Monday, June 27, 2022

YANG MI: I WOULD BE GLAD TO BE LOVED FOR MY MONEY, FOR I HAVE LOTS OF IT

To the non-Chinese speaking world, Yang Mi 杨幂 is not a familiar name.

From her photos, one will be forgiven for mistaking Yang Mi as an airhead who earned her fame and fortune by looks and luck. 

Not so.  Yang Mi is astonishingly accomplished. Her glamourous image belies her professional skills and business capabilities.

Starting out as a child actress, Yang Mi has starred in a string of hit shows that she has become a household name in China. Some of her acting roles include less popular but critically acclaimed shows.

Not only an outstanding actress, Yang Mi is also a successful producer and talent manager.  While in her 20s, she founded a talent agency, Jay Walk Studio 嘉行传媒 which has now become a multi-million dollar entertainment company.  Actors and actresses under her agency have gone on to become huge, famous top-line stars in their own right. Her company has produced several popular shows.

The 35-year-old is now very wealthy, not by windfall, but earned by shrewd decisions, risks taken, untold sacrifice and personal costs.

Last month (May 2022), Yang Mi said something which sparked social media reactions.  At the Chinese variety show, Mao Xue Wang 毛雪汪 (EP16), the host, probing her love-life, asked Yang Mi: Where does security in love come from?  She replied, from oneself.  She went on to add: "If the guy is good to me because of my wealth, I will be delighted with that, because I do have money."  [1]

毛不易: 恋爱中的安全感来自于哪?

杨幂:自身。 甚至就想说,如果他是因为我有钱跟我好的话,我可太开心了,因为我有钱。

What does she mean by that?  Is she bragging about her wealth?

Having accomplished much and become so fabulously rich by her age, Yang Mi is a woman in a league of her own whom few (men) can match.

I'm not surprised she would say such things and think in such a way.

If we put aside her seeming audacious tone, I think you will see that her reasoning is grounded on logic and realism.

People can be disappointing, untrustworthy and also heart-breaking. People and feelings are unreliable.

Money on the other hand, is tangible, sure and dependable. We know exactly what money can do and what money cannot do. Money can buy goods and services, and also loyalty and servitude.  Money cannot buy love, but it can buy lovers.

Men have been saying for decades that diamonds are a girl’s best friend. So why fault a woman for thinking to use her cash to make her man feel king?

I think Yang Mi’s candid words show her personal view that true love is a fairy tale: that one cannot reasonably expect a man to commit and stay just because of love – the guy needs more concrete reasons to stick around. 

Rather than aiming to find a man who would love her for who she is inside of her skin, she will be happy with (to settle for?) someone who is willing to be with her (to put up with her?) in return for a slice of her wealth and the good life that come with it. 

In her worldview, the reachable and realistic aim is for a transactional relationship.  So, if the guy loves her because of her money, she would be very glad, because she has lots of it.

Is there even such a thing as true, unconditional love? Or is true love a wished-for fantasy, non-existent in reality?

Well, I'd like to believe that true love exists - that one can love and commit to another, not caring whether the other is a prince or a pauper, in sickness and in health as the adage goes.

But perhaps true love is not so easy to find.  Many have given up the search.

If there is any truth in the suspicion that true love, though it exists, is elusive to most, even more so to extraordinarily capable and exceptionally successful women like Yang Mi, then one cannot fault such a woman for putting faith in her money, rather than in the heart of her man.



[1] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U1JveWzD5RU

Wednesday, May 4, 2022

Ascending The Monument

The Challenge: Climb 311 steps to the top of the tower - or so I thought. 

Standing 62 metres / 203 feet tall, the 'Monument to the Great Fire of London' is a fluted Doric column located in Central London, built between 1671 to 1677.

311 steps? No biggee. I climb the slopes of Bukit Timah Nature Reserve regularly. I paid the entrance fee of £5.80 and proceeded.  (The date was Sunday, 1 May 2022.) 

Little did I know what I had signed myself up for. 

The stairwell was a narrow tube containing a spiral staircase, just wide enough for one other person to brush past you. 

Very soon, I began to feel like I was walking up an endless curl, churning indefinitely. 

How long more to the top? I began to wonder. Instinctively, I looked up: only to see stairs spiralling upwards with no endpoint in sight. Big mistake. Panic rattled the doorknob of my mind, trying to enter. I fought a desire to quit and turn back down. 

I pressed on, but it seemed like I was climbing a forever spiral, walking up ascending circles indefinitely. It was surreal. It felt like I was looping a spiral version of the Penrose stairs. Claustrophobia was now nipping at my heels. 

To escape claustrophobia, I eyed the walls, looking for a window to the sky. Instead, I saw elongated windows like slits in the cylinder walls, so narrow that it was hard to see the outside. Distorted windows that promised but obscured view of the outside, added a sense of desperation. 

I stopped to catch my breath. 

Dotting the spiral column were climbers like me making their way up, even as others were making their way down. The muted din of their chatter was a comforting white noise. I sought to breathe in the air of their enthusiasm. 

A man a few steps below me on the opposite saw my hesitation. He caught my eye and said affirmatively, "You can do it!" His timely encouragement billowed my sails. Spurred, I determined to finish the climb. I had come this far. The only choice was to reach the top. I took a deep breath and then pounded up the remaining steps for the final assault. 

Yes, I did reach the top - winded, dizzy and somewhat daunted. 

I staggered to the parapet to wave to my husband and son who were on the ground looking out for me. 

I felt no joy at topping the tower, but dread that I had to go back into the darn tube to get back to the ground.

To get myself down, I decided to count the 311 steps aloud to myself as I descended. I figured that doing a countdown would give me the mental assurance that the curl will end eventually. That was how I made it through the narrow tube back to the ground without panicking. 

Who knew that the challenge was not about finishing a climb of 311 steps. The real challenge was to complete the journey of travelling up a high, mentally uncomfortable vertical tunnel. It was not a test of physical fitness but of mental fortitude. 

When climbing 10 storeys of a building, you would walk up straight flights of stairs, going one way and then the opposite way, usually wide enough for three people to walk abreast. Not to mention, there will be exit doors at every floor. That is not the case when ascending a 60 metre spiral staircase inside a narrow tube.

Did I enjoy the experience? Nope, it was scary. 

Would I do it again? Absolutely not!