anew

“He had no itch to dig for glories, deep in the dust that time has laid”

Aleksandr Pushkin
1799-1837


Many a times, I have often questioned myself repeatedly why I chose architecture in the first place…

The relentless nights of pacing the corridors, torturous sleepovers in the deafening silence of the
whitewashed studios, procuring much sarcasm when credit could jolly well be due instead… we must pretty much be all lowly-paid sado-masochists in this profession.

But somehow… I love it, and to be honest, I don’t reckon I would have had it any other way.

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I would sincerely like to thank the following people: some of whom have touched my life in your little ways, some I could not have possibly ever done without, others who have helped me along this arduous journey…

Mrs Chan Yew Lih - for your sincere guidance and warm encouragements throughout my spectacular journey of self-pursuit, or indulgence, given such short notice.

Mr Low Boon Liang – for your open-mindedness in our email conversations while I was overseas, and honest recommendations on my interests when I was back.

Dr Wong Yunn Chii – it was a brief, but fruitful, conversation we shared when I had to borrow some of your books for reference. The directions you suggested me to look towards then were, on hindsight, most appropriate now.

The Khow – for all the constant little nudges in the right directions, nonsensical ramblings in the wee hours of the morning and more important, being a true friend.

Ms Zheng – was definitely most heartwarming and fuzzy to pick up long-distance calls during the last days of this mad writing-frenzy season.

Ikeda Sensei – for without your guidance and your family, I might not be where I am today.

Last, but not least, I would like to thank my parents, of which without them, I seriously doubt how one can remain sane and be supported, and get me through 6 freaking years of school fees. Thank you and I love you very much, even though this was never actually verbalized.

and the rest, well, I’m terribly convinced you know who you might just be. Thank you all.


They live, they speak, they breathe what love inspires,
Warm from the soul, and faithful to its fires,
The virgin's wish without her fears impart,
Excuse the blush, and pour out all the heart,

How often hope, despair, resent, regret,
Conceal, disdain--do all things but forget.
But let Heav'n seize it, all at once 'tis fir'd;
Not touch'd, but rapt; not waken'd, but inspir'd!

Alexander Pope
1688 - 1744