Weakness evaluation and goals

After having just completed the first leg of the tournament tour, I wanted to make an identification of my weaknesses and set some immediate goals for the near future.

By far the biggest weakness that I noticed was my lack of concentration. In many games I would just outright miss an obvious reply from my opponent, I would also play far too fast and there were multiple instances where I would make a move automatically but then immediately see a better one afterwards. I certainly need to fix this by concentrating more on the game and not focusing so much on events off the board. I was also far too impatient in the endgame phases of my games, and played too fast and without much thought, I need to fix this by treating the endgame with the same respect and importance as the other phases of the game.

My goals for the near future are to:

1. Think twice about every move I make and consider my opponent's strongest reply
2. Work more on my endgame and be more patient in the endgame phase of the game

My next milestone in chess would be reaching a rating of 2100 FIDE.

Tournaments, tournaments, tournaments!

I am currently sitting in a Cafe in San Francisco, 2 days away from my first major tournament in what will be the most rigorous chess tournament schedule I've done in my life so far!

From June 21st until August 26th 2018 I will be playing in the:

1.  National Open Las Vegas
2. Philadelphia International Open
3. World Open Philadelphia
4. Biel International Chess Festival
5. 15th IGB Dato' Arthur Tan Malaysia Open Chess Championship

 It will be tough, but the experience is necessary to propel me forwards on my journey towards chess mastery (2200 FIDE). I will write about my experiences after I come back from Malaysia and prepare to return to my studies in the US!

I will try my best, I will learn from all my games, and most of all, I will enjoy the battle!

The grind continues....

Beware the Ego

Out of sheer boredom, I found myself doing some random Google searches on prominent people. As one does, I came across Bill Gate's Wikipedia page. It read: "Bill Gates is an American Business Magnate, investor, author, philanthropist, humanitarian, and principal founder of Microsoft Corporation."

Upon seeing this, I thought to myself: gee, if only I could have that kind of description on my Wikipedia page when I'm older.
But then I realized something, this wasn't something I wanted, it was what my ego wanted.

The ego (not the psychoanalytical kind), classified by Google as: "a person's sense of self-esteem or self-importance," is arguably one of the most critical aspects of the human condition. The ego is a multifaceted emotional trait, it can at times be a tremendous motivator, but conversely, it can have a negative impact on social relationships and mental well-being.

The ego provides a necessary drive in our lives - it is, for the most part, what gets us out of bed. If we had no self-esteem, I reckon we'd be very hard pressed to leave the house and enter the big wide world. It's perfectly natural to be overly concerned with ourselves, because after all, the world, or more accurately, our perception of the world, is that it revolves around us; a person's experience is shaped through their eyes, so narcissism comes more naturally to us than empathy does.

But the ego certainly has its drawbacks, because as we all know, we love comparing ourselves. If you're active on any social media platform, you'll be well aware of this. As a photographer, it is a common occurrence that upon being smitten by my own photography, I would immediately be humbled after taking a trip through the Instagrams of various other photographers (who I shall not name!).

Technology hasn't helped, the social media platforms Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, etc. Have cultivated a culture of narcissism and self-absorption of the likes "which has never been seen on this earth,"  to quote Harry Truman. This makes it all the more challenging to avoid the detrimental effects of the ego. 

But in spite of the selfies, 'stories', and unnecessary life updates - we also feed our egos indirectly. I always recommend movies to people, and I recall many times where they would get back to me and tell me how good the film was, and this would give me a sense of accomplishment. I had nothing to do with the film, but because I had recommended it, I felt responsible for it somehow.

But the ego can be good, because it makes us competitive. The former chess world champion Bobby Fischer has been quoted as saying that he likes "the moment when I break a man's ego." As a chess player myself, it's a great feeling when your opponent realizes their situation and you begin to see the slight shake of the head, the barely noticeable sigh, and finally, the handshake. It is an unfortunate truth, but we like to see others fail, or more accurately, the destruction of other people's egos, because it provides a positive reference point for our own.

But to succeed in chess (or anything for that matter), one has to be wary of the ego. I remember competing in the 2017 Thailand Junior Chess Championship - I was completely winning against my closest rival, and I had the tournament in my hands, but then thoughts of winning the championship and being the THAILAND JUNIOR CHESS CHAMPION! Started to enter my head and surprise surprise, I made a move which lost the game immediately.
That moment damaged any sense of self-esteem I had regarding chess and my mental resolve - but it made me stronger, and in all subsequent chess games I simply focused on playing the best moves, and not envisioning future scenarios which would serve only to appeal to my ego. The result? Finishing tied for 3rd place out of 30 players at the Asian Indoor Games Qualification.
Why did I play better? Because I was no longer fueled by titles and ratings, but by my intrinsic love for the game.

I'll sum it up with a story from a summer in Norway. It was a cold, overcast day in the sleepy arctic town of Tromsø. My family and I were there to witness the 2014 Chess Olympiad, which proved to be underwhelming in comparison to the ethereal Fjords and scenic train rides - but that's another story.
I was playing a casual game of chess with a young twenty-something local in the lobby of the hotel where we were staying.
His friend or him (I can't recall) asked me how strong I was in chess, I remember grimacing and telling him that I was decent, but not that strong compared to other people. He smiled and told me something which has stuck with me since that day: "Don't compare yourself to others, but to the person you were yesterday."

Ever since then, that statement pops into my head like a kettle drum whenever I catch myself drifting into vain thoughts of self-admiration, or drawing illogical comparisons which can only serve to dishearten me. But comparing ourselves to others is a part of being human - because the ego makes us competitive, it makes us strive for greater achievement, but it also harms relationships and nurtures a mindset of perpetual dissatisfaction.

So what can we do? We can internalize the ego, we can control and harness the power that it provides in the form of confidence and perseverance, but be wary when it starts to distort the perceptions we have of ourselves and encroach on the judgments and choices we make.

Embrace the ego, but also, beware the ego.

Order in Chaos

Relatively recently, I finished the book "Flow" by Mihaly Csikzentmihalyi.
In the book, he proposes the concept that the human mind in its natural state is chaotic, meaning a jumble of thoughts and emotions. How many times have you been doing a certain activity and something completely unrelated to it just pops into your head? Our minds wander all the time, this is natural.
The human experience is complex to say the least, we have to deal with our own petty little problems while also accepting the infinite complexity and crushing indifference of the universe.

As a chess player, I can certainly apply my personal experience to this.
Chess provides a good limit of such complexities. By constraining our consciousness to 64 checkered squares, we can allow ourselves to forget about such things as the receding arctic sea ice, the fact that we may have to stop eating fish as they are consuming the plastic which we throw into the ocean, and how much the IRS will tax us. Chess has definite rules, and this helps to simplify and organize life for us. When I entered my gap year in 2016, I decided to occupy my overabundance of free time with chess, and that was ultimately for the better as I can’t imagine how my mind would’ve reacted to the overwhelming freedom and inactivity granted by a gap year.
But it’s not only chess which can provide a cognitive haven for people, we see it everyday in the systems which we operate in. The military is an ideal example, they bring order into people’s lives, and from what I know it is not uncommon for veterans to feel a sense of dissonance when they have to return to the aimless nature of civilian life in comparison to the rigid and clear cut environment of the military.

Even in schools, I find as a current university and former high school student that we very much live in these systemic bubbles when we are students. My biggest worries last quarter of my university were to get this project done, to get that project done, and these things would consume my mind to the point where any other worries would become negligible, the educational system provided and continues to provide a necessary focus for me - you don't really have time to worry about the fact that you are 14,906 kilometers (9262 miles) from home when that design project is due tomorrow.
But when the winter break rolled in, I was again met with an abundance of free time. I remember feeling an undeniable sense of discordance, so it was no surprise that I ventured again down the rabbit hole of chess and played in two tournaments. Of course, this was because of my love for the game, but on a more psychoanalytical level it was to achieve order among chaos, which was what my mind would have fallen into had I done nothing over my month and a half long winter break (isn’t that long?).

A great example of a mind consumed by chaos were my last two years of high school. These were arguably the worst two years of my life (so far hopefully). I could never properly adjust myself to fit into the system of the International Baccalaureate, refusing to accept that I had priorities that were very real. I would spend nights upon nights binge watching YouTube videos or playing hundreds of 1-minute chess games. The result? A rejection from all my universities. This is an ideal example of a mind in chaos, where even arguably the most rigorous high school education system (the International Baccalaureate) could not save it.

Who was to blame? Me and only me. But credit has to be given where credit is due, and the internet deserves a little credit.

The internet has certainly made us more susceptible to falling into our natural state of aimless cognitive meandering. I often have up to 20 tabs open, and switch constantly between them. If something is taking too long to open on my laptop, I pull out my phone and begin browsing various social media platforms. When you can switch from typing up that essay to watching a YouTube video in a couple of key strokes, then that's certainly opening up the door for cognitive disorganization.
The internet has no doubt changed the world for the better, but it has also magnified the already chaotic state of the human mind.     

Games, jobs, duties - systems keep us busy and distracted from the chaotic complexity of life and our thoughts. Is this for the better? Well they have been what has allowed us to achieve what we have, so of course it is. But take a moment to appreciate the little things as well, like the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, the ages and backgrounds of the eclectic mix of individuals walking around Times Square, the way the sunlight shines through the canopy of the trees in the forest, but not too much - you still have work on Monday!

Connecting...

The aftermath of a 6 day chess tournament is never pretty. I was slumped in the seat, waiting

for the plane to take off. It was a 2 hour flight to Bangkok from Kuala Lumpur.

I had made the rather stupid decision to take two flights: one from Johor Bahru to Kuala Lumpur, then another from Kuala Lumpur to Bangkok, what I didn’t realize was that Johor was right on the border of Singapore (which is a tiny island), so I could’ve just taken a car to Singapore’s international airport: Changi, then a flight from there to Bangkok – but I guess you learn from your mistakes.

This was my second flight of the day. Upon departing the hotel at 4:30AM, I missed my first flight (they had rescheduled it), and had to book a new one. After flying to Kuala Lumpur, I spent 3 hours in KLIA (Kuala Lumpur international airport), waiting for the last flight to Bangkok.

But finally, I was going home. 

A woman was sitting next to me, I had noticed that she was the mother of a family, they were split up, the father and the two daughters were sitting on the other side of the aisle, and the mother was stuck on the right side with me.

I had noticed the family before when boarding the plane as they spoke with distinct American accents - you tend to notice such things when you’re in any country that’s not the
United States.  

I took out my iPad and began going over variations in my favorite openings. The mother took notice:
“You play?” she asked in a friendly manner. I answered "yes," in my usual monotone voice.

“My daughter plays too” she said, gesturing towards her daughter sitting on the other side of
the aisle.

“Really?”

“Yes, she plays with me.”

Then I asked her whether her daughter had a FIDE rating.

“What’s that?”

“A World Chess Federation rating”

“No, she doesn’t, do you?”

“Yes”

“Hey Tina, he plays chess!”

The daughter’s head popped out from behind her sister and uttered an enthusiastic: “Really!?”

“Yeah, he’s ranked by the world chess federation!”

They then engaged in the usual familial rapport about whether to switch seats, there was some scuffling, but then before I knew it the daughter was sitting next to me.

“So you play chess?” she asked.

“Yeah, competitively” I said tiredly.

We ended up playing several games on the iPad. She was a beginner, so whenever she made a serious error I would let her take it back and suggest to her that she had a better move. During our last game I let her take back almost every move until the point where I was losing, so I stopped letting her take back moves after that.

After we stopped playing, she asked me: “Do you remember the first flight you took?”

Seeing as the current one was my seventeenth flight of the year, I was rather confused, “No, I must have been… one or something, how about you?”

“Yeah, this year!”

I was shocked, then asked how she got around before.

With a smile, “we…just drove.”

Then I asked her if she had ever been to any other countries. She said this was the first time she'd been out of the United States. She told me that in their layover in Japan, she was shocked by how the signs were in a different language.

They were from Fort Wayne, Indiana. Coincidentally, my American relatives were from Indiana as well, specifically North Manchester, which I later found out to be only 56 Kilometers or so from Fort Wayne.

We discussed many things - she was in her last year of high school, and had been accepted to Purdue University, where she would be studying biomedical engineering.

It was enlightening to see the differences in our lives: she spent her summers working at a “place where they make satellites,” and said that all the money that she made went back to her family to support her. In contrast, I spent my summers traveling to Europe and relaxing at home.

I asked her why her family was travelling to Asia all of a sudden, she said it was to visit her father’s relatives in Singapore.

“Why are you going to Thailand?”

“My mother used to live there, also my step sister lives in Pattaya”

I was even more amazed, since Pattaya was like my second home.

“You’ll… find it interesting” I said, not eager to tell her about the numerous Go-go bars and prostitutes that were characteristic of Pattaya.

As I was amazed that she’d never flown before, she was amazed that I’d never had a job.

“Things are different in Thailand” I told her, then went on to explain about how the pay was astronomically low and that the social stratum was vastly more defined than in the United States.

It was an enlightening conversation. I could not have expected meeting such a person on a flight between Kuala Lumpur and Bangkok.

As the landing gear began to come out, she asked her mother what the sound was.
As the cabin rumbled and shook as the wheels met the tarmac - she closed her eyes and appeared visibly anxious, a humorous contrast to me, who was still speaking with her casually.

As the seat belt sign switched off and we began to retrieve our bags from the overhead compartments, I asked her what her name was:

“Tina.”

“Matthew,” I said as I shook her hand. “If you ever want to play chess online, there’s a website called chess.com, you can get an account for free, my username is sco-ish.”

“What is it?”

“sco-ish, S, C, O, hyphen, I, S, H”

She nodded enthusiastically.

I last saw her on the walkway standing with her father and sister, waiting for the mother presumably. I waved at her: “Bye Tina.”

“Bye!” she said.

It wasn’t until many weeks later that I came to deeply regret not exchanging more details. In a world where it is so easy to connect with people, it was a mistake not to at least get an E-Mail or Facebook, or even a surname, and all she had from me was my chess.com username.

What are the chances I would end up sitting with her? Had her mother decided not to move, had I been smarter and booked a direct flight from Singapore to Bangkok, had I decided to book a different time or a different seat, had I decided not to play in that chess tournament in Malaysia, had my university not been one of the few ones to start winter break early (Nov 17), had she not played chess, had she not at that specific time been travelling out of the country for the first time in her life - seven chances to lead to this meeting. 

Maybe I’m just over-dramatizing things, I’ve always been a sucker for those melancholic moments in life.

But Tina, if you’re out there and see this, then perhaps we can meet again – here’s to those exceptionally rare moments in life when we meet such great people by pure chance.

P.S. I hope you get that chess.com account!

Year in Review

As the last hours of 2017 draw to a close, I feel an intense need to write down my final thoughts on the year before it ends forever. 

At the beginning of 2017, I wrote down a sticky note on my desktop computer, listing down 16 resolutions for it.
I won't post that here as most of them were not accomplished, but I imagine that is usually the case. 

But I can say that 2017 was the best year of my life, it really was a unique, special year for me, and for many reasons. 

I began 2017 as a gap year. After being rejected from all my universities in 2016 (after a lackluster High School career), I had reapplied to five of them (with another one included), and was in the same situation as I was in last year. 

But this was different of course, last year I was preoccupied with completing the International Baccalaureate program, this year I had a stupid amount of free time. 

I planned to play chess.

I had made a vow to myself at the beginning of 2017, that I would work on chess harder than I've ever worked on anything in my life, and that I would prove that hard work pays off - something which I'd never done during high school.

So I trained everyday. I worked on all three aspects of the game, the opening, the middle-game, and the endgame. I supplemented this with physical exercise, by running at the park every week. 

With so much free time, I could finally dedicate myself 100% to something which I was passionate about. In a way, it was like I was conducting an experiment on myself, an experiment to test my mental fortitude and to see how far I could go in something which I was fully committed to. 

In my first standard chess game tournaments of the year, I did not perform well. I lost rating points, and spoiled many winning positions. I lost the Thailand Junior Chess Championship by a hair string, and also butchered a winning position against a strong International Master from the Philippines. 

But these events, although painful, made me stronger. I took a different attitude towards chess, I did not place so much pressure on myself, and focused on identifying my weak points and analyzing my losses. 

The results came. I placed high in the rankings of the next few tournaments I played in, and defeated some strong players. I achieved third place in the qualification for the Asian Indoor Games Rapid portion, and in doing so, unwittingly qualified to train with the Thai national team, which was being coached by a strong Grandmaster (GM) from Armenia.

I didn't qualify to play for the national team (which I wouldn't have been able to play for anyways as the tournament would be during my university term) but qualified to be a 'reserve' player, which meant that I could train with the team, but just couldn't accompany them to Turkmenistan for the competition.

But it was more than enough. My experience training with the eminent Grandmaster proved to be invaluable to both my chess skills and my character. 

He emphasized the importance of physical exercise as a way to clear our minds of frustration, not only in chess, but also in life. At the end of each day of training we would go for a run, followed by some push ups and planks.
He also taught me the importance of happiness, and that we must pursue what makes us happy or else there is no point (cliched I know, but for a reason). It was also amazing to see someone who was so accomplished with such a humble attitude, and if someone met him they would think that he was a healthy, carefree individual with a positive outlook on life, and not one of the best chess players on earth. 

In training with him, I crossed the 2000 rating barrier in chess, something which I had never done before. 

But you've probably already stopped reading, so let me wrap it up.

In 2017 I:

1. Made the most money I had ever made (only through chess)
2. Achieved an all time high FIDE (World Chess Federation) rating
3. Entered the top 10 of Thailand (for chess) for the first time in my life
4. Got to train with a world class chess Grandmaster for 3 months
5. Defeated the highest rated chess player who I've beaten. 
5. Traveled to 5 countries in 3 different continents. 
6. Flew 19 times
7. Got into a University! 
8. Started a film blog
9. Read 4 books (not counting chess and Uni books)
10. Learnt how to drive
11. Affirmed to myself my grit and ability to work hard, as well as empirically confirmed that hard work pays off (and in the best way possible in my case)

And the beautiful thing is that I never expected anything like this. I just started the year off with a simple motto - that I would work like I'd never worked before. Through my experiences this year, I've achieved a level of confidence and self belief that I've never had in my life, and most importantly, I am fulfilled, and in retrospect, am euphoric over what an eventful gap year I've had.

Thank you to my family and friends for making this a great one.

I look forward to 2018.

- Matt, Bangkok

Winter Break

I am currently sitting at the Miyakori Coffee shop on the 5th floor of Johor Bahru City Square, having just finished playing the final round of the Johor International Open Chess tournament. I did OK, I scored 5/9 against a majority rated over 2200 opposition. Having not seriously practiced any chess for nearly 4 months, I think that’s pretty decent. 

It was a little jarring, at the beginning of the tournament I was concerned with minimizing my rating damage, but it turns out that by the end of my tournament tour I gained a net total of 4 rating points. 

One shouldn’t care about the rating anyways, but I would be lying if I said that it wasn’t satisfying to see that plus.

There were the usual signs of rust - visualizing positions incorrectly, forgetting opening lines, and blundering pieces (this happened to me twice against low rated players). But I am glad to say that I overcame this with strong performances when they were needed, the necessary mental resolve, and a newfound confidence - thanks to the invaluable experience which I gained from training with Grandmaster Avetik Grigoryan.

I did lie a little when I said that I wouldn’t care if I lost to someone born in 2000 something - since I did, and it did not feel good, but there’s a silver lining to everything, since I performed well by the end of the tournament. 

So now comes Christmas, and the chance to pass my driving test, be with my family, and to watch Star Wars!

I fly back to Savannah, Georgia on the 5th of January 2018. I look forward to meeting new people, living my second existence as a college filmmaker, and running forward on the moving walkway that is life. 

Back (Always) in the Grind

SCAD's (The Savannah College of Art & Design) winter break began Nov 17, that's incredibly fast for a university to begin its winter break. 

It was a long time to get here, a 4 hour bus ride to Atlanta, followed by a 14 hour flight over the polar ice caps to Incheon, then a 5 hr flight to Bangkok.

So here I am.

With the Thailand Team Championship starting tomorrow. 

I won't lie, I'm a little bit scared, since I haven't really practiced for over 4 months.

Going to an arts school and playing chess is a little strange, since they are such distinct activities. 

At SCAD, I was concerned with whether my drawing had a realistic qualities and whether I had used the MLA citation format properly. 

Now, my priorities are fixing the holes in my black repertoire vs 1.d4.

I will admit, my interest in the game waned somewhat. The weekly meetings at the local Savannah chess club (which I am eternally grateful for) were great to maintain my OTB (over the board) strength, but still, playing 5 minute blitz can't compare to playing competitively in rated tournaments.

But I shouldn't be scared. I should be excited, excited for the fact that I will get to indulge in a mentally stimulating, unprecedentedly complex board game.
No, my ego has been destroyed and rebuilt too many times for me to worry about losing to somebody born in 2000-something, there are bigger things in life to worry about.

I initially saw this return to the game as going 'back to the grind', but then I thought, aren't we always in the grind? 

Once we realize that, we can be free from the programming of 'working' and 'relaxing'. 

There is no such thing.

Life is a perpetual grind. 

Lets go. 

8 Answers for the Liebster Award (for Wordpress)

1. Do you believe in ghosts?
No, but I wouldn't spend a single night in the Amityville house.

2. What is your least favourite colour?
If I had to pick I'd say Brown

3. Describe where you’d be in 10 years.
Creating something that I am passionate about

4. How important is exercise to you?
Very, I always feel horrible when I don't get enough of it.

5. What is your relationship with food?
Love it, when it's consumed in a a reasonable matter of course

6. What is your preferred social media platform?
YouTube (does that count?)

7. Why do you blog?
To practice my writing/grammatical skills, and to develop my own voice.

8. What motivates you to get up everyday?
It's the hunger, the hunger for the interminable possibilities of life, and the refusal to accept a vapid existence

The Bartender

The air is thick with the scent of cigarettes. He is no stranger to it, it is a typical aroma in this town.

The pianist on the small platform at the end of the room plays a slow, rhythmic piece. His notes are punctuated by the laughter of a group of businessmen huddled in the corner, cracking jokes amongst each other as they take lengthy puffs from their Embassy Filters.  

He rubs the surface of the oak bar with a linen cloth, wiping away the random drops of liquor leftover from the glasses of earlier clients. Over a white shirt he wears a black vest and a red tie, his hair is slicked back, and his composure is firm.  

Two old timers sit at opposite ends of the bar. One of them gets up and leaves a crumpled dollar bill, glass nearly empty.

 

He takes the bill and empties the left-over gin, then proceeds to wipe the glass clean with a linen cloth.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees a figure approaching the bar. He turns to see a woman wearing a dark business suit. Her eyes are rimmed with stress. 

“What will it be?” He asks her as he rubs the glass dry. 

“Make it a screwdriver” she says as she takes a seat at the bar. 

He nods and places the now dry glass back onto the shelf. 

He grabs a new, narrow one, and fills it two thirds of the way up with ice cubes. He adds an ounce of Smirnoff and tops it off with a flush of fresh orange juice.  He stirs it healthily, then places it on a thin plate and brings it over to her.

“Enjoy," he says. 

“Thank you.” 

She stirs it a little bit more and takes a small sip, then lets out a soft sigh.

She continues to take minute sips from the glass, then pulls out a cigarette and searches for her lighter. 

“Ma’am?” He asks her as he slides one out from his breast pocket.

“Thanks.”

As he leans over to flick on the flame, he notices that she has on a thin layer of lipstick with a pair of round, dark earrings. There is a string of grey amidst her hair.

“Long day?” he asks as he pulls back. 

She smiles a little as she takes a lengthy drag from her filter. 

“You get used to it,” a small pause, “and you?”

 Her voice is tired but undeniably firm, it carries the ring of one which has been honed through countless hours of sycophantic corporate interactions.

He picks up a dry glass to wipe it. “The usual, a little quiet this time of the year.”

She nods, then turns to face the pianist, who has moved on to Gershwin’s Embraceable You. 

Her eyes reflect the pensive notes that begin to play out. One arm rests on the oak bar, and the other hangs off the edge of her chair. She lets the cigarette dangle between her fingers, he notices a diamond ring.

Maniacal laughter erupts from the corner; he turns to see the businessmen doubled over, banging on the table as their gaping mouths inhale the thick smoke of their cigarettes. 

They fade out of focus as he sees her head lean forward ever so slightly, as if drawn in by the music. 

Her shoulders loosen up, her eyes slowly slide shut.

The dim, warm light gives her contemplative face a statuesque touch. 

Amidst the stench of processed tobacco, he notices something – 

a sweet smell, like a luscious vapor which has sliced through the smoke. 

He follows the scent until it rests, undeniably, on her.

He puts the dry glass back into its place.

He hesitates for a second.

Then, as if forced by an invisible hand, he places his fist firmly on the polished, oak bar.

His vest stretches slightly as he leans forward towards her.

He closes his eyes and breathes in.

It is honey with a tinge of cinnamon, topped off with a trace of melted vanilla. It carries a warmth to it, like a fire being kindled in a cozy cabin in the snowy wilderness.

The sounds of the bar have faded away, the darkness is punctuated by a sole stream of light on the two of them.

As the scent flows through him, he sees a house in the countryside, far from the polluted tendrils of the city. 

He sees children running in the wheat fields as the setting sun floods the sky with a dazzling orange.

He sees smiling.

He sees a beaut—

He hears clapping.

He opens his eyes.

His vest loosens as he takes his clenched fist off the polished oak.

The darkness disappears, and the sounds of the bar fade back in.

The pianist plays out the last remaining notes of his piece, then whispers: "thank you," to the businessmen who are clapping their hands as they nod with approval.

He picks up the dry glass to continue wiping it. 

Her eyes slowly open as she raises her head to take one final puff from her cigarette, then she turns to face him. 

The ends of her lips go up lightly in an affable fashion, it is almost a smile. He returns the favor.

He watches her as she exits the hotel. As she disappears through the revolving doors, he picks up the linen cloth, wets it ever so slightly under the sink, then proceeds to wipe down the oak bar.

The Accountant (2016)

I recall sitting at a restaurant in a mall, slurping up a bowl of noodles. One hand holding chopsticks, the other my IPhone. It was a Tuesday night, and the place was almost empty as I remember it. I was scrolling through Facebook, as you do, thinking about what I was going to do the next day. I put down the phone to finish the bowl, but then felt a change in the atmosphere. The mall was nearly empty, which made it quiet – but it was as if it had gotten even quieter. I thought I heard a slight sniffle, I heard some muttering from the restaurant workers.

As I dreaded the worst, I pulled up my phone again, opened up Facebook, and saw a live stream of hundreds, if not thousands, of people; crying and mourning in front of the hospital where our King had been the past few years. I read the text above the livestream which proclaimed that the King of Thailand had died. 

Surreal, the first word that comes to mind. To experience an end on an era like this is literally a once in a lifetime opportunity. After paying the bill, I walked outside to see a sea of commuters flowing towards the subway entrance, every single one of them with their heads down and their eyes glued to their phones. Standing on top of the steps and seeing a sea of strangers most likely watching the same livestream as me felt like witnessing history. I gave myself a moment to feel the night wind against my skin, because I knew that a day like this would probably never come again in my life. The air was thick with sorrow; I could feel it, the calamity was almost tangible.

Two days later, I went to the cinema with my father. We entered the mall dressed in black, I was wearing a polo shirt and long pants. Very soon after the king’s passing, the government announced that everyone would have to wear somber colors in the coming days, weeks, and months. In other countries this might be frowned upon, but in Thailand this is perfectly normal. Before watching the film, we walked around the department store. Already they were capitalizing on the recent tragedy. We passed piles of black shirts, skirts, and all other manner of clothing, all attached with significant discounts — it was almost comical. The mall was nearly empty, it seemed no one was in the mood for shopping now, except for dark clothing of course.

As we walked to the theater; I couldn’t help but feel guilty. Here we were, enjoying ourselves after an undoubtedly monumental tragedy. But at least I knew that we could pay respects with the customary anthem before the movie. I saw a young couple who also looked rather remorseful, as if they were committing some kind of embarrassing crime. The cinema also had most of its lights turned off in light of the tragedy, which made it even worse. It was as if they were mocking us, telling us that we were indulging in our hedonistic pleasures despite the tragic stand still that the country was currently undergoing.

We entered the cinema and took our seats. Like the mall, it too was nearly empty, except for us and some other sorry people. The usual previews and advertisements began. I was looking forward to the film, but it seemed like the biggest emotional impact would instead be from what was going to undeniably come before it. Soon enough, the cue card faded onto the screen, telling us to stand up and pay respects to the king; something which I had been seeing for as long as I could remember. I could feel my body shaking as I stood up from the seat. My heart rate increased, I didn’t want it to, but couldn’t help it. The anthem started playing, and the usual animated slideshow depicting his achievements began. Usually I considered this part of the cinema going experience a chore. Something I wasn’t so keen on (who is after they’ve settled into their cushioned seats?) but still did out of respect of course. But now, seeing the pictures of him, with the anthem which I’d heard countless times playing in front of me, I couldn’t help but a feel an immense sense of pride.

In my eighteen years of living on this earth, I had not grasped the true magnitude of his impact on our country until that moment in the cinema, the day after his death. It was only when he was gone that I realized the extent of his legacy. I could feel the tears welling up inside of me, an immense pressure pushing against my face. I held them back, not wanting to embarrass myself. I stood as straight as I could, not wanting to disappoint. Now more than ever, I felt a profound sense of patriotism and obligation, to what or whom I don’t know; but the feeling was undeniable. King Rama 9 was someone who had reigned for 70 years and had contributed his life to his country. Someone who was undeniably great, in every sense of the word. My eyes focused, and my expression was solemn and steadfast, I would’ve saluted if I could.  As the chorus and orchestra swelled I felt my entire body react, as if a deep warm fire had been started within me. My chest weighed heavy and my eyes watered slightly as I struggled to hold back the tide of my emotions.  
Then suddenly, it was over; and the screen dimmed to black as the voices of the chorus faded away. We slumped back into our seats, silent. I certainly wasn’t ready for the film, which I had completely forgot about.

The anthem had not only nearly brought me to tears, but had also served as a catalyst for a sense of patriotism which I had never felt before in my life. It was a truly unique event, surreal in the sense that something that used to be so mundane had turned into a cathartic, sublime, and profound experience. Because it not only acted as a reminder of his monumental achievements, but also signified the end of an era. A historical event, a remarkable experience.

That would indeed, be the last time that I saw an anthem commemorating King Rama 9 in the cinema. I went overseas for two months, then found on my return to the cinema in Thailand, that the visuals had been changed to commemorate King Rama 9’s successor, King Rama 10. A sign that despite his death, life goes on, and as a new dawn arrives, the country must remain resolute.

Long Live the King.

Matt, Bangkok

The Phitsanulok Chess Open 2017 - A retrospective

I am currently sitting in a cafe opposite the Grand Riverside Hotel, the venue for the recently concluded Phitsanulok Open in - you guessed it - Phitsanulok, Thailand. It was a 7 round swiss, with a standard time control of 90 minutes with a 30 second increment from move 1. Two rounds a day save for the last day. Overall, I'm not thoroughly satisfied with my play, I lost many games which I really shouldn't have. Yesterday I lost both of my games, so I could barely sleep, but luckily the tournament ended on a good note for me as in the final round - out of a clearly worse position my opponent allowed me the luxury of checkmating him in 1 move. I've only analyzed two games from the tournament so far, but am deathly afraid to analyze the games which I lost, the engine already caused me enough suffering by pointing out that my play was far from ideal in a game which I won - so what would it say in a game which I lost!? However, there are some good things that I can say about my performance in this tournament. Following some advice from my coach, I did not observe any other games whilst playing my own. If you didn't know already, it is common in standard chess tournaments to walk around the playing hall and observe other player's games, this is normal considering that a standard chess game is usually 3 hours long. However, before this tournament, my coach had told me and other players on the team not to look at any other boards as this could disrupt our concentration. I managed to do this successfully, but trust me - the temptation was certainly there. I did walk around the playing hall, but instead of observing other games focused on keeping the current position of my game in my head instead, something else that our coach had recommended us to do. My review of this method of not observing other games- it works for sure; I found that I had higher concentration levels - this is only natural as you are really only playing 1 chess game. The thing is that if you see another chess position - even if you are not consciously thinking about it, your brain may be going over it subconsciously and this can have an adverse effect on your own game. However, I believe I was the only one who actually followed his advice as during the tournament I witnessed other players from the national team observing other games. Another pearl of advice that I can offer to other fellow chess players - DO NOT FORGET YOUR JACKET! I made the very unfortunate mistake of forgetting my jacket when I went off to the airport. This seemingly small blunder would turn out to have drastic consequences for me. During multiple games it got so cold that I couldn't think properly and my play was certainly hindered. It is not such a pleasant feeling when you have less than a minute on the clock and your heart is beating at 100 miles per hour and its 18 degrees Celsius in the playing hall. Luckily I had my raincoat so I ended up wearing that, but even that did not work nearly as well as a proper jacket and I looked ridiculous wearing this huge neon blue raincoat in a hotel ballroom. So note to all chess players, proper regulation of your body temperature is very important! You do not want to be shaking from freezing temperatures when your position is critical!

Now, to criticize my play on the chess board:

I can clearly point out two things which need improving; firstly, my endgame technique. Almost all of the games which I lost stemmed from improper knowledge of endings. I'm not surprised as endgames have been the most neglected part of my personal chess study. Secondly - considering opponent's counter-play. In one game I completely overlooked two ideas from my opponent - if I had anticipated these plans I'm pretty sure I would've at least been able to draw the game. On the bright side, I can say that my confidence and composure have definitely improved since earlier this year, I can say that it has certainly helped me here in all my games. This was another tip which I took from our coach, he told us to always look confident, even if we were losing. He really emphasized the importance of psychology in chess, as in any other sport. I really took to this advice - if your opponent looks or even sounds upset - this can really make you confident and improve your play - but if they act like nothing happened, then you can't feed off their misery can you? So another jewel of advice which I can offer to other chess players, always be and appear confident! Make it so that your opponent can only win on the board as they cannot take anything from your steel composure! Most importantly, I can certainly say that my fighting spirit was present, all my games in this tournament were decisive and all the games which I lost lasted over 50 moves with my opponents consuming a significant amount of their time - contrary to in the Bangkok Chess Club Open where multiple games I lost without a fight. To all chess players and sportsmen - it is very important to have a strong fighting spirit. In chess, to not make any premature draws and to fight every game to the death.
Anyways, my next chess tournament is the Amsterdam Science Park open in Amsterdam, The Netherlands. Believe it or not, the recently concluded Phitsanulok Open would also be quite important for me as it would affect my experience in this upcoming tournament. The thing is that in the Amsterdam open they have rating categories, such as Group A, Group B etc. So naturally I wanted to play in Group A - with all the grandmasters and such. But the thing is that in order to play in Group A you need a FIDE rating over 2000, and my current FIDE rating before the Phitsanulok Open was 1998. So I needed to get at least 3 rating points to get over 2000. Going into the final round I had gained 3.4 points, enough - but was facing a 1665 rated opponent as black - also it did not help that he was a young talent. The thing is that even if I drew my final game , I would still lose 8 points, so it was kind of a must win situation. So thank Caissa, I won that game, and ended the tournament with a FIDE rating of 2004. So I get to play in Group A now. Due to just that, I can't really say that I'm upset about the outcome of this tournament, after all - it could've gone much much worse. Anyways, see you folks in another blog post - probably analyzing one of my losses or an ending!

Looking forward

At the moment I have two upcoming standard chess tournaments, the Phitsanulok Chess Open in Phitsanulok, Thailand, and the Amsterdam Science Open, in Amsterdam, The Netherlands. Two chess tournaments; thousands of kilometers apart. These will be the last tournaments which I will play in before I start my university years! My goal in these tournaments is to just play quality chess, because that's what I've intended to do after realizing that playing for results and numbers is missing the true essence of the game - which is to enjoy it for all its infinite complexities. In total, by the end of my 'chess year' I would've played a total of 85 standard chess games! Nevertheless, the journey is far from over - and I will continue to play chess during my university years. The quest for International Master continues! 

Currently in a low (sort of)

So recently there was a qualification tournament for the Asian Indoor Games, this was for the blitz portion of the event and the qualification tournament was only for people under the age of 23. Coming into the tournament, I was a clear favorite, being seeded 3rd. I also felt that my chances were very good, as I had a lot of experience playing blitz online and also over the board. However, things did not turn out ideally. In a crucial game with someone who later qualified, I had a completely winning position, but instead proceeded to play like an idiot for the remainder of the game. For what reason I don't know, perhaps the same reason why I've screwed up so many games in the past? Board blindness, mental block etc. But on the bright side, the game was a blitz game so at least I could offer that up as an 'excuse'. But still, I had more than enough time to decide what the right path to victory was, the decisions people make are so mysterious sometimes... On the bright side, the Asian Indoor Games would be during my semester at university in the United States, so at least I won't have to miss any school. Also, I still get the same training experience as the rest of the team, being able to train with a very strong Grandmaster from Armenia. So I can't say I'm too upset, I mean, even if I did qualify, I wouldn't say I would learn too much playing just blitz games. I could always play with Grandmasters or International Masters online anyways. The real improvement comes by playing in standard time control tournaments with strong players. Not 3 minute + 2 second increment blitz games. Anyways, can't say I'm too upset, I will continue to train and work on improving my chess, the journey continues.

Recent tournament success and a pearl for the future

After 43 standard games of chess in just less than the span of two months, I must say - I'm feeling exceptionally tired. But as fate would have it, the season ended on an exceptionally good note for me. I placed in the top 5 of both of the last two tournaments which I played in; and gained a net total of 64 rating points, which would bring me to an all time rating high of 1998 (coincidentally also my birth year). This was an extremely pleasant surprise after playing poorly and losing rating points in all of the preceding tournaments. To anyone reading this - this is proof that hard work pays off! Earlier in February of this year - I was training systematically, everyday, for at least 4 hours, on all aspects of Chess. So when I played in my first standard tournament (The Assumption Open) of the year, I was quite upset with my poor performance, bungling winning positions, accepting a draw in a good position. Also in the following two tournaments my level of play was horrendous, In three games I was completely winning but instead scored 0.5 out of 3 of those games! But then I realized what was holding me back - my ego. I was under the pressure to perform well, no surprise considering I'd trained systematically the past few months. So during the small break before my last two tournaments, I read a part of Dan Heisman's excellent book: A Guide to Chess Improvement: The Best of Novice Nook, and came across a jewel of advice (I am paraphrasing here) - improvement comes mostly through the elimination of weaknesses rather than the acquisition of new knowledge. So I had a revelation: what were my weaknesses? Thus, you will find just a few blog posts earlier, a list of my weaknesses :). So during my last two tournaments, I played whilst being aware of my weaknesses and catching them out when they began to creep into my play. But most importantly, I played without the constraints of my ego, having experienced so many ego crushing losses - you could say I had developed a resistance to the ego virus :). Safe to say, the results speak for themselves. Although one must always keep in mind that no matter how good you are, there is always room for improvement. One must beware of the ego, and I must say - I could feel it after my recent string of successes. I felt good, I had forgotten what winning felt like, and in my last remaining games I played with a newfound confidence. This confidence is good, but one must beware when it begins to trick you, when you begin to make sub-par moves with the aura of a super GM. As a pearl for the future, I must remind myself that I am always a student, always learning. It will only get harder, but that's the beauty of the journey. I am currently on a high, but there will be lows, oh I know there'll be lows - but one must keep in mind that in those lows we must remain strong and persevere to come out stronger, wiser, and as better chess players :).

My Analysis of Fronda - Nunbhakdi BCC Open 2017

My weaknesses in chess and how I can improve upon them

After playing 27 standard rated games in just over a month I feel that I have a pretty good grasp of my weaknesses in chess. I will list them in no specific order here and comment about I can fix them.

1. Poor time management
Simply put, my time management skills are horrid. In many of my games, even against fairly weak players, I would be surviving solely on the increment. In one game I spent around around 20 minutes deciding which rook to move to the open file, when I should've spent at the most 10 minutes. My time management problem is also the main reason I have bungled some very good or even winning positions. I think I can improve on this by just being more aware of my time. In some cases I was too aware of it and so played some stupid moves which I wouldn't have played otherwise if i'd used more time. So I need to strike that balance between playing good moves whilst not burning gratuitously through my time.

2. Inaccurate calculation and visualization
This is also a big problem, despite doing the woodpecker exercise (1000 tactics in one day repeatedly) this is still a significant problem of mine; my inaccurate visualization and calculation skills has resulted in many dropped half points and even full ones. I can resolve this by simply doing tactics everyday, which I haven't been doing much of lately. Or even by doing studies or even blindfold chess.

3. Being unaware of opponent's plans
Another large problem. In many games I would just forget what my opponent was planning because I was too scared to even consider what they were up to! This can be resolved by simply thinking about what my opponent's counter-play may be and taking steps to prevent it through prophylaxis.

4. Lack of self-confidence
Perhaps the ultimate issue. My lack of self-confidence has resulted in my poor time management and fear of my opponent's counter-play. What can I say, I guess I just need to tell myself that I am amazing! I have spent many hundreds of hours on chess with some significant victories over strong opponents, I've committed a significant portion of my life to this royal game, so there is no reason that I should not be confident in my own abilities. To be successful in anything you have to have a strong belief in your own abilities.

My Analysis of Paulo - Nunbhakdi BCC Open 2017 Round 1

Journey to Master (2200 FIDE)

Hi everyone reading (if anyone), from this point onward I will be documenting my journey towards the master level in Chess (FIDE rating of 2200). I'm currently 19 years old and have been hovering around the FIDE 1900 mark for three years (my initial FIDE rating was 1893), it's actually been four years but I completely stopped playing competitive Chess for a year so I'm taking one off :). I am currently during my gap year before I go to university in the United States. Due to the excess free time that has suddenly been thrown onto my lap, I made it my goal this year to reach a FIDE rating of 2100 by the time i'm 20 (March 2018) and perhaps a rating of 2200 FIDE by the time I turn 21. (March 2019). I hope to achieve the FM title by the time I finish university which would be around the year 2021. My ultimate goal would probably be the International Master title, I would go for the GM title but then I wouldn't want to compromise my real aspiration which is to work in the film industry! I plan to post analysis of games on this blog as well as talking about my experiences along the way; this is of course to motivate me as I know this journey will be very tough and I will experience a lot of setbacks. I hope anyone who follows this will find the documentation of my journey to be insightful and inspirational. Here's to all of us!

The Proposition (2005) A Review

Hi guys, this is my first film review so wish me luck. My decision came to fruition after watching the film, I immediately typed it's name into Google, wishing to do my routine checking of it's critical statuses on IMDB and Rotten Tomatoes. However, I realized just before I hit enter that I seem to lack any personal opinions about movies, instead basing it on the public opinion of the film. So that's why I'm writing my first proper film review, you can ignore my Dark Knight Rises one in 2012 which I wrote after being exposed to a plethora of online criticism, I wouldn't even call it a review considering I was 14 at the time. So this is my first attempt at an honest and untouched opinion, well, disregarding the fact that I decided to watch the film after seeing it's IMDB rating of 7.5.
So to begin, The film takes place in presumably 19th century Australia and surrounds an outlaw played by Guy Pearce, who is offered a proposition by a town sheriff (played by Ray Winstone) to kill his outlaw brother in exchange for his and his younger brothers freedom. However, things don't turn out to be so simple. Without spoiling anything, the film opens very suddenly and violently, shocking the viewer to attention. With the first few shots of the film, Hillcoat establishes the tone to be unflinching and brutal. As its setting is 19th century Australia, a period of colonization and violence against the local aborigines, the brutal facade the film puts up seems only natural. The film, whilst relatively slow paced, is beautifully shot by cinematographer Benoit Denholmme and features many still shots of the Australian outback. One may even wonder whether some shots were real or created on a computer, one shot in particular would make anyone question this as it seems to defy the laws of camera exposure - although I cannot say as I've never been out in the Australian outback at dusk. The film is ultimately a performance piece, as Emily Watson and Danny Huston among many keep the film's brutal realism alive. Guy Pearce is as usual great, Ray Winstone, whilst playing Ray Winstone (although one cannot blame the distinctive voice) manages to create a heartfelt portrayal of his conflicted character. As director Paul Thomas Anderson said: an actor is the greatest special effect you can have in a film. Furthermore, the score by Nick Cave is also commendable, as it helps to emphasize the dreary nature of the film.Violent acts (of which the film has many) are committed in a blatant fashion, as Hillcoat emphasizes the brutality and hostility of the Australian west. In addition, small details such as flies which casually stick onto the character's faces help to further the realism of the film. Whilst The Proposition may seem tedious to some viewers, it had a powerful impact on me. John Hillcoat (an Australian national) and Nick Cave (the screenwriter) draw an unflinching portrayal of the Australian outback, and in doing so, provide a time machine back to when humanity was less civilized, to perhaps entertain the viewer but essentially to show them the less commendable aspects of human nature.  

I've chosen a rating system out of 4, when before I was doing it out of 5, I think this encourages more laziness as one could just choose 3 if they were so conflicted and be done with it.
Let me just establish the context of the rating system by using some films as benchmarks, I won't be counting the halves except for rock bottom (0.5/4):
0.5/4 - Disgusting: ex. Superbabies: Baby Geniuses 2 (I have actually watched this)
1/4 - So bad it's good: ex. Troll 2, The Happening
2/4 - Just OK: ex. Avengers: Age of Ultron (Anything above this can be considered as recommended)
3/4 - It's Good: ex. Guardians of the Galaxy,
4/4 - Wow!: ex. Saving Private Ryan, Pulp Fiction

 So here's my rating: 3/4. (Halves are permitted by the way).

Regards,

Matthew