The Finish Line

We are early.  A little too early that we are spoilt for choices when in choosing our seats.  As I look around I spot a couple of familiar faces – people whom I have specifically come tonight for.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“So you’re all pink tonight.  Pink is the new black, so I heard.”

“Yup, have to.” He shrugs, with a slight hint of nerves.  Who wouldn’t be anxious anyway?  It’s a big night.  It’s the big stage.  It’s the big show.  It’s the big finish line.

“I dislike pink, but I’ll be rooting for you guys.  All the best tonight.”

“Thanks.”

***

“So what kind of music do you listen to?”

“I like indie stuff, but I listen to some mainstream music too.  Currently I like a band called Switchfoot.”

“No way! You like Switchfoot too?”

That was the beginning of everything that was about to take place.  We soon found out we were also fans of John Mayer, played the guitar, played tennis, spoke English with a different twang, saw things in a similar, different point of view.

I learned a lot about my faith from him.  And guitar too.  And tennis.

He learned what fried ice-cream is from me.  

We were both small kids from big cities, stranded in a small town.  

We became friends.

***

Salmah and The Swingers, the all-star band takes the stage with confidence and style.  The moment they strut their stuff, I finally understand what people meant when they said they were in a league of their own.  They are the Adam Lambert-s and Crystal Bowersox-es of the night.  Their rendition of Hey Jude have completely changed my perspective towards my university’s standard of talent.

Hey Jude, don’t make it bad…
Take a sad song, and make it better…

The following acts have become sleepy and boring to me, partly because The Swingers bunch have brought my expectations to a whole new level.  And mostly because I am only looking forward to one more band. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcoming on stage, Sour Stripes!”

The announcement by the emcees wakes me up, and I pay full attention to that pink-cladded team.  I think about the previous attempts that were made.  I think about the disappointment felt year after year.

***

“I need  a win, Vern.  I don’t know what else I want, but I just know I need a win.”

Those words were spoken from a broken person, one who has been trying so hard to make something worth his while.  Someone who was searching so hard for that one thing he could do and shine in.  Someone who needed to finish a race and come out victorious.

We had a lot of those talks.  Especially after a good (and bad) game of tennis.  We talk about things that mattered to us.  Our deepest fears, our greatest dreams, our desperate attempts to make life less scary.

I remember that day, when he lost.  Again.

“Can I have a hug?”

That was the most sincere, broken request I’ve ever heard.  I hugged him as if it would patch things up in an instant.  I knew it didn’t.  He still needed that win he was seeking since Day One.

***

They are the last act.  The crowd is tired. 

They’re playing an acoustic version of a Malay rock song.  Here’s the thing about him.  Doesn’t matter what song he’s playing, who he’s playing with or where he’s playing.  As long as the guitar is in his hands, you see it all over his face.

He’s having the time of his life.

‘God, can this be it?  Let this be it.’

There is something about this band.  They know they cannot top Salmah and The Swingers, but they didn’t give a damn anyway.  They are performing as if they were the only act in the whole show.  I see something special in that band.

I see humility.

They are playing with respect.  For the songs, for the crowd, for themselves.

He’s behind the drums now.  As they reach the peak of the song, he stands up to play, his spectacles flew but he doesn’t care.  He doesn’t need sight to play.  He has more than that.  They all have more than that. 

They have heart.

They sealed their performance with the kind of perfection only they will understand.  The tired crowd who seemed to be unable to lift their hands to clap earlier are now hyped up with all that they have just seen and heard.  I’m not surprised.  They deserve their moment.

He has finally crossed the finish line. With triumph.

‘Thank You, God.’

And then I stand up and cheer.

We’re Open!

That’s right!  The Kooky Jar is open for business!  We consist of two sections:  Food and Design.  Do check out the Food section to see the latest Mother’s Day promotion and other goodies that we have to offer.  The Design section will bring you back here, which is the hub of creativity.

But whatever it is you need from us, we serve with a Dash of Love.

Enjoy your stay.  =)

What Money Can’t Buy

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Let’s face it.  Designers are an anal bunch of perfectionists who want nothing more than to be adequately valued for their work.

Of course, that being said, there are many kinds of people out there who call themselves designers.  But I will leave that topic for another day, when I feel a little bit more pissed off than usual about this term that has been overused without being true to its meaning.

I’m going to talk about design sense today.  Sense cannot be seen, but can only be made evident through someone’s work.  For example, if you have that engineering sense, then your product will achieve its main objective which is to make one’s life as convenient as possible.  Like the ever-efficient commuting system in Japan, even that elevator at your place that requires the least waiting time or that cup you’re using that comes with a handle.

Unlike engineering sense, there is one type of sense (apart from common sense) that is sadly undervalued.

And that is the sense of design.

What’s that?  It’s that cover of the book you’re reading that prompted you to flip its pages in the first place (yes, a book is still, like it or not, judged by its cover), that mouse you’re using right now where the scroll button is nicely fitted in the middle for ergonomics purposes, that infamous Google page where it’s so straightforward it delivers your search in two steps or that fat yellow man whom you’d recognize instantly on TV or the streets.

But most people don’t get that.  They cannot see what good design does to their brain.  It’s like slurping a bowl of delicious, silky noodles that slithers right down to your throat with ease.  It’s such a smooth process that it is often taken for granted.

Design is hard work.  Design sense is what makes your hard work, work.

Sometimes people don’t get how design is priced, even designers themselves.  Dealing with different people, I have often come across comments like, “But this designer I know only charge me RMxxx leh… why yours is higher?” And more often than not, when I ask them what is the process involved or what the objective of their project is, they stumble.  They also tell me, “I don’t know lah, I just tell them what I do and they automatically settle for me.”

Sure.  If they gave me a chunk of text and a bundle of photos to be chucked as I please and add all the miscellaneous “features” onto their site that they don’t need, I might as well create some sort of template and charge them 50 dollars a site.  Every single one of them.

No.  A good designer listens to what you want and advises you on what you need.  And then, draws a balanced line between both.  A designer with a sense of design puts himself in the shoes of a client’s client and distinguishes between their own design ego and a viewer’s mindset.  He sits with a blank sheet of paper and brainstorms for you to put the value into your project that he hopes you and your clients will see.

If you’re a client with a business venture, your design should help you sell.
If you want to start a personal site/blog, your design should reflect you and not what your designer can do.

Doesn’t matter what kind of agenda you have in mind.  A designer with design sense will be able to convey the message you want to send across in a language everybody understands.  He makes your viewers feel smart because of how easy it is to interpret and use your product.

I can turn this site of mine into a full-fledge Flash site with fancy buttons to play with.  But I didn’t.  Because I don’t need to.  And you won’t like it either because you’d have to wait a darn long time for it to load and then forget why you were here in the first place.

So the next time your designer charges you what you consider as an exorbitant fee, weigh your judgement.  Have a look at his/her portfolio and get to know your designer more. Find out about the process he/she goes through and the methods used in order to execute your project.  Are they efficient or are they using cheap shortcuts that will cause you even more hassle in the future?

Designs can be dirt cheap.  But designs that come with that invaluable sense which combine hard work, style, function and practicality, should be due its price.

Putting It Together

Here’s my most expensive toy investment to-date:

pc

After weeks of sourcing for best prices and finding the pieces that would fit, I finally had a taste of putting some of the bits and pieces together today.  And I think the person who invented the cable tie is a genius.

I’m not even sure if I had the cables connected alright.  Or if this thing would even start.  I can’t find out yet cos it’s still missing a heart.  (Hey, that rhymes!)

I just know that my geek-iness  has increased a whole lot more today.

And this geek is glad.

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I search for the realness, the real feeling of a subject, all the texture around it… I always want to see the third dimension of something… I want to come alive with the object.
-Andrew Wyeth