turned out to be a sort of academic egomaniac who'd only entertain those with the potential to be his puppets. My research goal did not fit his idea of academic progress and so he shot it down and refused to be open about it. It really got to my confidence. I felt like my dream is too big and nobody is there to support my climb.

And then a mistake of a relationship happened right when I was distraught and worried about my dreams and future. I let go of my passion for knowledge. I let go of my believes. I did not think straight. I think I refused to think much and just feel, which is stupid and weak. Never again.

Also, don't let somebody use your physical insecurities to play with your heart and mind. I'm done with feeling ugly and shabby and fat.

At least 20 non-fiction books must be consumed.

Unfortunately, I am very slow at reading non-fictions. That is not good. Reading books other than fiction will help me be smarter.

Tawbah, Tawakal, Sabar. Repeat daily.

Repent all the time, trust Him all the time and face everything that comes my way with more grace. Talk to Him all the time. And be more patient.

Write something daily. Draw something daily.

I need to write at least a paragraph daily, be it in this blog or in a journal. I do not want to lose my writing skill. It could be about anything. Just write.

And draw or doodle. Keep drawing because I love lines and colours, pens and papers. Do it because you need to always give attention to what you love, right?

So here's hoping I keep promises to myself and insyaAllah. :)

Don't use the Quran as your weapon.

2011-12-12T02:27:00.001+08:00

الْخَبِيثَاتُ لِلْخَبِيثِينَ وَالْخَبِيثُونَ لِلْخَبِيثَاتِ وَالطَّيِّبَاتُ لِلطَّيِّبِينَ وَالطَّيِّبُونَ لِلطَّيِّبَاتِ أُولَئِكَ مُبَرَّءُونَ مِمَّا يَقُولُونَ لَهُمْ مَغْفِرَةٌ وَرِزْقٌ كَرِيمٌ

"Women impure are for men impure, and men impure for women impure and women of purity are for men of purity, and men of purity are for women of purity: these are not affected by what people say: for them there is forgiveness, and a provision honourable." Quran (24:26)

People tend to quote the ayat up till "for women of purity" and follow up their "quotation" with some judgemental statement about how some 2 people deserve each other. The main point of this ayat, I feel, is really the second part. It is about repentance and we are all in His Mercy.

So really. Who are we to judge? Stop speculating on others. If you can't love them, love Him.

Trust in me.

2011-12-09T04:26:00.001+08:00

I have trust issues. It stems from failed relationships, dating men who took advantage of my insecurities. People advise me to find a nice guy. How can you tell if somebody is nice?

A religious background does not guarantee you that. At times, it just guarantees a male-chauvinist's point of view in life.

Nice words are obviously overrated. They are poisonous weapons of destruction.

Nice gestures? Oh if a person can lie with words, it is much easier to be quiet and move with deceit.

Maybe it's not about trusting him. Maybe it's all about trusting yourself.

There is nothing wrong about knowing who you want, what you want. There is nothing wrong with choosing because you know exactly what you want. It just means you trust yourself fully.

At the end of the day, while he sleeps and dream a separate world from you, you are left to your own thoughts and judgement. Do not ignore your own voice, the voice that tells you "He's the one!" or (unfortunately with truth) "What if you're just settling with this one?" Do not ignore that voice because, trust me, it will still be there the next night.

God gives you the ability to love and fate is in His hands. It is just logical to leave love in his Hands as well. The turmoil and doubt you feel when you are in love is a sign to start speaking to Him. Trust in Him. Trust in yourself. Trust in me.

Why I Am Single At The Age of 27.

2011-12-06T22:55:00.001+08:00

I'm actually vain enough to think I'm pretty in some eyes. No, I'm actually pretty enough to be called pretty by some guys. (Thank you.) But why am I still single at the age of 27?

You might notice from my photo that I am a hijabi. (That's just a shorter term for someone who wears the hijab.) So I really don't know who invented the stereotype that all Malay girls who wear the hijab are a certain kind of girl. The kind who'd be docile and has a pliable personality. The kind that most Malay men would gladly take under their armpits and be made to follow their every whim. The kind that I am (obviously) not.

It irks me that for the 10 years I've worn my hijab, I've only attracted a certain kind of men. Malay men with Malay ideologies of what a good woman is supposed to be like.

Apparently having opinions are bad. It makes me controlling, even though all I did was voice my principles, not impose my ideas on them. I don't force them to follow my way of thinking, I only demand to be heard. But obviously to be heard means to be obeyed for these men. Funny. Psychologically, I'm pretty sure that just proves that they want me to obey and follow their ideologies. Kena hidung kau balik.

Apparently living in Damansara and being 'anak datuk' means I do not eat at mamak stall, I roll around with a driver, I shop at expensive branded outlets and I have never stepped into 'dunia orang biasa'. It also meant my kampung is not a kampung, I can't possibly know how to eat with my hands and, well, I basically epitomise the whole stereotype of an 'anak datuk' you see in shallow Malay movies or read in shallow Malay novels (written mostly by girls who have never been to Damansara or know any real 'anak datuk'.)

Whatever I say, it won't erase these preconceived ideas those stupid Malay men have of me. Yes. All of them are Malay. Only they are stubborn enough to still believe in their idea of who I am even after dating me for 3-6 months. Heck, they even try to change me, or hope that I'd change enough for them.

However, I'm not saying all men are like these bunch of idiots. No. Some are incredibly understanding and quick to gather that I am really just like any of their other girl friends but with hijab on. The hijab does not stop me from reading books, having interests, getting ideas or living a life. And being an 'anak datuk' does not stop me from loving budu and ulam, speaking fluent Kelantanese every time I go back to kampung (or just hanging out with my family at home) and frequenting mamaks where cute stray cats jump onto my lap knowingly.

I'm not unique and different. There are many girls like me. It just so happens that they don't wear the hijab or hang out in a very Malay clan right out of a shallow Malay movie.

I haven't answered the topic at hand. I think it's partially because of how my hijab and racial features attract the kind of guys I just described. It's also because I really don't like the kind of guys I attract. And most saddening is how the guys I am attracted to don't go for girls like me. Or they would if I'm not wearing a hijab.

No, my hijab is not the problem. People's perception are. The hijab is worn so that people will not judge from appearance but unfortunately they still do.

What I do to procrastinate on writing.

2011-12-03T12:42:00.001+08:00

I do some illustrations.

Like these from a calendar series I'm working on.

The Garden I Love.

2011-11-28T15:49:00.001+08:00

I wrote this a long time ago.

---

The colours turn to gray that evening, as the sun melts away beneaththe horizon. I miss the orange tinge it has upon my skin moments ago. I missthe smell of the grass while it was warm. I miss the birds calling to eachother to come home. I miss everything there is to miss when you have beenwaiting for the night.

I walk the short pier and try to see beneath the waters. Thisrippling mirror is so rightly creating an image of how I feel inside. Myturmoil is not too abrupt, just a subtle disturbance in my pleasant surface. Itake my time to savour my alone. I take my time to feel the wind making fun ofme, taunting me coldly. I take my time listening to the rustling of the treesas they whisper about my pathetic figure, low and alone, beneath their gaze. Itake my time to see the stars blink in blatant astonishment at my unfortunatestory.

And then they change their tune, ever so effortless, as if they’vebeen singing in the same note all the while. I hear them say my prayers for me.I hear them caress my heart as if their own babe is hurt. I hear them come nearto me, make me feel fine, make me feel whole, as if this gaping wound I carryso hidden beneath my smile is no longer bleeding but is a mere scar I tellstories about at night.

There is a sunken boat waiting by the river bank. There it staysuntil I feel it is safe to sit in the hole-ridden seat, take up its rotten oarand slowly make my way elsewhere. I am afraid of my journey. I am afraid of theunknown waters, unfriendly constellations and unfamiliar clouds. I breathe inthe wet air of this place I like to pretend is home.

The pier I stay on is a polite goodbye to my reluctant body. I lookacross at the garden. I see the dark heavy trees, saddened by grief. I see thefireflies peeping in and out of the vines, like light signals to a missingperson, calling them home. I see the brooding shadows that slowly envelopes theplace, a shadow containing memories of sunlit merriment, memories I don’tbelong to but wish I did.

I’ve walked that garden a short while ago. I tried to make theflowers grow, where the buds have withered away. I tried to push the branchesof the trees to strike a pose that is familiar, like a smile across a belovedface but they deny my touch. I caught those fireflies in my hands and reachedout to let them go again but they grew confused and scared and remained stillyet lit in my palms. I traced the name upon the tree in the heart of the gardenand wish it was mine. I traced the name as if I traced a scar and I feel afamiliar pain in my own heart, as if a kindred feeling is calling out.

The garden I love. The garden I have always rowed by again andagain, never brave enough to set foot upon, always circling the ones beside butnever entering this wonder. I’ve worn my boat down because of you. I’ve rottenmy dress as I stand in the waters, catching up courage to climb those coldstone steps to you. I’ve sunk my boat and left myself trapped on your pier.

I stand up and look past the river bank and see the boat. Maybetomorrow I’ll patch it up. Maybe, if she comes, I’ll leave as fast as I can rowaway. I can still remember how the grass stayed brown under my feet, theflowers did not smell sweet for my nose and the leaves crumbled under my touch.I know I don’t belong. I know I am not the one with the burning touch, thefingers that etched the name upon the heart-tree, the fingers that made thefireflies burn brighter or the flowers bloom prettier, or that let the brancheswave elegantly, or make the leaves whisper names.

But here I sit on the pier, let my legs dangle over the edge, myback to the garden, my sight on the horizon. I can’t leave yet. I won’t leavethis garden alone. Not as it pines quietly for the goddess that walked itspath. I will not let the trees die, although I will not be able to make it growstrong. I will not let the buds recede, although I will not be able to make thespring come. I will not let the fireflies stop their busy dance, although Iwill not be able to understand their movements.

I shall be the unwanted gardener in this untended beauty. I shallwait as it waits for the goddess that walked the path, the name that burned theheart, the voice that thrilled the flowers and the smile that lit the sky.

Until she comes, my love is the only tenderness I can offer.

The moon is up tonight. It is smiling at my braveness. I smile backat how wise he is. He shines on my boat, like a soft invitation to save myselffrom uncertainty, save myself from unwanted conditions. I sit and talk to themoon. I let him know his garden is in good hands until the sun rises again.Until the sun rises, I shall always be here on this pier, scarred but smiling,hopeful without magic.

So here I am in this gray world, waiting for the sunrise with themoon.

Of Life, Work and Play.

2011-11-24T18:13:00.001+08:00

I am unemployed. Still.

I am going to apply for M.Phil / PhD in Cultural and Historical Studies in Royal College of Art, UK. I just need to sit for another IELTS because the last one was a bit over a couple of years ago. I already have a research proposal ready. So there. Let's try to get an offer and then go find a scholarship/loan.

I have been procrastinating on some illustration work. Actually, I'm feeling uninspired of late. Or maybe just lazy. I still need to make 9 watercolour pieces for a calendar. And some proposals for my friend's wedding.

I am such a slow reader. I used to be able to finish a novel in a few days but now it's taking me a few weeks. This is terrible.

I am convinced I'm turning into a vegetable. Or a rock.

I need to set goals. Like to write a blog post a day. A doodle a day. A novel a week. And I need to learn to meet my goals.

(Woman, get to it!)

Avalanche of Ideas.

2011-11-20T04:30:00.001+08:00

I recently got ambushed by a group of story ideas, all twisted in their own sweet and creepy ways. I've written the synopses down but now I feel like writing proper short stories. Here are the breakdowns of the stories that visited me so far.

1. Nasi Lemak Mak
This story was really a result of brainstorming with my favourite married couple, Neem and Kawar. I think we were all drowsy and tired and hungry and somehow that was conducive to our creative flow. The story centres on a man who did not go through grief for his mother's passing yet he's showing signs of not letting go. He becomes obsessed with Nasi Lemak because it was his mother's famous dish. The story follows his journey throughout the country looking for compensations for Nasi Lemak. During his travel, he gets to observe and meet people who are also going through hardships and troubles but seem to be coping with it while being fully aware. He comes home changed, although not obviously. He finally finds the right balance between acceptance and appreciation, of letting go and retaining memories. I'm quite proud of how the ending turns out. *wink*

2. Susu Kotak
This is more of a short film / short story. It's a love story with a twist. A pair of childhood lovers got separated so young and long ago. The man finds the woman again 15 years later. They meet up and it is not to rekindle a fire like the woman hopes for but to give a final closure. There is a twist at the end that I think should be endearing and tragic for some people. I'll write this as a proper short story soon, I promise.

3. Jendela
I had this idea a couple of years ago. I woke up with a vivid dream about this. It starts off perfectly harmless but develops into a psycho-thriller. I had the idea of making a presentation of story through a series of photos. I won't spoil the story yet. This should be written down properly too. It involves a photo of a beautiful scene framed by a window in a stark white room, a curious woman and an artistic motive.

4. Project O.G.E.
Project O.G.E. stands for Project One Generation Entity. It is such a 'meta' idea, I can't help but get shivers the moment I thought this up clearly. It was actually inspired from a dream I had. Let me just tell you truthfully that I dreamed of Redza Minhat. Yes yes I'm a fan. *sheepish grin* Anyway, in my dream, he was writing a film and asking a bunch of people to help with his experimentation research. Anyway, it's a very long synopsis to write but let's just say it's about viral videos, film-making, propaganda, dystopia and meta. If this idea falls through, it would literally be a dream come true if Redza Minhat plays Uqbah Ahmad, the film-maker. *starry-eyed*

So yeah. Those were the ideas cluttering up my brain. Oh and the reason why I'm suddenly thinking up ideas for films is that an ex-university colleague of mine is looking for good film ideas. If you are interested in sending your stories to her, do drop a comment and I'll pass it on to her.

She also mentioned how there has been too many love stories and unfunny comedies given out as ideas for films and they are looking for something different to further help the film industries. Just make sure the stories won't require an extremely huge budget (like sci-fi with CGI or crazy settings and props).

Back to where it all began.

2011-11-17T05:23:00.001+08:00

I am currently trying to put together a writing portfolio. I miss writing about architecture, about art, about life. I miss being a writer, a capable one.

It is a skill that deteriorates with lack of practice, unfortunately. But perhaps it is something you can regain like a familiar tingle of a waking limb. InsyaAllah.

Hello, everyone. I am Xeem Noor and this is where I will try to write because it is a need and necessity in my life.