C'est comme le bon vin.

les amoureux, Emile Friant

Emile Friant and Joanna Wang :) Painter from long ago and budding young songstress. The mix of their work of late has led me to want to believe more in the riskier things in life.

So has Auntie Agnes' delicious bread pudding and invitation for me volunteer at the orphanage she frequents, and essentially her very vivacious belief in life that might have in some ways treated her unkindly. Ah yes, belief. How incredibly powerful.

Oh well, it's one thing to believe and another to act upon what I'd like to believe in. As much as frivolity is not always a good thing, it is rather enjoyable right now. And frivolity will definitely rule the day come the 3rd. Wooo!

But hopefully, come Liverpool, I'd shape up, be a good boy, and save the bon vin for then. Though I realise unlike the metaphor I'd call it by, it is rather par chance and would not materialise at my beck and call. So maybe I'd just end up with the random substitutes. I don't know. :S

P.S. Though this I swear of the riskier things, I will never in the words of a book I finished a couple of weeks back, "drift towards it like the way one drifts towards seats while waiting at an airport". No way.

Insight

which I think I might lack, or exercise most rarely.

And this was concluded after an encounter quite insignificant, but nevertheless telling.

Frivolity might not always be a good thing :)

And...

So it was birthday party weekend. And there was the remembering of those who passed on today. And in the midst of meeting up with friends from long ago, the thoughts evoked by the events over this weekend culminated in a strong feeling of distaste at the perceived lack, and the want for more.

But still, there is the anticipation that contradicts the general antipathy towards the likes of what has inspired such. Contradictions suck. One finds it incredibly hard to decide on what is necessarily the best choice.

But perhaps they might not be as mutually exclusive as I think it to be. In fact, logically, it isn't. I guess it might be either something instinctive and visceral, or perhaps a very neglible whim I could ignore, perhaps it is ok to take a little Eve's nibble; to be the naughty boy who dips his finger into the fondue to steal a taste before dinner starts.

We'll see...