Dear reader, Whenever I hear Shigeru Umebiyashi’s score for In the mood for love, I wish Yumeji’s theme to match mine — languid poetry in colours and the music to match that slightly lingering existence. Of course, that’s not the case. I am no Chow Mo-wan. I wouldn’t know how to dress that stylishly, and tobacco smoke makes me cough. So, sitting with my shirtsleeves rolled up, curlicues tracing the afterlives of cigarettes and thoughts — such artistic rumination isn’t possible for someone whose chief dilemma in life is how to perfect the
Tuning to a city's frequency
Tuning to a city's frequency
Tuning to a city's frequency
Dear reader, Whenever I hear Shigeru Umebiyashi’s score for In the mood for love, I wish Yumeji’s theme to match mine — languid poetry in colours and the music to match that slightly lingering existence. Of course, that’s not the case. I am no Chow Mo-wan. I wouldn’t know how to dress that stylishly, and tobacco smoke makes me cough. So, sitting with my shirtsleeves rolled up, curlicues tracing the afterlives of cigarettes and thoughts — such artistic rumination isn’t possible for someone whose chief dilemma in life is how to perfect the