Blog

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.

On a silent night, alone in a dimly lit room. The thought of fatherly love hits me as I am trespassing upon the land of everything that life can become. What kind of a father will I be? I have never thought of becoming a father before. Whenever we are faced with a hypothetical question, we usually consult our imagination. I envision myself having a child of about 6 or 7 years old. We will walk the road to the park near our house, and sit by a lake to watch the sunset. We will have an ice cream together, laughing as we comment on the flavour we’ve just savoured. I feel a sense of warmth, and joy, and… disconnection? I squint my eyes, trying to dive deeper into the emotional landscape that the imagination provokes. And all I can feel, is a vast distance between me and the child. I cannot feel related to the child. What is the secret ingredient that allows a father to be telepathically connected to his child?

In Philosophy of Arts class, I have been taught two major schools of thought regarding interpretation of arts – hypothetical intentionalism (interpretation of arts is based on what is written in the text alongside other literature-relevant evidence such as the theme of the authors’ previous works) and modest actual intentionalism (interpretation of arts is based on what the author says they want to convey, but such has to be supported by what is written in the text). It seems to me that hypothetical intentionalism and modest actual intentionalism rely on textual evidence, alongside other literature-relevant evidence, to interpret a work of art. The extent to which each evidence plays in the interpretation of a work of art varies depending on the school of thought. I just wonder whether such an approach would do justice to the author, as language may not fully convey what the author wants to express. Let me clarify my point.

An alumnus asked me to meet him under the big oak tree, a landmark of my school. I arrived at the location fifteen minutes early. I sat there and watched as people were passing by me. I always love to spend time observing people and guessing what they are feeling – it allows me to connect with other people in some unknown ways. The alumnus arrived on time. We were taking a stroll around the area when the alumnus asked me to go check out the LGBTQ+ society with him. I rarely tell anyone about how I feel when people keep assuming that I like talking about girls and dating girls – it makes me a bit uncomfortable most of the time when the guys keep talking about dating girls with me. But I trusted the alumnus, and I shared with him. Actually, the alumnus had asked me to check out the society with him a long time ago. But I kept turning down the offer since I was very busy with my assignments and examinations. Now that the semester was over, I finally had time to go with him. To be honest, I had some reservations about the invitation at first, but it wouldn’t hurt to try, right? It would be a waste of time at worst – apparently, I would not be assassinated merely because I went to an event organised by the LGBTQ+ society.

The sky is a little bit grey from my window today. Is it a natural phenomenon, or a reflection of my sorrow? Grey is a diffusion of black and white, Ambivalent, yet commonplace. When I look out of my window, I wish I could be a bird, To fly across the sky, and be bereft of this ambiguity. Yet my heart gains weight as the thought approaches, Gain weight not of muscle, but of woe. Would the sky still look grey to me, when I were a bird?

Is Love irrational?

I meet a handsome boy, not without charisma. He tells me that he is hurt when people are treated unfairly. I am sure he will love the elitist ball, Where masquerade is appropriated. People tell me the eyes are the window to the soul, let's just assume they are right. I ponder. Does his masquerade cover his eyes? He speaks of equality, But does it contain humanity? Or is it masked by a silk of privileges, with its bloody history? Full of pride, he invited people to his masquerade party, Where equality is the dress-code. What do mortals see of the equality chased after by a deity?

Blue - King of Swords With rationality, you purge through the mist-of uncertainty. Weaving a sword, you snip off the knots you-cannot uncoil. You want to build a world out of pure reason. Little do you know, The world's on fire - yet - your wish's-unaltered. Have you ever wept for a withering flower?

If you look up at the sky (during day). Would you see light, Or will you be blinded?

Let us begin by summarising the movie. There lived a Polish-Jewish pianist in the midst of World War II. As Germany took over Poland, Jews were hunted down, and he was no exception. The movie unfolded with various scenes in which Jews were tortured, shot, flamed, and even bombed. The pianist met several people who helped him in hiding away from the Germans and fed him. He survived the Holocaust. But his survival provoked a rippling thought inside my head.

Let us begin by submitting ourselves to a quick thought experiment. Let’s try to think of someone who has the closest connection with us. What appears in our minds? What do we think of that person? Now, think of another one who usually study-dates with us. What appears in our minds? What do we think of that person? Now, try another person who usually hangs out and has fun with us. What appears in our minds? What do we think of that person?

"The Tale of Kieu" has been a very familiar literary work to not just the Vietnamese, but also to people around the world. But have we stopped to wonder what makes people so hyped about "The Tale of Kieu", or is it just overrated? Well, in school, we are taught a great deal about literary devices: metonymy, metaphor, foreshadowing, anastrophe, and here the list goes. But I would argue that "The Tale of Kieu" offers an avenue to the interpretation of the meaning of life. When I was discussing with my friends the motif of adventure tales and fairy tales, it struck me that "The Tale of Kieu" does not follow such a motif, which appears weird because most of the tales go with a happy-forever-after ending for people who lead a noble life. I will not summarise the plot of the story, as it can be found on the Internet, so please go read it if you want to be familiar with the topic.

Sometimes, it's better to just listen, not ask!

Well, I first knew of the event when the leader in Book Box TNH forwarded a link about the event. This year, due to the pandemic, this conference is held online and are open to students from all over the world, which is great because I do not need to travel to Australia in order to attend an offline conference. I had known of this for quite a long time, but I lingered and did not sign up, when I decided to sign up, it was just three days left. And payment had to be made, knowledge had to be absorbed, preparation should be made. I still have homework from my school, meetings from The Torch, so my schedule became so busy, but I managed.

Hmm, this question seems unexpected, huh? Yeah, it is rare for people to ask this question, since it is generally accepted that a child should be adopted before he forms awareness. But it strikes me hard to think of the reasons behind this common practice.

Hello, it's me again. Curious about what's new? I have completed the first part of my course "Fundamentals of Neuroscience," taught by Professor David Cox of Harvard University. This is a MOOC, and you can easily find it online. I plan to share what I've learned and my experiences enrolling in this course. However, covering everything in a single post would be overwhelming, so I will divide it into four parts. Please note that my understanding may not be entirely accurate since I am only a high school student, so I apologize for any mistakes. I would greatly appreciate hearing your thoughts. I will use the present tense for convenience.

This is the first summer camp I've ever participated in, and I have to say it is spectacular.