The Parents are back!

And I am ashamed of myself.

I sold crude materialism in exchange for refine aesthetic capabilities. I completely forgive my parents for their ignorance on arts because they love their daughter well.

LOOK WHAT THEY BOUGHT ME!!!!

(ok technically speaking you can't cause i am too lazy to upload the photos.)

The previous times they called they always asked me what I wanted, to which i always reply 'it's ok', 'don't need', 'i don't know what they sell there', etc.

And they will reply in turn 'We didn't buy much anyway.'

ok.

Turns out 'didn't buy much' is a relative term.

They bought me:

1) A Pocket mirror with pink sparkling tinsel cover and the words Paris artistically set upon it, silver in colour. The A is formed by (What else?) the Eiffel Tower, and the Art de Tram is at the background. I currently spend an inordinate amount of time staring at the mirror.

2) A Harrod bear box! The bear is a dressed in a doorman costume. Ostensibly we buy it for the sweets, but obviously for the box. The sweet's crap. I shall distribute it to all my friends in hope of emptying the box. (I am just kidding friends! The sweets are brightly wrapped in colours of the rainbow. But i do want the box emptied soon!!!)

3) A Parisian felt hat! (You know, the artist kind!) Its black in colour! And I have black stockings! Going to get black pumps! *Cy senses her reputation as a bimbo rapidly escalating and decides to switch topic

4) Onyee will know this one :D They went to the Globe theatre and got me a bag that said 'Off with the damned spots!" From Macbeth. Act 5, Scene 1. (A little help here onyee)

Etc.

They went to the Louvre as demanded by their Singapore bound daughter. I am rather impressed by the surfeit of knowledge they had about the pictures and statues. Its amazing really.



'So silly, ' said mama disdainfully. 'They put a tiny picture in a frame inside a plastic box. For what? It's so tiny.'

I decided to appeal to her realistic side. 'But mama,' I said reasonably. 'Its probably worth millions and millions of dollars...'

She sniffed.

'It's a He anyway.'

I was a little surprised. 'You know about the conspiracy theory?'

'Hm.. it's a he. '

Wow. Impressive.

I'm not too sure if they truly appreciated it, but they obviously thought i did, cause there was 20 variations of the Mona Lisa picture taken at different angles, which they insist i look through to see if it was looking at me or not. They also bought a ridiculous number of mona lisa bookmarks that showed her in different profiles, including one with only her eyes in view, and a photo storer with another picture of her, and took a picture of her in my brother's phone (which they brought with them) for good measure. I think they think i am a fanatic about mona lisa, which i am not. I just want to stand before her. Maybe I should not have emphasize so much on her. God knows what their conversations have been like then:

'So, should we leave now?' mama

'Better take more, did you hear the way she talk about it? Only our daughter would be interested to see if the painting follow her or not. Get those bookmarks too. Maybe she'll feel better if she can touch the mock one.'

'Let's take a pic in her brother's cam, just in case she wants to bluetooth the picture into her phone.'

'Great idea, let's do it.'

'Do you think she is really our daughter? Why would our daughter appreciate such a weird painting?'

'Ya, heard the painter was gay too. Why should he paint himself as a girl? Weirdo.'

'Ya, weirdo. like our daughter.'

*shrugs* Oh well.



'What is that?' said I.

'Some god of Victory.' said papa.

'Goddess,' corrected mama.

I can't think of anything else missing their head that look less victorious. But by george, there is SUCH a goddess. Nike, Goddess of Victory!

'OMG, it's Nike!' I said excitedly.

'Nike? The shoe brand?'

'No, Nike is the name of the goddess, why else do you think Nike called themselves Nike?'

'Where is her head?' asked my irrelevant brother.

'My dear brother, this is the original. The remnants of time has probably swept it away.'

He gave me a slightly blank look.

'It's destroyed.'

'Orh...'



Anyway, aren't you impressed by my parents? They recognised a headless statue as a Goddess they hithero were unaware existed and did so via French information signs, which were the only signs available there!

Unbelievble!



'That's your milo'

'Huh? Oh.. Venus de milo.'

Then it was as though the muses took over my mother. 'It was believed that in the original statue she was looking at a mirror... because she has a very serene look on her face. In addition, she is believed to be fixed on a wall.'

I stared at mama. 'Wow.'

'Yea.' My mother looked at her calmly. 'She has no hands though, so its just a guess.'

Wow.



Of course, the impression of asthetic eruditition was partially marred when they all laughed at her butt crack.



And then the famous painting that had my father on his way to artistic inspirations.

'This painting is the greatest lie on earth.'

And I thought that title belonged to Coffee's eyes. (Refer to previous post for those who don't understand me. Don't known which post? I have no idea either. Conversation with dog part 2 or sth.) 'Why?'

'You see that lady sitting at the balcony? That is Napolean's mother. But she supposedly disagree with his choice of wife, and did not attend the ceremony. But he insisted that it is to be put there. Thus,' my father concluded wisely. 'It is the greatest lie on earth.'

I am tempted to tell papa that since painters often need patrons to further their career, their paintings often portray one sided view of the subject anyway, but decided not to. After all, it is rare that he can relate to a painting in a way other than size. More importantly, i am getting increasingly suspicious of their wide cache of sudden knowledge. Then came evidence.




WHAT IS MAMA WEARING????

'Oh it is the recorder that told us about the stuff.' said mama unabashedly.

Well, at least they were actually interested enought to rent it. Right?

'Our friend got for us one.'

Ok, at least it did help them appreciate the arts more right?

'huh, actually we just saw your milo and mona lisa, then we sit outside and wait for them. Later they bring us back in.'

Dots.

They journey in UK can be succinctly summarised as such:

1) Went to Buckingham Palace, but failed to see the palace guards.
2) Went to Harrods, but failed to see Princess Di's memorial.
3) Went to Globe theatre, but failed to enter the Globe theatre.
4) Went to Westminister Abbey, but failed to recognise that it is Westminister Abbey.

The fourth point is the funniest.

Look Chiawyee, we visited the Parliament building!!!


‘Where?’
‘There!’
‘Where?’
‘Neh, the white coloured building on the right...’
*silence
‘Pa, please, please tell me you don’t think that the parliament building in UK Is equal to the White House in the USA????’

‘Oh.’

I searched frantically through the pictures.
Aha!


‘What’s this mama?’

‘Don’t know. Nice building though.’