I know in my last post I said that Iff would still be updated on occasion, but that is no longer the case. I’ve moved again since creating an account on LiveJournal; I am now blogging via Dreamwidth.org
Song lyrics, translations, whatever you visit this blog for are in the process of being moved over to my Dreamwidth blog. That’s all for iff.blogsome.com!
As of today, I have a LiveJournal account. [nijibug.livejournal.com]
Initially, I did this with the intention of lurking in some fandoms, though after further examination, I found that not only does LJ fulfill all the purposes of a blog, but I actually have friends who use it. Well, that has led me to this decision.
No, I am not “deactivating” this blog; I will still update it on occasion (song translations, not to worry). But in terms of being a “chapter of my life”, I am drawing the curtains on Il faisait frais[e], the snows of my yesteryear…
Very bad news to share with you, my friends. It seems that I have contracted a strangely unrelenting brain parasite. His name is Adrian Veidt a.k.a. Ozymandias. <3 <3 <3
Went to see Watchmen with friends a few days ago (Apr 5). Thought it was a good movie, very impressive and all that, blahblahblah. Left theater unable to decide who was my favorite character. Woke up the next morning with a lovely headache.
OZY OBSESSION NOW EATING MY BRAIN KTHXBAI
(and I blame it all on this asdfghjkl;HAWT scene)
Blue is a beautiful color. I haven’t always thought that. Actually, I never thought of blue as my color. I used to be a firebird. Red, orange, yellow, mahogany. Phoenix bedspread.
It was after I came to Nville. Jessica thought blue was my color. Started dropping hints. Bought me blue clothes. Made me blue jewelry. I didn’t embrace the idea of blue right away. And I still haven’t embraced it completely. But I have since realized that the color blue and I have what in Chinese is called 缘分: a sort of destiny together. The significance of the symbols of sky and water in my life is irrefutable. Sorairo-Magatama and The Gift of Rain. The music I listen to and the music I write. Blue is now without a doubt my favorite color.
I have yet to learn to use the color blue in my art. It still comes out muddy and resistant to flow. But that is due in part to the red-earth nature of SAND DANCE. This is not a problem; SAND DANCE was conceived in my childhood, my firebird days. It is meant to reflect - no - to embody that passion from the noontide of my life.
So while I bask in my sea-sky-blue, I remember the fierce joy that fueled my imagination and gave birth to a world, a music, a story that continues to wend. I will take that fire in my hands and form it into a searing, blue-bright star. It will shine on its own, complete, without me.
That is the long and short of it; the whole of my life’s goal. To bring my one story to a fitting end.
Happy 6th Anniversary, SAND DANCE.
I just got my hands on JS’s 2004 album, 遇见未来 (”Encounter the Future”). I had to translate 天空的颜色 (”The Color of the Sky”) right away. A traditional Chinese melody with lyrics in the same spirit as Do As Infinity’s “Enrai” - it was simply too moving…
(The timing is off in the MV; the video lags behind the audio)
Lyrics & translation moved to new blog:
http://nijibug.dreamwidth.org/12757.html
“It looks like an accident: a suspension bridge, its cables snapped, a boy tumbling from a carriage into the river. But the wandering warrior Balsa recognizes it for what it is: no less than an attempt at assassination. For the boy is the second Prince Chagum, and the secret he carries could destroy the foundation of the empire. Now Balsa must protect the prince as he delivers that secret - the great egg of the Water Spirit — to its source in the northern sea. But they will find themselves hunted by two deadly enemies: the egg-eating monster Rarunga…and the prince’s own father.” (Scholastic.com)
Moribito: Guardian of the Spirit won this year’s Batchelder Award! <3 The sequel, Guardian of the Darkness, will be out in May, according to Cathy Hirano’s latest email. And she says it will be even better.
I really want to order the Magatama trilogy, boxed set. I’m completely broke right now. Will have to ask Dad about it later… Crap, and I forgot to ask Cathy how to pronounce 小俱那’s name in Japanese when I emailed her this morning… See, I’ve been translating the Chinese summaries of Hakuchou Iden and Usubeni Tennyo for THE COLOR OF THE SKY, and I have to guess at the pronunciations of a lot of the names, which are all written in kanji. Hmm… If I do get my hands on Hakuchou and Tennyo this summer, will I be too busy reading them to work on SAND DANCE? ^^,
Mm…by rights, I should be whipping up Moribito fanart (to celebrate, you know). I guess I just fail this spring, I fail… OTL
Found another art thief today. Reported her. She was actually on my friends list. How depressing. -.-, And moreover just a pain in the arse. Why can’t deviantART have a super-efficient regulation system like RuneScape? dA is all show. I might not have any use for RS, but one must admit it works like a charm.
I remember back in the day when dA’s scripting didn’t weigh down my computer, and I didn’t know art thieves existed. I remember when I thought 98% of animu was really great stuff instead of the other way around - 98% being crap I wouldn’t approach with a gas mask and a 40 ft pole. I remember going eagerly with every doodle I made to the school scanner and my art improving in leaps and bounds…
Nowadays…I just pester the dA mods. I hardly watch one anime a year, because good stuff & spare time are too few and far between. My art hasn’t improved any since 2007…
Naahh…just thinking in type. I doubt I could be gearing toward quitting dA. If I do, I’ll do so quietly on my own time. For now, I need a gallery to host my images, and dA fulfills that purpose.
Besides, I have dA to thank for Rose, Valerie, Rouhui…and it’s how I stay in touch with Irena and Miyako…and how else would I have been able to talk with my idols, achiru and Liz Lee? Not to mention sleyf, Bamboo-for-lunch, xNeko, RoseMuse… No. I’ll probably never quit deviantART, ever. It’s too much a part of me.
…from THYME’s nifty first studio album, first 9uality
Hello
Lyrics by THYME; translation moved to my new blog:
http://nijibug.dreamwidth.org/11984.html
“Autumn’s Dream”
A short bit of BGM originally written for SAND DANCE in 2006. It was accidentally erased from my MIDI before I could record it, and I didn’t get around to re-programming it till 2009. Anyways…sort of a theme for Ailan’s childhood.
If the flash player above isn’t loading, the problem probably isn’t my blog or your computer but more likely with 4shared.com, which is where I host all my music files. Try refreshing the page or visit xuelian.4shared.com to see if you can listen there…
“Lines on your face.”
“Hm?”
“Is that what makes you old?” asked Eirendi.
“Quite the contrary; it is being old that puts the lines on one’s face,” Haolan chuckled.
“Then what makes you old, Grandfather?”
“Do you know what old means, Eiri?”
She shook her head.
“It simply means that one has been around for a long time.”
“Well, that doesn’t explain anything.”
“No, it doesn’t,” the doctor admitted. “Not much.”
“But then…you aren’t old at all, Grandfather!” Eirendi beamed. “You haven’t been around very long.”
The old man laughed so that the afternoon sun bounced on his bald crown, and the sparse gray of his beard and whiskers and eyebrows quivered with mirth.
“No indeed, dear child. But I daresay I do have a few years on you.”
A salty wind from the southern sea
Up hill country it blew
The rain had scarcely touched the lea
When up sprang the bamboo!
Strings twanging as the gourd-curved body of the vielle thumped against her back, the gypsy
In memory of Charlene W. Sun (1974-2009)… http://news.deviantart.com/article/72185/
And afterwards, all of my tears
began to overflow
[Last night I dreamt of dragons
This morning when they came
I let them take me with them
And left the world the same]
One night she dreamt of dragons
This morning when we knew
Her spirit had grown wings then
We mourned her as she flew
Tonight let’s dream of dragons
Tomorrow we’ll recall
The one who dreamt of dragons
And shared them with us all.
The dragons’ song, so wild and strong,
fell from the sky like rain
“My name’s Ed.” We shook hands. “Short for Editor.”
“I can guess what your mother wanted you to be.” I grinned.
“My mother? My mother had nothing to do with it. My father beat her to death with a stick and in the process discovered that she had given birth to me.”
The silhouette of a leprechaun, bowlegged and froglike…
“A scholar should never waste their time drawing cartoons,” says Rouhui’s father.
A bottle of ink and two black pens beside an open notebook. My muse from Malaysia shares with me another glimpse of her life. The ink drawing depicts a young man holding a book and wielding a brush against the night sky. She entitles her picture “window”, for it symbolizes “an escape where my imagination speaks of my dreams and hidden desires.”
Rouhui is a chemical engineering biochem major, an archetypal path of study for a young person of Chinese descent. She tells me often about the struggles of schoolwork, but her cheerfulness is unflagging, and more often than not, she manages to inspire and console me seemingly without effort. But Rouhui’s true passion and talent lie in art, especially the ability to ply traditional media to her will. Each piece comes with a story, anecdotes from her childhood, snippets from her daily life; they are her messages of encouragement to students, artists, young people across the globe
In “window”, Rouhui describes the pressure she feels from her family - in particular, her father - to abandon her art: “Ashamed, I bury myself in books in his presence. But the more I read, the more I end up drawing something in his absence. ” While expressing her desire to escape, at the same time, Rouhui never fails to present a determined face with her fierce creativity.
Since we met through a digital picture book project in 2005, Rouhui and I have been escaping in each other, she through my music and I through her art. For a long time, though, I never quite got my finger on what exactly it was that - on a deeper level- drew us to each other. Then, I saw “window” and, as if remembering, I realized.
Last year, I read an article in National Geographic entitled Gilded Age, Gilded Cage. It was a case study following a girl named Bella (Jiaqing Zhou) from the age of four to the age of fifteen. Growing up in Shanghai, Bella’s life exhibits many of the defining aspects of a single child coming of age as a part of China’s expanding middle class - all the competition, stress, frustration, and self-doubt. 
Emerging from elementary school, children must take standardized tests in order to battle their way into the top middle schools, and at the end of middle school, an even more ruthless round of testing winnows out those fit for the very best high schools. As for college entrance exams…let’s just say that China has a scarcely imaginable rate of teenage suicides and leave it at that.
But in spite of the cut-throat environment, Bella remains a headstrong girl - a bit of a diva - with a tendency toward loquaciousness and a startlingly eloquent pen. Reading her description of her final days of middle school, hot tears sprang into my eyes: “I sit in my middle-school classroom, and the teacher wants us to say good-bye to childhood. I feel at a loss. Happiness is like the twinkling stars suffusing the night sky of childhood. I want only more and more stars. I don’t want to see the dawn.”
Her sentiments cut a melting swathe across my heart as my thoughts cried out to her, with her, “Why?” Why are children like us - and yes, we are children - forced to see the dawn? Children of Asia, whether or not we live in our motherlands, can never seem to leave the tethers of the motherland behind. We are driven by our parents, reminded by society, that unless we do as we are told, unless we achieve as we are expected - and more, we are worth less than nothing at all.
I myself am unspeakably lucky.
Tian must do battle to keep her construction site standing in the present; Rouhui must climb through her window to escape the scorch of shame; Miyako and her sunflowers must feed and thrive on dust and exhaust.
As a child with progressive Asian parents, I watch their undulating griefs and triumphs, and I feel that I am blessed beyond belief to have the opportunity to be myself without fear.
As an adult with promises, I am both honored and inspired to be their friend and to bear witness to their courage and integrity.
Our generation is at a tough transition in Asian society. We have no right but to stay strong and fight for our due. Our lives are a bridge to a better future.
I conclude with my translation of a very fitting song, a piece that will tie this journal entry together. The song is a multi-genre work of art in itself, beginning with a classical arrangement, transitioning into rock and then into rap.
P.S. If you have time to watch the music video, tell me if you agree: I think the female vocalist, Lara Veronin, looks like Jessica Lopez! :]
南拳妈妈 | Nanquan Mama - “破晓 | Breaking Dawn”
Music by 詹宇豪 | Yuhao Zhan
Lyrics by 宋健彰 | Devon Song
旭日击退黑暗 破浪而出没
光芒如弓 支支划破沉默的天穹
而你静静挽著 我抑鬱的双手
试图迎风而弹 面海而奏
(The rising sun drives back the darkness, bursting out of the waves
Light like arrows, each line breaking the silent sky
While you wordlessly hold onto my despondent hands
Attempting to play against the wind and the sea)
看著大人们 为了生存而决鬥
回头却触不及 生命最终的丰硕
我看著不战而慄的那个我
黑白键上的双手 开始颤抖
(Watching adults fight each other to the death
Unable to turn back and touch the richness of life
I see myself not fighting but shaken
On the black and white [keys], my hands begin to tremble)
日晷东方滚烫 意志正在酝酿
哪道光芒才是 我们该遵循的方向
信念又 一分一秒崩塌
粉碎边缘 陪伴我的 是你还是他
(In the east, the sun’s shadow churns as ambitions seethe
Which ray of light is the direction we should follow?
Once again, faith is collapsing by the minute
Pulverizing boundaries; who’s coming with me, you or him?)
落叶不停盘旋 冷风不停的吹
勇气卡住喉头 使我决毅奋力不悔
静静闭上眼睛 倾听心底声音
秉著弱势勇气 因为没有输的权利
(Falling leaves spiral endlessly; cold wind blows incessantly
Courage caught in my throat makes me strive without regret
Close your eyes in silence and listen to your heart’s voice carefully
Believe in the underdog’s courage because we haven’t the right to lose)
窗棂旁 泪光柔和了骄阳
琴声正咀嚼著伤
而我在 等待破晓的曙光
(Beside the window, tears soften the sunlight’s glare
The sound of the piano grinds on the wound
While I wait for the light of the breaking dawn)
当 凯旋曲开始悠扬
旭日从东方破浪
颔首期待 我有一双硬肩膀
(When the victory song begins to play
Dawn breaks from the eastern waves
Leading [our] hopes, I have a pair of uncrushable shoulders)
Translation (c) iff.blogsome.com
China was absolutely fascinating. I spent about five weeks traveling across China and I have to go back there early next year for round two. It’s all for a nonfiction project. […] I’ve been feeling my nonfiction wings atrophying. I’ve turned into some kind of penguin. So I thought it would be really interesting to write about China and I’ve been fascinated about the legend of the Monkey King and that became the sort of starting point for me.
The story is one of the four great Chinese classical stories from the 16th century. And I got to investigate the real-life people that story was based on in the 7th century. I also got to travel across China where I had a variety of strange and wonderful events including bribing an elderly watchman to allow me into a closed-down amusement park filled with dark and dusty monkey statues. The park takes you through a story that ends in hell. This thing was an amusement park inside a warehouse so it was very incredibly dark and it closed down because people simply weren’t coming back. I did this walk where you start out in this fun, lovely, happy monkey story and you walk through that to the end of the warehouse where you are in hell and you watch all these demons crushing people before you stumble out into the daylight. I really can’t imagine any little Chinese kid turning around to their dad and saying, ‘Wow, I can’t wait to come back.’
from the LA Times
Very cute how the interviewer paraphrased that as "you start out with ‘Curious George‘ and end up in ‘Dante’s Inferno‘". To which Gaiman replied:
Yes, exactly, that’s it. I also had an old man try to sell me a human elbow by a ruined temple. But I had a wonderful time. Obviously with something as huge and old as China, you can only cover a little bit. I’m looking forward to getting back there and writing more about it.
Neil Gaiman is a fabulous writer, but he’s no Arthur Waley. So I’m actually rather apathetic to this news from a personal standpoint. How will he treat Chinese lore? With sardonic humor? With reverent awe? With grave seriousness? (Are we tired of my redundancy?) Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. I refuse to get my hopes up just because I think I can rely on Gaiman to have a sense of fun (which I believe is necessary when dealing with Chinese legends of Monkey caliber - there are many) and the encouraging fact that he recognizes China as something "huge and old".
To be honest, I actually believe Barbara Hambly would be the writer for an undertaking like this. Gaiman worked with Yoshitaka Amano and Hayao Miyazaki before…and of course he’s famous for his collaboration with Terry Pratchett…Wouldn’t it be something if he teamed up with Hambly for a book?
My uncertainties aside, I admit I’d rather see Gaiman take a Lloyd-Alexander-style stab at ancient China than a sequel to The Graveyard Book. The Avatar hype will help your sales, Mr. Gaiman. Now is the time. ;D
SHINE - lyrics by Rurutia, translated by me
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