A man on a mission, a clown with a vision
Today, the 36-year-old is genuinely happy, feeding off the endorphins released during his workouts. His sleep cycles are peaceful, and he wakes up feeling like a champion who can achieve a lot more. He is still living with an addiction, albeit a healthy one: children’s laughter. “Seeing them roll on the floor, having them come and hug me at the end of a show, these are very touching moments that are dear to me.”

Edmund is also driven to up the profile of Singapore’s clowning sector. When he first started out, he studied under the tutelage of Singapore’s second Ronald McDonald, whose identity is largely kept secret. He is the only disciple born out of this bloodline, and so the onus of preserving his teacher’s legacy falls squarely on him.

Earlier this year, he began a new group called Singapore Caring Clowns Alley, galvanising like-minded performers to provide pro bono services. Together, they work with hospitals and organisations such as Make a Wish to spread joy to disadvantaged children. Making clowning resonate positively with the public is and will be an uphill climb for Edmund, his efforts hindered by Hollywood-weaved travesty and pranksters who deface the art. “I tell my fellow clown friends and students this: Go out, do meaningful work, and show the world that good clowns exist, and that clowning or physical comedy is a vital art form that has value.”

As a clown, I open windows of happiness. Life is never amazing twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. These small windows allow us to forget the drab and the hard, the boredom and the pain. They are a simple escape, a faint memory that one can hold on to. The windows let hope in, and hope is a very important thing to have.