Last semester, I had the wonderful opportunity to participate in the study exchange programme with King’s College London (KCL), United Kingdom. The programme spanned 5 months, allowing me to take courses across different departments at KCL. It came as a surprise to me that it still took me a while to adjust to a new environment, despite this being my second time studying abroad.

I had the wonderful opportunity to embark on a Global Experience (GEx) study trip to Bandung and Yogyakarta, Indonesia, with a professor and fellow students from NUS College. The study trip spanned one month (half a month in each city) and comprised visits to houses and studios of prominent local artists, hikes to notable landmarks of the areas, a street art biking tour, student consultations, and student-initiated trips. I was attracted to this study trip by the theme of creative city development. I have always been fascinated by the arts and the question of how we can use the arts to address the social problems in the city. That is a question that has intrigued me for a very long time, long before the trip. Whenever I read a book or observed a painting, I have always wondered if the arts can be more than a medium for self-expression. What if the arts were used as a form of non-verbal language to discuss and dissect social problems?

All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms; And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lin’d, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper’d pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well sav’d, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion; Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.