Better Days
There are a few things in life I don't really like to talk about, not because those experiences are particularly bad or hurtful, but because it was so golden, that I cannot fully find it in my capacity to describe that feeling of euphoria. Most of them are journeys, rather that something that had happened on the spur of the moment. In them, I fell to the darkest of depths, and found my brightest of triumphs. I can tell you how they went, how sweat, blood and tears fused into a single entity, but it would not be enough. It would not even come close to the real thing.
Therefore, I am not going to tell you how overwhelming the sensation was as I marched into the National Stadium on National Day in 2006, with 70,000 screaming individuals, in a sea of red and white, in an organised chaos, in one unison voice. I am also not going to delineate the sheer exhaustion of my OCT OBS sea expedition from Ubin to Hantu and back. I will not tell you that the waves were 3 storeys high, rampaging around in the sea, with the downpour reducing visibility down to a few centimetres. I will not warn you, that in the sea, the calmest of spots are usually the most venomous of serpents. Finally, I will not relate to you every step of my 24km route march, how I rose above myself and did things I never thought I was capable of. How I ran, and ran back, and how my soles were worn out.
So how did NUS Arts O Week go? I will not tell you, because if I did, I would put it to shame. As the photographer, each picture means something more to me, which is why I did what I did during the finale. See, to a third party, a certain picture, say of Secret, would just be of numerous faces cam-whoring in the background. To me, as well as to them, it is a story. It is a journey that, for some, has lasted back one month ago to O Week Pre Camp. I remember each picture not as it is, but what happened when I was taking the picture. Seeing my pictures displayed on the final video, as well as in the S House montage, I couldn't help but feel that I had played a part in this fairytale event, and I felt that I really didn't deserve the enormous blessing that I had received, which was why I cried so badly.
Each of us, the O comm, the House ICs, the Councillors, the OGLs and the campers, has left an impression in our respective lives. We fell asleep all over the school, in the level 4 rooms, outside LT8, on the rooftop, in the forum, in the club room, outside the club room, along the corridor linking to the deck and outside the library, with our friends beside us. We felt safe, we felt comforted, we belonged, and in the unity, we grew an identity.
So how did NUS Arts O week go?
Like this.
It is beyond words. A synthesis of soul and spirit that synergises into a single entity that floats... and it floats and hovers and remains, for much, much longer than a moment.
One great rock show can change the world.
This was it.
Therefore, I am not going to tell you how overwhelming the sensation was as I marched into the National Stadium on National Day in 2006, with 70,000 screaming individuals, in a sea of red and white, in an organised chaos, in one unison voice. I am also not going to delineate the sheer exhaustion of my OCT OBS sea expedition from Ubin to Hantu and back. I will not tell you that the waves were 3 storeys high, rampaging around in the sea, with the downpour reducing visibility down to a few centimetres. I will not warn you, that in the sea, the calmest of spots are usually the most venomous of serpents. Finally, I will not relate to you every step of my 24km route march, how I rose above myself and did things I never thought I was capable of. How I ran, and ran back, and how my soles were worn out.
So how did NUS Arts O Week go? I will not tell you, because if I did, I would put it to shame. As the photographer, each picture means something more to me, which is why I did what I did during the finale. See, to a third party, a certain picture, say of Secret, would just be of numerous faces cam-whoring in the background. To me, as well as to them, it is a story. It is a journey that, for some, has lasted back one month ago to O Week Pre Camp. I remember each picture not as it is, but what happened when I was taking the picture. Seeing my pictures displayed on the final video, as well as in the S House montage, I couldn't help but feel that I had played a part in this fairytale event, and I felt that I really didn't deserve the enormous blessing that I had received, which was why I cried so badly.
Each of us, the O comm, the House ICs, the Councillors, the OGLs and the campers, has left an impression in our respective lives. We fell asleep all over the school, in the level 4 rooms, outside LT8, on the rooftop, in the forum, in the club room, outside the club room, along the corridor linking to the deck and outside the library, with our friends beside us. We felt safe, we felt comforted, we belonged, and in the unity, we grew an identity.
So how did NUS Arts O week go?
Like this.
It is beyond words. A synthesis of soul and spirit that synergises into a single entity that floats... and it floats and hovers and remains, for much, much longer than a moment.
One great rock show can change the world.
This was it.
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