Summer break, finally. Home of food's greatest, here I come!

Haji Lane, Singapore

"If you're sick of battling the damn Orchard Road crowds, head over to the Arab Street area.For those in the know, this neighborhood is a treasure trove of eclectic finds from design studios and fashion boutiques to eateries and shisha joints. With the crazy artwork/graffiti that adorns the walls and the mish-mash of shops, everything about Haji Lane and its surrounding streets screams quirkiness and uber cool underground style."

"Art is lie which makes us realize the truth."

~Pablo Picasso~

Art is an ever-controversial term. The beauty of the word itself is that though it cannot be defined in a universal sense, it's meaning is no less important. Not only is the definition of art ever evolving, it will always have it’s own definition to the artist, the critic and most importantly the viewer. Picasso states that art deceives the viewer into believing that a particular image is reality; however, what I find is that artists are creating as a perceived reality.

Modern art, beginning with the Impressionist movement and those pioneers who began to interpret their own realities ever to subtly as the way light might move across the canvas. To the Expressionist and Post-Modern art of later years go even further to deceive the viewer. Yet what is really being portrayed is not necessarily reality. The interpretation and personal perception of that reality is what finds its way upon the medium. As such, this acuity plays a significant role in what we as individual viewers are attracted to - the most intriguing and fascinating pieces are those that force the viewer to alter their perception of their own reality and ask questions: What does this piece mean to me? How does it affect me and my own life?

One of the pieces that I personally find moving is Chagall’s Three Candles. It has created a separate plane in my own mind where floating lovers, joined in a lifetime union. It speaks of hopes and endless dreams.

What is your favorite piece of art? What does it whisper to you and what reality (surreal or otherwise) does it impress upon you?

Gonna pack up all my cares and woe,

Here I go singin' low,

Bye bye blackbird.

Where somebody waits for me,

Sugar is sweet, so is he,

Bye bye blackbird.

No one here can love and understand me,

Oh what hard luck stories, they all hand me.

So make my bed and light the light,

I'll arrive late tonight,

Blackbird, bye bye.

I'm gonna pack up all my cares and woe,

Here I go singin' low,

Bye bye blackbird.

Where somebody waits for me,

Sugar's sweet, so is he,

Bye bye blackbird.

No one here can love and understand me,

Oh what hard luck stories, they all hand me.

So make my bed, light the light,

I'll arrive late tonight,

Blackbird, bye bye.

Great, I muse. Just great.

Now is a pitstop for me to refuel and reflect - before rejoining the mad rush of the race. Of course the constant skirmishes take a toll. There is the sheer exhaustion of it all. When sometimes I dearly wish I had time enough and breath, to sit and be still, to un-think and un-feel, to Zen. I haven't melted off into the sunset with Prince Charming. It is my time to capture the moment, to feel inspired, to think foolish thoughts and dream imprudent dreams. I am storing up nuggets in my life-bank, stashing away as much as I can for the rainy days I see ahead. And if I suffer, for now I prefer to do so in silence. So a moratorium on the personal affairs of Molly for now.

I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg.

The pheonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid.

Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy

It deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are.

The olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae.

The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm.

Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlefBut the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig huh?

Yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt.