A few thoughts and reflection are due, since my first year at university has just ended. I will be doing much of my musing at the farm, which I will be leaving for in the morning, but just for closure, I'm scrawling a few endnotes here to put my perspectives ... into perspective.

I am quite disheartened at the general Malaysian community here. I have chosen to stay away from the association for a little while, to think over a bit the estrangement -- a sort of disconnect, an inability to identify with them, and a general lethargy -- I feel I have with the Malaysian community. I have always idealized, perhaps in a too romanticized notion, about the group of politicized intellectuals studying abroad, who keep track of the goings-on of our home country and see what sort of clout we can form to pressure the government to adhere to democratic principles. You know, the sort of thing Ho Chi Minh did when he was in France. He submitted a document asking for Viet Nam's independence at the discussions post-World War II in Europe and subsequently started an anti-colonial movement. Maybe I had set my expectations too high for our pro-establishment Malaysians.

This has many times made me think about whether I want to return home to Malaysia in the long-term. Several people have asked me this, and I usually answer in the affirmative. I also realize that many international students here plan to apply for a PR or citizenship in the long-term, and a few graduating seniors I've talked to, already obtained their PR/citizenships. Do I take this same path? The perks are certainly there: you can buy a house, you can apply for more fellowships, enter graduate school more easily, find employment more easily, etc. What more, with the skills and academic papers I will have received by that time, there should not be many problems surrounding the application.

Before coming to the US, I usually answer unequivocally that I will return. Now, I'm not so sure. A few events in the past year have made me reconsider going home. I am liking it here. And I am receiving a lot more support in terms of the activist work I do, the rallies I participate in, and the fulfilling relationships I form through my work. But perhaps, this is where it becomes ever more important to re-analyze my slightly changed perspective. Just because things will be more difficult with Malaysians and in Malaysia, should I give up on it?

A quick response would elicit a 'No!', but a response that takes a bit more time to think through would have me saying 'Yes!' As much as I feel invested in Malaysia as a citizen of my country, I am also one to consider the social and historical context of the country. People have told me that fighting for queer rights in Malaysia is futile, because we are only so young as a nation. "It took more than 300 years for the gays to get marriage in America; we're not even 100 yet!" People have also told me that queer rights is not Malaysian. I agree. I agree that it is perhaps more futile than it is worthwhile and I agree that queer rights is un-Malaysian. It is futile because I expect a lot of backlash and obstacles-many of which are severely difficult to overcome. Un-Malaysian because many Malaysians just do not care enough about equality and respect for people with different gender identities and sexual orientations.

The odds are definitely against me and all of us who aspire to head in that direction. Should I give up? Rationally, yes. Would I give up? Probably, not. I would have to say that I actually do have hope. And hope is what is going to keep me going.

I have been inspired by so many people and so many Malaysians this year alone. Most of them back home, struggling with an education system that is in need of dire improvement. And yet, they make the most out of it and they try in every way to improve on the circumstances they are in. A close friend from Kajang went all out to organize a gathering of youth for a human rights campaing, Demand Dignity, calling for governments of countries to respect human rights and to raise awareness about the interlinkedness between poverty and human rights. Another close friend wrote me an email sharing his thoughts on life and his future -- both he is uncertain about -- and it touched me to know that these are the true Malaysian activists. All I can do is sit and watch, through gmail and facebook; the greatest extent of my participation is through writing blogs and facebook notes.

It would be a shame if I were not able to work with them on greater projects in the future, only because I chose not to return home. The harsh fact remains: not many of us can choose to return home. And having understood that, I can sometimes begin to understand why returning home may be the most important decision of my life.

As an atheist-turned-agnostic-turned-areligious (merely semantical changes in my belief in god), I have always found the Middle Ages to be dull and dark. To be honest, I do not really know anything about the period of time, stretching some 500 years from about 800 - 1400. Other than little glimpses into the era through Sean Connery's memorable role as King Arthur in the movie, Disney's The Sword in the Stone, and Monty Python, medieval history had always seemed rather boring. Men in armor. Kings and battles. Christianity and feudal systems.

Perhaps it was also because the Middle Ages were sandwiched between two other luminary eras. The Renaissance replaced, or rather, improved on, many medieval modes of thinking and expression whereas classical Islamic civilization hogged the history books spanning the years preceding and during those same centuries. In short, the Dark Ages were dark because so little was known about it. We found other historical milestones to be more important.

Today no one ever calls those years the Dark Ages anymore - it's a type of misnomer akin to the use of the term "noble savage" when referring to backward tribes who purportedly have supernatural powers with nature. Medieval philosophers, rulers, and noblemen had their own Englightenment, and I so happened stumbled onto one of them: the Art of Illumination.

Illumination refers to the work done by pictors/illuminators of miniatures, small-scaled paintings and artwork done on parchment in prayer books, called Books of Hours, very much like the picture of a reproduction below.


ff. 18v-19, Annunciation. In Latin and French, illuminated manuscript on parchment
France, Loire Valley, Angers?, c. 1500.

Although many illuminations resemble the model above, most illumination differed subtly from one another even if they were meant to look the same as they were done by hand prior to the invention of the printing press in the 1400s. Indeed, some artists imposed their creative license onto such works of saintly women and liturgical scenes on purpose, trying to get at a message or sometimes just to be witty.

Through my course of study, I began to learn about the relationship between text and image, and image and image. I asked more questions than I had them answered, and it was very important to make sure we are not forcing our time and space onto the historical context of these books. Why is Jesus sometimes portrayed as a femininized figure? Is it important that the Virgin is to the left or the right of Gabriel in the Annunciation scene? How does this change the experience of reading? Why is an unidentified character showing his butt in the margins?

These questions occur rarely - but they do occur. I am listing some of the questions I had asked and I tend to look for the sexual and obscene/deviant as my interests lie in studying the representations of gender and sexuality. Indeed, the middle ages was a time during which many symbols and representation of concepts and ideas, both religious and secular, began coming into place. The depiction of the typical Crucifixion scene, with Mary and Mary or John flanking the dying/dead Christ comes from variation after variation of illuminated scenes from such prayer books.


ff. 34v-35,Crucifixion. In Latin and French, illuminated manuscript on parchment
France, Loire Valley, Angers?, c. 1500.

For my final project, I decided to create my own Book of Hours, done quite in the same vein as the Book of Hours (Use of Pointiers) above: Styling and arranging a prayer book through a Marian reading of the liturgy, paying homage to those great women mystics and healers who tasted the foreskin of Christ, who married Christ, who had visions of Christ. Little guess why the art is called 'illumination'.

Hours of the Virgin, Final Project:



Hours of the Dead (and The Death of the Virgin), Final Project:



I'll never watch Monty Python in the same way again.

Note: Images from the Book of Hours (Use of Pointiers) taken from this website that catalogs facsimiles and original copies of Books of Hours. The website also provides two great tutorials, basic and advanced, for understanding the historical context and structure as well as use of prayer books, including its patronage, iconography, and historiography.

I seldom say this of any book, but Loren Cameron's Body Alchemy changed the way I viewed the world. I have seen the cover of this book appear on many occasions. I remember sitting in the audience, listening to a lawyer speak about a proposed International Bill of Gender Rights that would protect the human and civil right of any individual to freely express hir gender.

A slide came up: it was the front cover of the book, with Loren Cameron stealthily standing in a slight contortion. His legs faced the right; a trail of dark pubic hair leads up his abdomen and disperses across the spread of his muscled pectorals, which were facing us. His neck was bent the other way so that his face is turned towards the left, eyes slightly downward-looking at the syringe of testosterone about to be injected into his butt-cheek.

While staffing at a library here on campus, I was sorting books when the same captivating cover captured my attention. Body Alchemy: Transsexual Portraits. The book is a collection of self-written anecdotes and photographs taken by Cameron of himself, his friends, and members of the community. The photographs offered a personal view into the life of being a trans man, their transition processes, their jobs, their relationships. The opening page moved me:

"Everytime I tell someone I am a transsexual, I have a tubulent series of emotions. At first, I am afraid that whomever I'm telling will have a negative response, afraid that they will somehow be repelled and become hostile or in some way reject me. As I begin to speak, my heartbeat races a little, and I feel my face flush with the heat of embarassment. I might even stammer as the words fall out of my mouth, failing to consider my nervousness. My stomach tightens in anticipation.

"But then, if I've been given positive reception, I begin to spill it all with myopic enthusiasm, answering every question, which always encourages another. People are naturally curious, and some have a real need to know. By revealing myself, I have consensually invited their voyeurism; they can't help but watch as I make a spectacle of myself....

"In the end, when I have spilled my guts or exhausted their interest, I begin to retreat a little. A grayness falls over me, and I realize that I feel unsafe. I feel naked. Self-doubt starts to poke holes in my ego, and I begin to think I have exploited myself: I am ashamed of my exhibitionism. I promise myself not to tell anyone ever again. -Carney."

His intimate re-telling of his experiences with other people struck a chord with me as an ally. I am always teethering between knowing how much to (not) ask. Over the year, as I become more involved in issues important to the trans community, I have decided that it is not my place and not my experience to determine - dictate - how much I know. I used to feel uncomfortable, not knowing enough, not knowing how much more I should know.

But I have learned that knowing does not equal knowing the person. I have found valuable friendships and support from being an ally, without always fully understanding the specifics. My source of information comes from books and websites, if I do need a little bit more of understanding. But I have also learned that being there is just as important.

How much can you know, and will it ever be the same experiences ze is going through?

Body Alchemy has allowed me to question my position as an ally and to re-view the way I interact, engage, and think about my politics. Most importantly, the collection of photographs and their accompanying stories have touched me in a very human way. For the first time, I can slip out of my shoes and into theirs, if only for a little while.

I've always admired a certain AiLing Loo for her lighting and other technical work on stage. Tonight, in her footsteps, I will be tech-ing for a dance show! I think the scenes are quite beautiful, some of them bordering on the Beckettesque, like this one:



Others are just wonderfully choreographed, not to mention the skill, like this one:



These are just a few examples of the many other dance scenes premiering tonight! And the premiere of my foray into technical theatre! Time to shun the spotlight!

Lighting design by Elizabeth Mak.

We try to be objective

I try
to be
but
I am

only objectified
by the fat middle-aged
buggers who talk
about my role as a voter
my place as a citizen
my duties as a Malaysian

when you fuckers
in your suits and shiny
baju melayu
fuck around with democracy
and leave us
with pandemonium
without parliament

stop imprisoning us!

"majority is a maxim"
only when we vote them in
you little fucker

Malaysians are intelligent,
thank you, Najib

but I wouldn't measure
our intelligence
by your limpid yardstick
of hegemonicracy.

I am to be free
and full -

where are my constitutional rights?

Arrest me
defile me
demonize me
as you will,
Barisan Nasional -
and you shall find
pounding fists
of revolution
breaking down
ISA prison bars
and your door.

This is not metaphor.
This is sedition
if we play by your rules.

But the rule by which
all other Malaysians play,
dear darling Najib,
is the constitution.

Dark dewy night
shrouding, enclosing
the deep black sky
in its misty quietus
hidden stars.

Two souls sweep
in silent murmurs
simmering secrets
shared
on the banks of the Charles
breath on breath
thought and thought
word for word
two souls
share.

Dark dewy quietus
a night away
from the red
bricks of Harvard
and its bustling kids
two souls weep
for the world
reflected on the Charles.

I think I live in a time several years behind the present. I feel as if I'm trailing behind a kite that I am flying in the wind . No matter how fast or far I run, I cannot catch up with the kite. I have tried running after the wind but I can never catch it.

When Mika was the rave in 2007, my only inkling of the British singer was that he was the rave at the time. Several days I ago, I found his song "Grace Kelly", which I love a lot - for its lyrics, its music, and his voice. But the song that struck me most was "Any Other World", a modern aria of sorts about being alone and being sad - almost like a contemporary version of John Keats' Ode on Melancholy.

Here's several lines from both the works, which I have put together in what I read as the moment of convergence between the two:

Cos it's all in the hands of a bitter, bitter man
Say goodbye to the world you thought you lived in
Take a bow, play the part of a lonely lonely heart
For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.

There's a fatalistic sense of hopeless sorrow and departure. And yet, within those dark shadows, the poet standing half in moonlight, half in nightshade shade, silver dusting of light, he stands - and cries. But he stands, bowing, crying.

Someone said to me that saying Goodbye is one of the hardest thing to do. You leave behind materiality for a future of wispy memories and haunting ghosts. Walk towards the light and you turn to see your shadow. Maybe it's time to face away from the light and head into darkness, shadows leading the way.