Archive for published articles

the peak: jazz princess

date: november 2007
published in: the peak magazine

Mag Cover       sophie milman - p.1       sophie milman - p.2       sophie milman - p.3

:: click to enlarge pictures ::

click here to view article in pdf format: sophie milman – pdf

this reminds me that i still haven’t get the pictures of milman’s jazz performance at CoChine in plaza mont kiara.

hints.

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the peak: linkages

date: november 2007
published in: the peak magazine

Mag Cover yeoh kean thai - p.1 yeoh kean thai - p.2 yeoh kean thai - p.3 yeoh kean thai - p.4

:: click to enlarge pictures ::

to view the article in pdf format, click here: yeoh kean thai – pdf

remember my previous entry of how i ended up with drawings on my bandaged hand after the interview. well, here is the man himself. very down-to-earth and a pleasant person to talk to.

i also received an email from datin shalini, owner of the private gallery some time back. here’s what she wrote:

Dear Cheryl:

I have just read the article on Yeoh Kean Thai in this month’s Peak. Thank you very much. It is well written and informative. (Only one typo – 1990s instead of 1900’s – when he first began on the environmental themes!).

Have a wonderful Deepavali.

All the best.

erm… oppsie!

errors like this shouldn’t happen. might be just a slight typo, but it still changes the information altogether. 1900s and 1990s have many years in between.

my bad.
note to self: be more thorough in checking the next time.

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a note from troy ruffels

it’s emails like this that reminds me why writing puts a smile on my face. the sense of fulfilment and pride is indescribable.

sad to say, i did not manage to attend the exhibition. maybe next time…

Hi Cheryl,

I have just realised that I never did thank you for the wonderful article you put together in the PEAK magazine on my exhibition at TAKSU Gallery. You shaped the information I provided in response to your questions into a really nice piece, and I have had much positive feedback on it here.

Thank you again so much for taking the interest and time to put together such a thoughtful article. I do hope you had a chance to have a look at the exhibition during the time it was on show. Thanks again, and all the best with your future endeavors.

Sincerely,

Troy

if you haven’t, do read the article here

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the peak: silent night

date: october 2007
published in: the peak magazine

       Mag Cover      Troy Ruffels - p.1      Troy Ruffels - p.2      Troy Ruffels - p.3

:: click to enlarge pictures ::

you can also view the article in pdf format here: Troy Ruffels – pdf

leave a comment and let me know what you think, alright?

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the peak: the heart beneath the carvings

date: september 2007
published in: the peak magazine

Mag Cover      juhari said - p.1      juhari said - p.2      juhari said - p.3

:: click to enlarge pictures ::

view article in pdf format here: juhari said – pdf

my very first article for the peak.
*beams*

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d2y2: from the art, to the heart

date: july 17, 2007; tuesday
published in: d2y2 magazine / d2y2 online
url: from the art, to the heart

From The Art, To The Heart
by Cheryl Mohan

Mother’s Day and Father’s Day ended not too long ago. I remembered back when I was at Sunday school, my teacher would teach each of us to make something during handicraft session and ask us to write a special note to our parents so that we can present it to them as a gift for that special day. The handicrafts became harder to make as we grew older. From just colouring a picture of a flower, decorating it with gold dust and pasting it on a straw, I remembered that there was one year I had to literally plant a flower in a pot. Of course, the poor flower did not survive long and I came home with gold dust all over me. And I doubt that pleased my mom much.

Sunday school season ended for me. I became too old for it. And so the handicrafts stopped. No more flowers for mummy on Mother’s Day. No more self-made picture frames for daddy on Father’s Day. No more bright red hearts and stickman pictures that supposedly represent my parents. Mind you, I was never an artist so stickmen were my best attempts. Instead of making gifts, I resorted to buying them instead. Fewer headaches, looks nicer and plus, it’s the thought that counts, right? After all, I did get my parents gifts to show that I appreciate them and that I knew when exactly was Mother’s Day and Father’s Day.

Okay, my point is this: my gifts didn’t show that I loved my parents more or any less. In fact, I only gave them gifts because I felt that it was a ‘proper’ thing to do to make the day a little more special. And on a side note, I have nothing against giving gifts.

But frankly, how many of us have a close relationship with our parents? By close relationship I mean to say that we share From the Art, To the Heartwith them about the happenings of our life. Maybe we were close to them when we were younger, but what about now when we are older? I’ve heard and know friends who remark that they barely have a relationship with their parents because of various reasons. And instead of waiting of our parents to spend time with us or even show their love to us, why don’t we as children take the first, and second, and third and the tenth initiative to do so.

Show you love and care for them all year round. Not just through giving gifts but through your actions. Love your parents by honouring them (Deut 5:16). And by honouring them it means that we respect them through our way of conduct and behaviour (Prov 28:7), we speak well of them (Prov 30:11-17), we listen (Prov 1:7-9) and obey them (Eph 6:1-2), and we take care of them (Prov 19:26, 10:5) and do not give them unnecessary cause to worry.

“Romance fails us and so do friendships, but the relationship of parent and child, less noisy than all others, remains indelible and indestructible, the strongest relationship on earth.”—Theodor Reik

About the author: Cheryl loves the sight of lightning flashing through her window and the sound of thunder. Uniquely also, she has preference for melted chocolate.

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d2y2: walk on

date: december 18, 2006; monday
published in: d2y2 magazine / d2y2 online
url: walk his trail

walk his trail
by Cheryl Mohan

‘If I were in their shoes, would I be able to say yes, full heartedly to such a calling? Would I be able to have such solid-rock faith in God and boldly press on even though I know the odds are against me and Death is possibly my final pit stop?’

These were some of the questions that were left hanging in the back of my mind as I stepped out of the hall together with my friends.

Directed and produced by Colin Kirton, Walk His Trail gives us a glimpse of what true courage and purpose can do. Based on the best-selling now-classic books “Through Gates of Splendour” and “Shadow of the Almighty” written by Elliot’s widow Elisabeth Elliot, Walk His Trail not only reveals to us the trials and hardships that the five young and determined missionaries, Jim Elliot, Pete Fleming, Ed McCully, Nate Saint and Roger Youderian—together with their wives—had to face when they tried to reach the Waodani (“Auca”) Indians living in the jungles of Ecuador with the gospel in 1956 but it also shows us the reality that missionary work is not just another feel-good work but it requires commitment and readiness to follow whole-heartedly after the will of God and to trust in Him, even till death.

Walk His Trail

The props were simple, nothing fancy. The video clips aired throughout the show were there as evidence, reminding us that this is no Hollywood-drama story made to tease and stir your emotions. The Footstool Players brilliantly accentuated every little detail of the production—my heart gripped with sorrow during the scene when the missionaries had to walk away from their wives and when they were repeatedly stabbed with spears, both scenes enacted in slow motion. Walk His TrailBut even all that could not do full justice to the exact feelings of these missionaries and their families during those difficult times. Although those young men were murdered within days of their first attempt to connect to the Waodani tribe, nevertheless their labour was not in vain as over time, Elisabeth Elliot and Rachel Saint (Nate’s sister) succeeded in bringing the gospel to them. Today, not only is the tribe transformed but the missionaries now considers the Waodanies who murdered their loved ones as their own family.

I walked out of the hall thanking God in my heart for the selfless and courageous act of these fine young men, for their story, without doubt, is a testament of God’s faithful hand working through each and every situation, even in the midst of tragedy. Their lives, left in the will of God, now shares the truth that there is power in the gospel to love, forgive, change lives and set people free. Walk His Trail

About the author: Cheryl loves the sight of lightning flashing through her window and the sound of thunder. She prefers eating her chocolate when it is melted.

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think: no limits

here’s the one and only feature story i did for THINK when i interned with them for three months, from mid nov 05-mid feb 06.

as this was my very first field work experience and i was all alone, it was quite exciting yet scary as well. thank God i found much favour. Nala from KLPAC was really helpful and i got the opportunity to learn about reporting from ex-newscaster Ras Adiba who was present at the workshop.

it took me quite awhile to write out the article tho.

but at the end of it all, it really wasn’t that bad… i think

____________________

 

date: january 2006
published in: think online
url: no limits

No Limits

A cool draught blows across the packed hall. Rows of foldable chairs and black curtains hang from the ceiling at the Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre.

Within seconds, the room is pitch-black. A musical strain intensifies, and a faint ray of light emerges at the left corner, lending an eerie air to Pentas 2. Slowly, a balding, disfigured image in a skin-coloured leotard snails its way beneath the hem of the curtains. She is crawling, gliding, rolling back and forth; struggling to make her way to the centre of the hard surface.

This was the opening scene—‘The Fetus in the Darkness’—of the performance entitled My Mother, by Taihen, the first performing arts group in the world made up purely of physically handicapped people.

div1

Manri Kim“I prefer to use the word ‘metamorphosis’ to define Taihen,” explains the troupe’s Korean-Japanese artistic director and chief headliner Manri Kim.

The word taihen is in fact a deformation of the Japanese word hentai, which means queer. But for the 53-year-old Kim, it appears that physically able people sometimes need a bit of mental readjustment. “Society needs to break free from their fixed mindset that if a person is severely disabled, it means that person cannot do anything and needs support in everything.”

From a young age, Kim often mimicked the performance of mother Honju Kim, a Korean traditional dance artiste who actively performed during World War II in Japan. She was the anointed successor—until she contracted polio at the age of three, leaving her severely disabled. She was then sent to a home for disabled children at seven, and stayed there for the next 10 years.

It was here that Kim honed a fierce resolve to be more than just a social white elephant. “My mother and teachers had the mindset that it would be hard for a person with a severe disability to blend in with the public. I was determined to prove them wrong.”

Together with her similarly disabled friends, Kim decided to learn to live as an independent, contributing member of society. She went from college to college with her comrades, handing out flyers and seeking volunteers who would be willing to support and help the group.

“The movement was based on the idea that you didn’t have to be specially trained to take care of a disabled person,” she says. “Anyone and everyone can and should be a helper or supporter of the disabled.”

It was a cry of freedom. A statement of strength. It carried the message that despite your limitations, you can help yourself and others around you. And Kim was not alone.

BIGGER THAN THEIR BODIES
At 18, Peter Tan was diving at a swimming pool when he broke his neck. The accident left him with an injury to the spinal cord, and Tan was left paralysed from the chest down. Soon after, his mum was diagnosed with cancer and was referred to Rumah Hospice for more than a month before she died.

Tan remained resilient however. “After my mom passed away, I explored ways that I could help the hospice. These were people who gave hope when all hope looked lost.”

Immersing himself in numerous charitable organisations such as the Independent Living for People with Disabilities and the Japan International Cooperation Agency, Tan hasn’t looked back since. Now a popular blogger, the 39-year-old Penangite recently shaved his flowing long hair to raise funds for the Hospice-At-Home Programme at Rumah Hospice. Together with four other friends, they pledged to shave their heads for a donation of RM5,000. To their delight, they raised slightly more than the targeted amount.

Another person who has risen above her plight is Yvonne Foong, a 19-year-old diagnosed with neurofibromatosis type 2—a genetic disorder that causes tumours to grow in her brain, spine, and along various nerves. Together with her friend John Ling, they have both embarked on a mission to encourage creative writing in the nation.

“Whenever we come across any aspiring writers or even people looking to get published, we encourage them wholeheartedly, offering advice and even helping out where our abilities are needed,” says Foong. Her website has even helped someone obtain a proper diagnosis of neurofibromatosis after his wife stumbled upon Foong’s blog. Her husband was spared from further complications, and they have become kindred friends ever since.

“Many people tend to look on people with disabilities as a group that needs help and welfare,” says Tan. “[But] given the right tools, support and a suitable environment, we surely are able to contribute more to society and help others who are in need.”

Manri KimFor a polio casualty, Kim is remarkably busy these days with Taihen. The ensemble was birthed in 1983 after Kim’s simple observation of the way each of her handicapped friends ate, talked and moved about.

“I became aware that every physical movement made by them was unique and different from each other. Although their mobility was restricted, they were still able to crawl, wriggle, squirm, walk, run and jump without aid. There was beauty and artistic form that went along with their supposed twisted and distorted body,” she describes.

Traveling to various parts of the world such as Kenya, Taiwan, Korea and Malaysia, Kim’s message is always the same: be proud of who you are. “Don’t be afraid to acknowledge that you are disabled,” she declares. “Don’t compare your body movements with someone who is ‘normal’. You can do what others can’t do. The more physically impaired you are, the more unique your movements can be.”

With a golden opportunity for physically handicapped individuals to express themselves and inspire others, people with cerebral palsy, spine tuberculosis, muscular dystrophy and other disabilities have jumped at the chance to demonstrate their passion and spirit. A dream once thought lost has been reignited.

As Foong puts it, encouragement has brought her past the stereotyping into a new level of confidence, best seen by the publishing of her autobiography I’m Not Sick, Just a Little Unwell. “Do buy my book when it’s published,” she says. “Even if you think the book is not good enough, at least it gives me a sense of accomplishment, that even a limited person like me can publish a book and sell it. It’s about giving us hope, directly or indirectly.”

div1

With only a malformed arm to assist her, Kim manoeuvers her lifeless legs and shapeless body. She rolls on the floor, using her mouth to move her legs by biting the toes, and her chin to push it around. She plays the Chinese drums by placing the drumsticks in between her crooked fingers. She proudly shows off every detail of her disability—from her twisted hip to her bent limbs—with only intermittent pauses in between acts.

As the fifth and final scene closes, Kim takes a bow from her sitting position. Without hesitation, the crowd gives an awestruck standing ovation. Those who can’t stand, bound by the constraints of their wheelchair or walker, rain their own applause down, mesmerised by the sheer determination on display

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the sun’s u!: getting around town

this is actually my first published work.

i must say that 80 percent of the article has been heavily edited. but given it’s my first time, excusable lar…

____________________

date: december 20, 2005; tuesday
published in: theSun / Sun2Surf
url: getting around town

Getting around town
Cheryl Mohan

How do you go about choosing a university to enrol in?

You would probably figure out your area of interest, look at your budget and find a university that meets your requirements. Right?

Well, things are kinda different for me.

Ever since primary school, choosing my place of study has always been a challenge. Not that I had a criminal record or anything; it was simply a problem of mobility and convenience.

You see, I was born with cerebral palsy. It has affected my body coordination and motor skills – I rely on a walker to move around – and of course, to a certain extent, I am dependent on those around me.

Besides this little physical hiccup, I’m pretty much like any other girl. I’ve enjoyed every moment of my 21 years and I look forward to the years to come.

All of life’s ups and downs, the smiles and tears, joys and challenges have only made me a stronger and more daring person.

Back to my problem with deciding where to study.

Of course, the preferred choice of study and money is an issue; but there’s also the need for the institutions’ facilities being disabled-friendly. Sad to say, in Malaysia, this has always been a hindrance for me and many others like me.

When I was in school, toilets were the bane of my life. The doors were too narrow, there were no sitting-toilets and it was dirty and rather slippery. Thank goodness the school authorities were sympathetic enough to allow me to use the teachers’ toilet. It. at least, was wide, clean, dry, well-lit and came equipped with a sitting-toilet.

Stairs are also a nuisance. Since I’m able to slowly climb them I don’t really mind so long as it has a railing. But I do admit that stairs are a pain.

In Standard One, I informed my teacher with great determination that I would someday be a policewoman. By the time I was 10, it dawned on me that this was a little unrealistic as I needed both hands to use my walker and well, how would I hold a gun?

That was when I began to realise that I didn’t have the freedom to choose a career just because I liked it. It would have to be something convenient for me, but still pay enough.

Well I could sulk about it, or make the best of what was available to me.

By trial and error I explored my options. Thankfully, I found something I was passionate about that I could make my career – writing. So, I took up a degree in communications at Monash University, and I’m now in my final year.

Getting around Monash U isn’t that much of a problem. Sure it lacks state-of-the-art facilities for the disabled, but it has the necessary basics like ramps, lifts and toilets for the handicapped. All these ease the burden and help make life easier. Hey, if you look around there are a few other students in wheelchairs and they get around just fine.

The truth is, I soon had another worry. I’ve never really had much problem mingling and making friends, but university life was a whole new scary phase. How would the people look at me? Would I be accepted? Would I be able to get along with my lecturers and friends? How am I going to cope with the workload and assignments? Would I be able to do my research and fulfil the university requirements? All these questions spun round my mind and the fear kept me awake ‘o’ nights.

And it was difficult. For the first two months, I found it rather hard to break the ice. University life is certainly different. It’s not like high school where you are with your classmates for practically the entire day.

Everyone has their own little sphere in which they move. Some you see more frequently than others, some you only see from afar. Others you bumped into occasionally, or almost never.

But finally, the ice melted and things changed for the better. I managed to click with many of my peers and I found that my disability was and has never been an issue around them. They have never grown tired of offering help. Occasionally even strangers would tell me, “please, let me help you with your school bag.”

The lecturers here are wonderful – they’re just a call or SMS away and are ever willing to help out.

For people like these, I am grateful and thank God for them.

University life has taught me to be mature and independent. Independent not only as a means of survival, but also independent in the way I think. I’ve learnt that what matters most is how I look at myself, and not what others think of me.

I now view life as a series of challenges. Each challenge can either break me or build me – depending on my choice. For me, giving up will never be an option.

My life will be beautiful, because I choose to make it so.

What Cheryl’s Buddies have to say

 

Name: Yap Jin Yao, 20
(Course & Campus: B.Comm at Monash University)
He says: I’m her beast of burden, ‘cos I’m the strongest! Course la… I’m the only guy what.

 

 

Name: Debbie Ng, 20
(Course & Campus: B.Comm at Monash University)
She says: Hanging out with her in class is great – she trips the lecturers up with her walker! *evil grin*.

 

 

 

Name: Goh Kel Li, 20
(Course & Campus: B.Comm at Monash University)
She says: I swear she’s made us all her slaves. Like she hires me as her jockey – to park her walker; and she never tips!

 

 

 

Name: Carrie Low, 20
(Course & Campus: B.Comm at Monash University)
She says: Official lift holder and lift evacuation officer reporting for duty sah!

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