Making a Comeback of Sorts

Hello.

It has been a long time since. So much has happened, yet looking at this space, you'd think my life has been empty and dull. But many things have happened. Too many.

There's a correlation between emotions and frequency of posts. I used to write out of sadness and hurt - a way to organise the mess, to filter thoughts in the head. Now I just don't write anymore. Some have remarked that I appear happier, my tweets less melancholic. For two months, no blog entries. And, I've not written any songs/plays/poetry in a long while. But it's not that my life has come to a complete standstill (in fact, it has never been this full of activity). So after adding it all up, it's either - a) I'm too happy to write, or b) too busy to write.

This reminds me of a discussion I had with SB while strolling through the streets of Melaka some time ago - is it ok for Christians to write out of a place of pain, to make art out of it? My previous stage plays have been satirical with people dying at the end. Some of it was formed out of a sense of frustration/struggle over something, or to poke fun at stuff like our garberment. And they were honest. Not merely for the sake of shock, expectations or because it's hip to be mildly depressed (artist=pain, pain=artist).

Having studied literature, most of the stuff you read are sad, violent, painful, heartbreaking - and the closest it comes to being a bit cheerier is poignant. The happy pieces are often written off as cheesy and un-serious. And the darker they are, the more likely it'll win some kind of award. Growing up, church plays meant costumed depictions and Jesus always dressed in white. Surely that can't be all there is to art and the Church.

I just hope it's ok that I like Waiting for Godot.