It’s been a tiring day.
I have been working for the past four hours, which in retrospect seem like a short period of time, but the ache in my legs only demanded my attention more as the seconds crawled by.
I work at a restaurant in the National Museum of Singapore. It’s a part-time job that I don’t love or hate (of course, my dream job would be a columnist for a magazine or local paper but let’s talk about that some another time… when my future dulls down on the bleakness). As a waitress, I attend to the dietary needs of hungry locals (and foreigners), and well… Wait.
But what I enjoy most about my current job is the act of observing. Every hello that leaves my lips are heard by a complete stranger, and it is the tone that matters. In short, everything I do matters- the way I walk, serve food, take orders, my expressions, as well as my willingness to serve. The way I carry myself in those moments affect the customer’s experience; a chain-reaction that can alter one’s emotions towards an object, person or situation.
Essentially, we are all subjected to change, as well as making a change. And why? I think it’s because we’re vulnerable, so susceptible, so reactive towards everything that is around us.
It’s 3.36 in the afternoon, and I’m sitting at the back of the restaurant, resting my legs that currently feel limp as noodles at the moment.
There’s one thing on my mind (actually, there’s more than one but whatever): ART.
I served 2 ladies today, and while passing her the receipt, I noticed that she was sketching. I tried my ultimate best to avert my eyes as I was to focus on my job, but I couldn’t help it. The swift, skilled strokes of her fountain pen against paper made the familiar scratch that I had once spent hours making in the Sun-less mornings. That’s right, people, I used to draw.
I went for my lunch break, walking briskly towards the kopitiam (coffee shop) nearby, then my walking pace slowed down as I noticed at least thirty artists sitting and sketching around the outdoors of the museum.
It was intensely beautiful.
I walked around, peeking at the detailed and beautiful monochrome-nity of each sketch. There were at least five different styles of sketching the exact same building- as you saw it, as you interpreted it etc. I came to understand that everything that we have done, do, and will do is Art, and there are many ways we can carry out our actions, it’s how we do it that matters.
So, pick the best possible way.
It’s about time I got back to work.
But with a sweeter smile on my face.