Passing time

When I was 23 years old, I looked at the mirror and told myself: "You will never look more beautiful than you are now." And it is true. I wouldn't say everything has gone downhill since - it hadn't been that bad *knock on wood* - but, in a sense, without a doubt it has never been the same ever since that year.

I was walking down the Strand today, running a number of errands (one of which, might I add, involved carrying two hundred and fifty pounds worth of camera film in my bag). I was on the East end of the Strand, having walked up Arundel Street from Temple station, which I haven't been to for the longest time, not since I first arrived in London. It was one of those strange days - everything I set eyes on was heartbreakingly beautiful. The buildings, the Aldwych arch, the Lancaster Road turnoff where I used to cross Waterloo Bridge walking home to County Hall, the weird statues in the middle of the road, the imposing gates of Somerset House, glimpses of the manicured gardens within, past King's College where I once had a rather harrowing scholarship interview, the Strand Palace Hotel, the couple of West End theatres spilling out of Covent Garden, the Charing Cross Thistle Hotel. It was a sunny day, though it occasionally clouded over a little, resulting in flashes of light and darkness like a dramatic high school play. I have never seen London so beautiful - even more so than my previous post. Today, London was so beautiful my heart ached, yet soared at the same time. Something in me was just completely filled by its beauty. In Singapore, it is usually too hot and humid to walk, and even when one tries, it is always too crowded and... and frankly too ugly - its buildings, its sights despairingly humdrum and commercial.

I watched Tavernier's La mort en direct recently, and the force of the film struck me, like a physical blow. The confidence of Tavernier's camera, the elegance of his treatment of the subject matter, the allure of his lighting, so rich, so elegant... it is one of the most wonderful films I have watched recently. It's a complicated storyline, but basically Harvey Keitel plays Roddy, who has surgically transformed his eyes so that they are no longer human retinas, but camera lenses... to capture anything and everything he sees. Asked why he did it, he answers to the effect of, "because everything I see... they will then be there forever... on film."

I wanted today to be captured forever. Everything I laid eyes on today on my walk along the Strand, I want them to be remembered forever. For with the same prescience as at 23, I know life will never be more beautiful than it is today - my lack of bondage, of financial worry, of care, the total absence of any form of fatiguing social situation, the absolute conviction that I'm on the road to achieving my ambitions, and a life and career that would challenge and fulfil me, that I could sincerely care for, yet still possessing the complete liberty to do anything I want, wake up any time I want, chase any dream I want, go anywhere I want, the sheer feeling of opportunities for the future, the sheer fullness of possibility; most of all, the sheer awareness of the freedom of my soul, singing clearly to me. It will not last, and it will never, ever be the same again.