As we walked home after dinner last night, we came across Today’s Special on one of the eateries along Joo Chiat Place. HY and I felt that perhaps the guy didn’t know how to write the character for ‘feet’ in Chinese. Is there such a thing as chu1 shou3 even? Are pig hands Singapore’s newly-discovered cuisine?

We also have several new eyewear in store. They are surely cooler than the medley of pigs in this post. Cooler than sea cucumber; hotter than CUCUMBER.

Oh, but it is dirty!
– this little filling station,
oil-soaked, oil-permeated
to a disturbing, over-all
black translucency.
Be careful with that match!

Father wears a dirty,
oil-soaked monkey suit
that cuts him under the arms,
and several quick and saucy
and greasy sons assist him
(it’s a family filling station),
all quite thoroughly dirty.

Do they live in the station?
It has a cement porch
behind the pumps, and on it
a set of crushed and grease-
impregnated wickerwork;
on the wicker sofa
a dirty dog, quite comfy.

Some comic books provide
the only note of color–
of certain color. They lie
upon a big dim doily
draping a taboret
(part of the set), beside
a big hirsute begonia.

Why the extraneous plant?
Why the taboret?
Why, oh why, the doily?
(Embroidered in daisy stitch
with marguerites, I think,
and heavy with gray crochet.)

Somebody embroidered the doily.
Somebody waters the plant,
or oils it, maybe. Somebody
arranges the rows of cans
so that they softly say:
ESSO–SO–SO–SO

to high-strung automobiles.
Somebody loves us all.

Filling Station
Elizabeth Bishop

The dreams of the young. I once wanted to study Elizabeth Bishop. And that was all I wanted for myself. Now I want so much more. Yet I’m unable to specify one.

The dreams of the young remain with them.

You lucky cow.

It’s like somebody’s house selling some food!
Turn into Jalan Tua Kong in Siglap (nestled among some old shophouses and terraced houses) and when you see a corner coffee shop, walk on further and you’ll see it.

Or a lady will persuade you to try her good Peranakan dishes and that should be Katong Delights.

More than once have people approached our landlord, because they wonder if there could be a chance we give up our store at 93 Club Street. First there was a bookseller (not any on Club Street!), and today there is a rather well-known figure whose father has come up and told of how many concessions they have received in all areas of life as a result of his fame. I’m not sure, these bits of info are volunteered by my landlord. I am sad, disheartened and I have so many questions. I had earlier welcome the bookseller when he came into the store one day (also with his son!), when he wanted to see how big our store was. I didn’t mind this, as I thought it would be good if he could gauge the upstairs unit (up for rental) from looking at our floor space. He asked questions, almost like we were giving it up, but still I thought it fine. Then today our landlord called and asked if we were really interested in his place. I mean, we signed the tenancy agreement long ago… Rental issues on Club Street have become notorious, which explains why Front Row had to move out of its old crib. Today I learn that if you are interested in someone’s rental unit, you could always talk your way into getting the unit, vacant or not. All that matters is getting co-operation from the right sources.

I guess humans are not humans unless they have a business. Whatever that business may be, the human mark, not unlike Cain’s mark, means that we have to decide at every point in the journey of survival, self-interest and legacy. And if our compass is not guided by strong principles, or that our crutches are not backed by a solid integrity, what could the replacement tools be?

How could small, independent businesses like ours prove anything to the country? That art has a place called the heart. That there is no art without science, and vice versa. That freedom is not a privilege. How could we build something Singapore would be proud of, not because we want to be like A or like B, but like what we have painted in our heads, in our heads and nobody else’s before!

93 Club Street is the third place we’ve moved to since we started our little business four years ago. We’ve always depended on ourselves, with our own funds, our own production means, and our own distribution channels, with no external help. We don’t even mind sacrificing press to spend more time on production. We always believed word of mouth, while it may come slower than direct advertising (at least for us), is the only way we know how and will accept. The truth is we have not sought funding because we’re so busy making things come alive. We’ve not known weariness.

I wish I could spell out names and not think about lawyers. (Or fans.)

I wish I could unlearn what I learned today.

Antique Snake Brass Bracelet

I found a good place recently! Jones The Grocer at Mandarin Gallery serves up no-butter scones for your coffee to come all the more orgasmic.

Actually all I really wanted to say is there is a tucked-away corner in the chatter of Orchard Road/Singapore at this cafe. High ceilings, unobtrusive, can we hide here during wartime?