Dear Ex-Wife

Dear Husband:

I’m writing you this letter to tell you that I’m leaving you for good.

I’ve been a good woman to you for seven years and I have nothing to show for it. These last two weeks have been hell. Your boss called to tell me that you had quit your job today and that was the last straw.

Last week, you came home and didn’t notice that I had gotten my hair and nails done, cooked your favorite meal and even wore a brand new negligee. You came home and ate in two minutes, and went straight to sleep after watching the game. You don’t tell me you love me anymore; you don’t touch me or anything. Either you’re cheating or you don’t love me anymore, what ever the case is, I’m gone.

P.S. If you’re trying to find me, don’t. Your BROTHER and I are moving away to West Virginia together! Have a great life!

Signed: Your EX-Wife

Dear Ex-Wife:

Nothing has made my day more than receiving your letter. It’s true that you and I have been married for seven years, although a good woman is a far cry from what you’ve been. I watch sports so much to try to drown out your constant nagging. Too bad that doesn’t work.

I did notice when you cut off all of your hair last week, the first thing that came to mind was “You look just like a man!” My mother raised me to not say anything if you can’t say anything nice. When you cooked my favorite meal, you must have gotten me confused with MY BROTHER, because I stopped eating pork seven years ago. I went to sleep on you when you had on that new negligee because the price tag was still on it. I prayed that it was a coincidence that my brother had just borrowed fifty dollars from me that morning and your negligee was $49.99.

After all of this, I still loved you and felt that we could work it out. So when I discovered that I had hit the lotto for ten million dollars, I quit my job and bought us two tickets to Jamaica. But when I got home you were gone.

Everything happens for a reason I guess. I hope you have the fulfilling life you always wanted. My lawyer said with your letter that you wrote you won’t get a dime from me. So take care.

P.S. I don’t know if I ever told you this but Carl, my brother, was born Carla. I hope that’s not a problem.

Signed Rich As Hell and Free!

(Author Unknown)

Tad Too Late?

Malaysians are usually a tad too late warming up to world trends, but when we do, we are often hasty, when beamed with pockets of success stories of others, never considering the longer term effects it may have over the whole ecology. As we commute our excitement, we subconsciously fell in line and became the follower of trends, never for once the setter. At the other end of the scale, we would often be left with the final few grains on our palms where others have grazed, after they have moved on to greener pastures. Such is us.

Our national gallery is not at its infancy. But oftentimes, I wonder if there is indeed a national narrative to begin with or that we have spiralled down strutting in a ring filled with the shallow opinions of horse traders, zealots, lobbyists, backdoor experts and money driven leeches; if you could consider them as loyal fans to begin with. Are these the personalities the colourful bedrock upon which we shape our vision? How do our agencies define the limits of their involvement and how far have they gone in pushing the boundaries of our identity?

Our neighbouring compatriots have gone milestones ahead of us, curating not only interesting visual exhibitions but visitor experiences, and have undertaken membership recruitment drives, patron-ship galas, admission packages for groups and families, even enticing members to be gallery sitters. So how can ours still be thriving on a makeshift cafeteria and a minuscule museum shop none thought it important to rife up its setting and contents? Aren’t our agencies aware that the sale of mementos, publications and monograms assist in the sustenance of the gallery not forgetting the promoting and disseminating of our art history and exhibitions to the world? Hell even Penang State Art Gallery has a better museum shop and painting adoption plans! So what can we take pride in, when we are allotted acquisition funds for artworks that stays hidden yet in the few years leading to the pandemic, we were letting out precious spaces for non art-related corporate use? How much truism is there on our visitor head counts then?

Technically, the training of younger artists to become entrepreneurs should be left to business schools when really, the job focus of artists is to make good art because saleability depends on the quality of art each produces. The business aspects of promoting, writing, cataloging, records and recognition, and client sustainability drains time and traditionally been overcome by galleries and auction houses who also by the way, functions as quality controllers. Thus, I am pondering if our national gallery fully understands the intricacies of art management when the importance of proving exhibition history, proving existence, proving fair market pricing, proving purchase and proving its provenance required for art pieces sold in the secondary platform is left out, and that no one artist can qualify or attest himself in such matters.

It may sound like a tall order to some but what seems to be extraordinary to us is common practice for all other reputed national galleries and public museums worldwide. Most of their policy makers have articulated cross border broadening of knowledge and art appreciation throughout their respective countries, which cuts across every culture, aspect and time, eventually expounding a common camaraderie to the masses ready to unite differing values through art. That is how a national narrative is formed. And these could only happen through field studies, mapping, and open engagements with stakeholders beit inside forums, symposiums, or art talks. It would be interesting to invite high profile curators and celebrated luminaries to engage in critical discourses and at the same time, to get them to speak about their current projects and ways of slashing and weaving through mazes and red tapes. That way, we can tap into their ideas, compromise our standard operating process, sell our unique locations and at the same time, make them our catalyst, driver and mouthpiece. Even Marina Abrahmovic stood for Bangkok Art Biennale once! Again, how do we define let alone redefine and push the limits beyond the boundaries of our identity to make it happen?

Have our national gallery ever expanded it’s role by mobilising our collections abroad, since we have been receptively permitting in-bound print shows ala Caravaggio? And when then can we afford to give our visitors a full fledge permanent timeline experience and awareness of our art history that could only happen with a permanent gallery space, so that visitors could devote their time and energy helping us to grow, at the same time becoming our catalyst, driver and mouthpiece? What more, are we prepared to forgo unkempt security guards whose youngs runs around the gallery grounds and partakes in food receptions meant for guests? When would the whole podium not forgetting the prominent spiral staircase become potential display areas and when are we getting rid of the bathroom feel of the entrance lobby?

Plain and simple, our national gallery needed urgent institutional reforms. To begin with, we need first class infrastructure revamp and a reconfiguration of its space and flow. Then hopefully, the rest will fall into place. If our desire is the world stage of course. We needed well exposed and well connected people from different fraternities who live and breathe art day and night to helm it. We can’t have a gold medallist diving expert to be in charge of a football team unless they are willing to learn. Art is serious business and a major catalyst towards growing tourism trends in metropolitan cities. So make us proud!

Elsewhere in our country , our provincial galleries may be modest in infrastructure, but certainly not provincial in ideas. They make do with the littlest of resource and budget yet they managed to deliver their very best. And the key to their success? A selfless, committed, forward thinking, liberal-minded committee who doesn’t promote self-censorship out of fear of losing their jobs. There are benefits in organising gargantuan exhibitions and endorsing artistic freedom. It begets us free publicity worldwide and regional recognition as a formidable player. This all translates to tourist dollars.

Looking inward, we should be receptive enough to acknowledge that every town and city in our country has its own cultural identity and preference of artists which makes each of them different, unique and interesting and with that, sprouts its own conversations and engagement. So why not then, a new language and narrative, if other towns and cities can manage and deliver never mind from where the art scene started first? It is not entirely wrong if there co-exist divergent parallel narratives, since our country is unique. Even Mercedes Benz automobiles has different classes and models.

Since the Nanyang days, Penang has been the preferred platform from whence our national art scene sprang. I singled out Penang because It’s topography had been conducive enough to attract international artists to nest and work. So how then, one wonders, does budding artists become stifled and sidetracked when artists like Ernest Zacharevic and Latiff Mohidin (both not Penangites ) has persevered and made it this far? Perhaps yet another ill informed opinion maybe? Nuf said for now.

Turn Your Gaze Towards The Sky

“God speaks to us through nature. How else can he reveal himself, his love, his glory, his might, his wonders or unleash his fury if not through appeasing your doubt of his existence with the burning bush, the opening of the Red Sea, Noah’s flood, the flattening of Sodom and Gomorrah, the lightning that transforms Saul, freak storms, landslides, and tsunami. And if we can’t read these signs and wonders occurring in our midst, that only makes our weekly devotion hogging inside places of worship, a routine joke.

Indeed, we humans are dumb. For not being able to calibrate and process these subtle warnings that flashes between our eyes, and dumber indeed, than the government we voted in. For truly, who amongst us would elect candidates that insults our grey cells, when capitalism educates us to select candidates with heavyweight credentials to represent us? That said, when we feel cheated by these entrusted individuals, maybe we should question ourselves why we could be swayed by educational credentials and eloquence than to stick with the meek and humble selfless individuals?

As humans, we are all endowed with amazing sensory organs that allows us to mind read others, the ability to judge and to feel. Those are the sensors that triggers our haunch and intuition. And if our haunch and intuition tells us to chuck candidates with questionable intellect, how so did they survive? Are we missing something in our judgement that the majority wouldn’t agree with?

Admit it. Most of us are too self engrossed to do good for our community. We feel entitled to guard our own interest but not those beyond our four walls, and went with the flow even when we know our laws are outdated, therefore the abuse. As burdens to society we are, we leave it to selfless souls to care and manage our environment, and run our society, while we prefer to spend time watering our own garden. We chose to be ringside spectators, but spends our waking hours mingling with strangers on the social media to ply our trade, boost our noticeability, and enrich our pockets, hoping to gain traction with famous personalities as well as sending amorous private messages. We then transforms into disgruntled Frankensteins when we see mismanagement, and our economy nosedives. What kind of an idiot are we?

By our habitual actions and inactions, we have created our own brand of shit and disgust, and made the shits of others pliable. Has it ever occurred to us that bullshits like this doesn’t just happen overnight? So please go plug the source and nip the problem in the bud. Swallow the pride and shits we personally nurture before our ground turns into solid waste foundation. For God is real. And his tantrums has turned into wrath’s. Look around us. Little ‘Acts of God’ is now manifesting. Be more selfless and understand his disgust. Then turn your gaze towards the sky, as Emperor Constantin 1 did. If God did not abandon you, so should you not abandon his creation to see it rot. Indeed, God speaks to us through nature. So should you help protect it and not play dumb. Help protect our country and Fark this present government off.”

Chinese Observances

“In the old days, the Southeast Asian migrant Chinese were inundated with many beliefs. Beliefs that’ll bring them luck, prosperity and happiness. With beliefs, sprang the many superstitions observed. More so when affirmations were rhymed into ditties and sayings that tickles the fancy of the larger crowd. For those who doesn’t attend schools, these ditties acted as guides in the school of life, for they held many truths. Whereas others, especially when related to food, sounds more like marketing 101.

The Chinese of Southeast Asia practices a strange mix of religion which falls into a larger cauldron they identify as Buddhism, which again lives below an infinite space known as the Sky God, or ‘Thni Kong”. Though many are now baptised, Buddhism was and still is, the supreme god to these believers, Taoism and it’s many practices and deities, as the guide to rites and rituals to attain Nirvana, and Confucianism, as their gospel to communal living.

Especially during auspicious occasions, birth, marriage, full moon, or new year, these curious concoction of three-in-one cocktail comes into play. Elements that does not conform to their practices were silently removed, and others desecrated with red paper. Even food was not spared.

On the table during reunion dinner, which is usually held during the eve to usher in the first day of Chinese New Year (or the coming of Spring), all kinds of meats, vegetables and condiments is a must. That to the Chinese signifies abundance as it harnesses positive energy. (For as long as you can tolerate the tediousness that goes into it’s preparation.) Before the clock struck midnight, one would have assumed that their abode has been spring-cleaned and decorated with auspicious objects, including their cars and compound, and elements that suggest bad luck or ‘suay’ are hidden inside storerooms, especially brooms and sharp objects including kitchen knives, never to be seen till the 15 days of Chinese New Year ends. This covers plants with leaves that shapes like daggers as well. And they even have preferred colours. Red sits on top of the list, followed by yellow.

Throughout Chinese New Year, the sounds of fire crackers are heard, in the belief that the noise would ward off evil spirits. Charity is encouraged, sworn words refrained, new clothes worn, animosity discouraged, sweets served, and the most menial of work especially the sweeping of homes, were halted. Such are the ways of the Chinese.

Throughout history, these observations became habitual and that in turn manifest as traditions attached to their beliefs. To identify one as a Chinese is to observe these traditions and beliefs which are related to Buddhism. As they serve themselves with a wide array of food and dishes, so too did they bedeck the altars of their Gods with abundance, with a few exceptions or add ons. Prayers, paper effigies, and joss sticks, as the intermediary or points of transfer between heaven and earth. All for the sake of prosperity, luck and happiness.

But how many of these believers actually attain prosperity, happiness and blessed with good luck throughout the year, one ponders? Can we be certain that in a famine stricken country, and the many whose cars succumbed the flood, families who were forced to bunk inside stadiums because their apartments caved in, and every passenger inside a plane that crashes, lax observances?”