Resolutions

1. Say no.
(Someone told me the other day that I'll make less mistakes if I remember that there's usually only three answers to a request:

a. yes
b. no
c. I don't unnerstan

No to things I don't want to do. No to people I don't want to be with. No when enough is enough.)

2. Be happy.

3. Stop smoking.

4. Take the good, leave the bad.

28

*The evil people took away the internet for a few days, so this is a delayed post. Enjoy... especially the picture (it's not me, it's G.)*

I read somewhere that being subjected to too much light is bad for the mind and body. (In fact, it's a technique used in interrogation and torture) If you've been up many nights doing work with all the lights on, you'll know what I mean. Darkness is comfort and rest, a kind of surrender. For so many weeks (months!), I've felt as though every switch in my system has been hardwired to 'ON'. I even found some switches to turn on that I never knew existed! It's been hard and slow coming down, switching off, tuning out. I still get up restless at 7am. A mild, inexplicable sense of panic accompanies me everywhere like a stubborn little pet. I’ve fed and cultivated it slavishly and it will just not. Go. Away. Shoo!

Yesterday was my birthday. It was a gentle day, full of quiet transformations. Me and G. got massages to celebrate. There was an… ahem, incident involving a pair of disposable panties, as well as a farcical lunch, which we will not delve into too deeply here. As we lay there purring and comatose, I couldn’t help thinking we were something like dead logs being aromatherapically prodded back into the land of the living and breathing!

In the evening, even though it was drizzling, we went to Pantai Pasir Panjang, nearby in Balik Pulau. I think it’s one of Penang’s last beautiful beaches. You take a short windy road, following the signs to Kem Bina Negara and Pulau Betong. You pass by saltwater marsh on your right and then there it is at the end of the road – our little secret hideaway! The sun was setting. The water was warm. I was being cradled in the bowl of the world - I floated on my back in it, feeling faint raindrops on my face… and then like some methodical short circuit every switch in my body and mind started to go out. Flip flip flip flip. I looked up at the great sky, and I was weightless – no words, no memories. I was only something tossed by the gentle waves, belonging equally to sea and shore: they couldn’t decide who was going to have me!

The light was something magical and seemed to go on and on. The waves got a little stronger. One, two: ok, it was decided then: the shore it was. I stepped out clean and at peace, warmed by an indefinable sense of gratitude. Me and G. swigged vodka, lit up cigarettes and watched until the sun burnt itself out in the sky.

Later, I slept the deep, restful sleep of the blessed. It was a great day.

Yangon album

Silly Betta forgot to take an adapter, so the camera gave out after 2 days. Here are some shots I managed to take. You'll have to imagine the rest :)

M.S. (as we jingle past in a trishaw):'Traders Hotel: that's the tallest building in Yangon!'




On the second night, we attend an outdoor theatre/poetry/dance performance set on the grounds of a Hindu temple in a nearby township. I had some problems with the performance, but the setting was beautiful. The text hanging from the trees is the first character in the Myanmar alphabet: 'ka'.




I had my food prepared literally 2 ft in front of me! Too much fun. He's cooking the vegetables I chose. Wonder who's going to pick the pig's nose.




Beautiful Inya lake, perfect dating-spot.




M.D. (a poet, writer and my long-suffering translator), M.S. and Hong,O.B. in the evening light.

Group shot of Myanmar artists and silly old me. Everyone is serious, but I'm grinning like the goddamn Cheshire Cat.

Hong, O.B. in a trishaw. The funnest way to get around Yangon. I was like a kid in a park not wanting my ride to end.

Phones are hot commodities in Yangon. Not everyone has one, so people set up a makeshift 'phonebooth'! So enterprising!

Happy M.S. :)

Heartlands: Myanmar Part I

Evening over Yangon: as beautiful as any evening at home, but drawn out as long as it can go, like an extended breath.

I have the briefest moment of solitude before waves of social activity wash over me - the long-awaited, much-sweated-over exhibition opening of 'Pendatang/Arrivals' is tonight! Yesterday, after giving the wall labels a last twitch to correct some imagined imperfection, me and G. looked at each other and broke out into relieved smiles. It's been tough going for both of us. But I think we were meant to meet at this time. I'm certain that, if it had been any other person, stuck up here together for months upon months, I would have run screaming from the hills, leaving a trail of unfinished art/junk behind me.

I landed safely in Penang on Sunday, after 4 days in Yangon. I don't know how to start writing about my trip, other than to say I am a changed person. I was irrationally happy to see M.S. again - it was a 1000watt smile that lit up from within when I spotted him beyond the arrival gates, and then irrationally sad when I left. There were tears, dudes!! I was trying to understand it: a deep connection without romantic love, hell, without a common language even! G. said it's simply something karmic, and I think I'll agree.

The city was everything and nothing like I expected. Dusty streets speckled with betel juice like coughed-up blood. Beautiful, decrepit colonial buildings - stronger, longer-lasting any modern building; although covered with moss they were standing their ground, relentlessly just... enduring. And then shining gold pagodas everywhere, the most awesome of which is undoubtably the heart of the city - Shewdagon pagoda, at least 2500 years old, in existence since Buddha's time and in impeccable condition today. Every taxi or trishaw driver or local artist who took me past there would invariably call my attention to it: look, that's the Shewdagon pagoda. It seemed to me an embodiment of the people's spirit, and I felt almost fearful in the shadow of it's splendour, it's grandeur. Because it is set in the middle of a city devoid of Starbucks, McDonalds or shopping arcades, my eyes were rid of that cynical tint that so often accompanies the viewing of national monuments - it was not a pretty building for my tourist consumption, it was bigger than me...

Until the moment of my return, I think never realized just what a sad soul I have been all this year. Being with the other artists thought me a lot. There are many ways to be oppressed. The worst of all conditions, like Nazim Hikmet once wrote, is that of self-suppression. We enjoy relative freedom, but as my blogger friend says, we might well find that 7 out of 10 Malaysians is under mental seige! Warmth, friendship and sincerity offer the sort of liberation that is truly universal. We all need this. I understand now that when we say these things are more important than art, we do not mean that art is not important. Art is only the vehicle for it...

At the closing party, after I had done my performance 'How To Talk to Strangers', A.K. and his wife came to say goodbye. He took me in his arms and said 'take care of your health ok. I will miss you'. To my utter mortification, I burst into tears. He went on to say quietly: 'It's ok. Don't cry. I understand.' OMG, it makes me tear-up even now. What a emotional wreck I am, something like a jellyfish.

Today, the sun is shining outside. I feel clean. I feel like dark days are over and everything is going to be alright. Starting... now.

Artlands: Myanmar Part II

No art without booze. Beyond Pressure opening party at Mother Land Inn (the guesthouse where I was staying). My contribution was a bottle of duty free Black Label.

On Saturday (6 Dec), me and Hong O-Bong (a very funny performance artist from Korea) got to sit in on the dialog between Myanmar artists and the Board of Censorship. I couldn't understand what was being said of course, but I managed to register that the atmosphere was quite light - you'd imagine it to be kind of serious, but in fact there was alot of laughter! Uh-huh, believe it. o_0 Each artist stood up by turn and described what they were going to do. Apparently the officials were quite helpful: giving suggestions about how the artists could improve their performances!

At the end of the dialog, we got what we were hoping for: a certificate saying that Beyond Pressure Performance Festival was officially allowed to happen publicly. We crowded around that piece of paper, caressing it and whooping like monkeys! Only then did I realize what an important moment it was for everybody. For the first time, the artists managed to build a bridge with the authorities, and by extension, the general public. It meant that the artists could perform openly, without fear, and that the audience could attend openly, without worry. I can't even begin to imagine what this means for the future...

Everyone immediately went on an 'invitation spree', calling people to let them know that the performances were going ahead, and to come come come! By 3pm, more and more people started to fill the room, and when the first artist, Nyein Way, started his performance, I estimate there were about 40 - 50 people there. Moe later told me that not only had the number of audience exceeded their expectations, but also the diversity. It was not only artists who came, but also students and members of the general public.

As for the 9 Myanmar artists who performed... what can I say... each work was powerful, intellectual and deeply inspiring.

After that, we all went for dinner at a restaurant near Shewdagon Pagoda. There, me and Hong, O-Bong performed our pieces with great participation from all who were present. Even though foreign artists weren't allowed to perform publicly, I think most of the audience followed us to the restaurant venue... in the end, it was still a 'public' performance, heheh. This taught me a big lesson about how to adapt to situations, and to make it work for you.

It's been a great priviledge to meet, talk, perform, experience the city and drink copious ammounts of whiskey together. In my head I'm planning a big exhibition of Myanmar contemporary art in 2009 or 2010. Of course the art is important, but really, I just want to see everyone again...

Last leg last leg

I am offering libations to all friendly cosmic and earthly energies, supplications to forces great and small... please give me energy and steady nerves to finish my exhibition and trip to Myanmar during the next two weeks.

Amen amen amen.

Killing Jars series

This is an old work I made in... let's see now, 2005! Zooks! That's 3 years ago. I've been thinking about these lately, I don't know why. They remind me of a time when I thought about art differently. This is one of the few works of mine I really like, and wouldn't mind seeing again. But it's in some collector's cave of treasures now. If I could buy them back...

Enjoy!

City Scurvy, Acrylic on glass, 2005
Individual jars painted with teeth, a jawbone on the outside. At the time I was full of angst - the city was eating me up inside, and I was suffering from an impacted wisdom tooth!

N.o. Substance : Disc 1 Disc 2, Acrylic on glass, 2005
My boss at the time gave me a copy of New Order's double disc album Substance. It was a revelation! Numbers are the time for each song on the album, inside is the list of song titles. I remember I would drive alone to the airport with this playing, feeling quite sorry for myself. Yes, I was an emo little thing.

Dream, Acrylic on glass & folded acetate, 2005
The text on the outside indicates the parts of a full-rigged sailing ship, minus the ship itself. Trapped in the inner bottle is a little boat folded from acetate. The ship obsession began even then...

Lover, Acrylic on glass & windshield fragments, 2005
Two fragments from a broken windscreen stuck in their respective timezones. This is the saddest work in the world. Heartache, heartbreak and woe! I found the windscreen dumped by the side of the road - I had a friend with me who rolled her eyes at my 'zup lap sap' (trash-picking) habits but helped me find a plastic bag to put it in anyway. Time weals all hounds - but everytime I see this work I remember...

*All these images are copyright Sharon Chin, 2005. If you use them, please ask for permission, or at least credit.

An imperfect art

Snapshot of Chinary Ung's Spiral IX, taken from Malaysiancomposers.com

Crunch time has come to visit again. The show is 3 weeks away and counting, with all the usual sicknesses in full attendance - heart beating faster, intense anxiety, fatigue. If you visited my mind, what you'd find there is a blinking neon sign.

I won't be posting often, but please read *this* lecture by Cambodian-American composer Chinary Ung. I searched him out after reading a wondefully moving interview with him and Malaysian composer CH Loh in this month's Off The Edge (which by the way, is an excellent issue overall).

He talks about how art (music) is imperfect, and speaks soulfully about the creative process as a spiritual quest that is 'not about position, it's about expression and liberation'. Yes, yes, you've heard it all before. But for me, I find that I can never hear enough of this sort of wisdom, and in fact I DON'T hear enough of it. I think no matter what sort of artist you are, whether successful or washed-out, you are always waiting for a teacher to show you the path again... that path... which shimmers tenously, blown in and out of sight by fear and... what else but a lack of faith?

At this point, I'll whisper to you my deepest dream: I want to live by the sea doing what I love to do, and build a community around that. The end of 2008 will mark 4 years since I started living and working as an artist. I think all this time I was (have been) struggling madly (fiercely!) to spiral from the outside into the center. Next year, when I begin my new job, I WILL be at the 'center' - it's the logical conclusion of my quest so far. The path I began on can't go much further than that, I think. So after that time (how long will it take? 1 year? 2?) in the center... I'll start spiralling out again... reaching for the ocean, my home.

But yeah, go read that lecture. And wish me luck for my show!

Soooo... what kind of art do you do?

Is a question that poses a real conundrum.

I feel as though I'm never more boring as when I try to answer it. I blather on... verbal subterfuges 'uh, conceptual artist... all kinds of media... no no, not a traditional sculptor IN THAT SENSE but...'; mumbled jargon followed by a quick change of subject. Hardly doing myself any favours in the process.

But trust one of my banker best-friends to come up with the perfect solution:

T.W.: Betta, what you do is you make beautiful things out of rubbish.

She nailed it! That's what I'm using from now on!

Ink and hair

I'm going to be cliche and declare that I hate women's magazines on the whole, yet bafflingly, once in a while, I absolutely MUST know what Keira bloody Knightley's or Angelina bugger Jolie's views are on life, love, sex and global warming. Yeah, usually when I'm stuck in a doctor's office with nothing to read. Some, like Marie Claire or Harpers are okay (I've been in the former and a friend works at the latter), but really... ugh whatever, I'm hungover and miserable so I'm just going to say it... it's all excreble.

A magazine I've started reading lately is Inked, which is about tattoos generally, but dressed-up in culture, art and fashion. Their photospreads feature absolutely gorgeous creatures, all real women with their tattoos who don't look retouched. You totally see goosebumps, shaved legs (well-shaved legs, but at least you can TELL they're shaved, at least you know that despite what you see in ads and fashion shoots, women do not enter the world as naturally hairless as... as... bloody hairless Mexican dogs), frekles, scars, folds in the armpits and neck, and all kinds of skin color and body shapes. And it's not like those stupid 'Real Beauty Within' issues women's magazines invariably put out once a year to convince themselves they're not purveyurs of unhealty body image and general shithouse-ness. They are just beautiful, beautiful shots of beautiful women in beautiful clothes and make-up.

Wow, I'm in a GOOD mood today, aren't I? Can't even summon up the will (Betta it's called latent perfectionism, fuck you!) to find different words for 'beautiful' in the Word thesaurus. Sigh. I'll stop spreading around my inner anger and misery like a bad case of herpes now. I'll leave on a high note: here's one of my favorite photos in the lastest issue of Inked, of the impossibly beautiful tattoo artist Julie Becker. I've decided that this will be my next haircut as soon as the current one grows out.

Enjoy, bitches. Oh, and pay a visit to Inked online where you can see the entire photoset. Some of them are in colour. Mmmm.

photo taken from Inked Mag online: www.inkedmag.com

I drank the Seven Seas*

...and some Club 99*

...and vodka

...and beer.

Oh yes, there was quite a bit of sorrow to drown. I did it with great dedication. But that's between me, the bottle(s) and the hills.

*these are Malaysian liquors well known for their... ahem, affordability, efficacy, and ability to induce a blindingly painful hangover. There's a reason why they're sold at Chinese medical halls throughout the country: cheap cure for misery, but apply with caution.

Happy thoughts

Because I'm stuck alone on a hill, feeling blue.

1. The sea
2. Boats
3. Tattoos
4. Bright stars
5. Clear nights
6. Dresses
7. Wine
8. Buying art
9. Literature
10. Miyazaki
11. Tophats
12. Breakfast
13. Walking
14. New languages
15. Galapagos
16. Mexico
17. Argentina
18. Portugal
19. Make-up
20. Dancing
21. Poop
22. Z. + Bunny
22. Aubrey & Maturin
23. Sex
24. Bach
25. Dan Savage
26. Friends, old and new
27. Graphic novels
28. Bikinis
29. Glass jars
30. Sydney
31. The moon
32. Whiskey, expensive or cheap
33. Gardens
34. Coconuts, trees and to eat
36. Herbs
39. Jacques Pepin
40. Panthers
41. Rivers
42. Antares
43. Color pencils
44. Perfume
45. Sleep, after a long day
46. Honey
47. Cloth bags
48. Massage
49. Rubber bouncy balls
50. Ur-Quan Masters!

Ooo. It worked. Back to work. Laters.

Happiness

I was really happy last night. (Photo by Azwan Ismail)


Disco Darurat was fucking awesome! Pretty dress, great music curated by Jerome Kugan, crazy-ass dancing which turned into improvised performances at several instances, cheap alcohol (ok, it weren't that cheap) siphoned into me by A.Y. (thanks A.!), plus so many of my favorite people there (except Godzilla). It was a great night.

Talking down

Godzilla talks down Betta's anxieties about joining (touch wood, throw salt over your shoulder, cross fingers, etc) corporate Malaysia:

Godzilla: ...and make sure you take the effort to go for lunch with people.
Betta *looking totally catastrophie*: Huh? Lunch? With people? I have to do that? WTF. OMG. What the hell do I talk about?

This means I can no longer eat toast in the sweetness of my own company all day long.

Betta: I feel like a hillbilly. I feel like I'm 23, starting my first job.
Godzilla: This is not hard. It's easy. Look, if 50 percent of Malaysians can do it, so can you.
Betta: I feel retarded.

This made me realize just how inept we artists are at dealing with stuff other people can do without thinking too much about it. Fill this giant, cavernous space with a hanging sculpture in 3 days? Sure! Circulate at a corporate function? OMG OMG OMG OMG. Interact daily with bosses, secretaries, and office assistants? Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

And here's the heartbreak hotel woe-is-me stuff:

Betta: Are people going forget about me as an artist?
Godzilla: Yes, people are probably going to forget about you. (Ain't she good? This is called tough love, y'all) But trust me, when you're done with it, it's not going to take long for them to remember you again.

-

There is so so so much work to be done before the end of the year, my guts quail at the very thought. If it wasn't clear enough to me before that I can no longer continue working in this manner, then I'm absolutely certain of it now.

So in spite of misgivings and anxieties, which honestly, I find difficult to fully articulate, I do look at this impending change with a great sense of relief, anticipation even. And if I may be allowed the indulgence of saying so: I suspect... that I'll make my best art in my 30s. Isn't that something to look forward to?

Welcome to another world

The interview went well.

Short of any storms or change of heart it appears I will start the new year doing something quite different.

More later. For now, I realized that I'll have to change the description of my blogger profile! Ok, that's freaking me out. See you later.

Relative stress

Back in KL for a few days - work, weddings, interview.

If *I* feel stressed, can you imagine what Obama's going through?

(from the lovely Ed Winkleman)

If I don't get that flashy job, I will still be perfectly happy - moving out, living cheaply and perhaps not buying quite so many dresses.

If I fuck up my exhibition so badly that I'm stoned out of Georgetown as a pariah artist.. um. I will still be perfectly happy - I'll move to that little fishing village in Teluk Bahang and live out my freelancer days in complete bliss.

So everyone (including me), chill the fuck out!

New dress New dress New dress

Ugh. This online shopping thing is bad for my credit.

Considering I'm living on a hill where grooming really is at the bottom of my priorities, all this dress purchasing must be driven by some compulsion I don't quite understand yet. They're being sent to my house in KL, so I haven't even seen them! When I go back there and open the boxes it will be like Christmas...

Anyway, back to work to pay for these lovely threads!

Once again, dress and photo from http://the-shoplifters.blogspot.com/

Tired old fish

Revolving hatstand from www.storefixturedepot.com. Wouldn't this make such a cute sculpture, filled up with quirky handmade hats?

You may have noticed, dear reader, that the last few posts have been distinctly list-like in nature. This isn't merely stylistic conceit, but an attempt to keep track of the multiplying threads in my head - always on the verge of becoming a hopeless tangle.

Here are some dates, so that you too, can follow the fascinating travails of my life:

1. We know at last that the residency exhibition opening dates are 8 - 18 December. Yeah, 10 days long (AND CLOSED ON WEEKENDS - it's going to be in a bank, people) make that 7 days!), WTF right? Oh well. Opening is December 12.

2. Dec 3 - 7: I'm going to Myanmar! Beyond Pressure International Performance Festival is happening and I will be there. I'm so happy and excited about this, even though it is right before the exhibition. I'm trying not to think about that, because something deep inside, like maybe my small intestine, is telling me that this is going to be a life-changing experience. I'm thinking about performing How To Talk To Strangers, as well as a new little work I developed from a game the teacher made us play in sign language class.

3. That G.P. research project. Sigh... it's more hard work. And the deadline inches closer.

Damn, I'm tired. I'm at zero, baby. I can pull out a little more magic for this last road, but after that, I'm hanging up my cloak and hat for awhile.

This has got to be the most boring post I've ever written. (If you're having some discreditable, facetious thought in your head along the lines of say, oh, 'maybe not the MOST boring...' - meh, shame on you)

Well onto happier thoughts. Let's help Betta plan a holiday! Any ideas are welcome. Keep in mind that I like the sea, boats, lounging around beaches in my bikini, eating vegetarian food, reading, sewing, having hot sex, wearing funny clothes and getting drunk. I also feel like I'd like to do some recreational drugs (in a safe and nurturing environment).

I'm thinking most about a trip to East Malaysia... a whole other Malaysia.

Second place goes to Langkawi, just because it's so close to Penang.

Best time to visit me in Penang is from exhibition opening onwards. You can see the show and then we can consume disgusting amounts of duty-free Langkawi booze.

Right-o, bright-o. I have to post this before the power cuts off again. It's thundering and lightning vastly outside.

Birthing pains

1. Pocket seas
Flipbooks animations of mobile phone videos of the sea, shot from seven points of the island.

2. Sailing pockets
A scaled down suite of sails sewed from transparent organza, turned into shoulder bags, incorporating pockets rescued from old trousers. White is the colour of surrender.

3. Sitting states/Bumiputeri
Silhouettes of different states of sitting, filled with sand, sewn into straw mats. Weight of the body - imprint on the land. This place is forcing teaching me to sit.

-

12 people die when their boat sinks after leaving Port Klang. They're on their way home to celebrate Hari Raya.

-

Each person journeys to find a home, and this journey is internal as much as external.

We all need safety, a place to rest and sit. This invitation is extended to all - rich and poor, young and old, male and female, from all corners of the world - because this search is basically a function of the body. This body that's a universal burden - humble, imperfect (like a carpet) - with so much capacity for pain. The mind and spirit are respites of the body. Sometimes the body is its own respite.

-

Reading: The Stone Raft by Jose Saramago; The Hundred Days by Patrick O'Brian.

Saramago's nobel lecture *here*.
-

Feeling: something moving.

-

Missing: Poop, friends, lover & family.

Two small surrenders

1.
There'll come a time
when veils are drawn back
when the distant lights you see
from the plane
or the hill
or across the sea
are just pretty to look at
and don't mean a thing
no matter how hard you try.

2.
Now, I want to love you
with my eyes shut
nothing watching
but the night.
And you take the words
right out,
leave breath pouring
in

My new dress

I'm afraid I may have opened the floodgates with my very first online purchase. The transaction was completed in less than 2minutes. Barely enough time to register just what I was doing.

But look! It's vintage! It's got pleats! And sleeves! And stardust! In black and white! And it's got goddamn snow leopards all over it. I shall say no more, only that I can't wait to wear it out, drink cheap alcohol all night long and feel extremely pleased with myself. Dress and its picture from http://the-shoplifters.blogspot.com/.

Weather II

1. Weather is a system.
2. The system circulates.
3. Nothing lost, nothing gained.

Also, what are weathermaps but maps of change?

Pockets II

This is about circulation.

Start
1. Residency - get/give money
2. Money - put in pocket
3. Pocket - get object
4. Object - transform into something
5. Something - show to people
6. People - buy something, get/give money
Start again

Pockets

The first task: Buying
On the first day, I am going to give you RM0.50 to put in your pocket. You are to go out and buy something with it. It can be anything, you are only limited to two conditions: it doesn't cost you more than RM0.50 to get it, and it must fit in your pocket.

On the second day, I am going to give you RM5.00 to put in your pocket. You are to do the same as the first day. The third day, RM50.00, and the fourth day, RM500.00.

The second task: Keeping
Keep what you have bought in your pocket for the entire day. You can write about it if you want, take it out and look at it or think about it. Or you can just keep it there. Don't show it to anyone at this point. At the end of the day, try to take a picture of your pocket with what you have bought still inside it. If you don't have a camera with you, try to draw a picture of your pocket. If you feel that you're not good at drawing, you might try describing what your pocket looks like. You can write down your description, or just remember it.

The third task: Showing
Now you are going to transform what you have bought in your pocket into something you can take out and show your friends. You may want to build a little box for it, turn it into something else, paint it different colours, burn it to ashes, or anything you like. Because you had to do these tasks 4 separate times with different allowance of money, you will have four things you can take out of your pocket to show to and talk about with your friends, families or even strangers.

Expanded world

I only ever associated Ilya and Emilia Kabakov with that 'mausoleum' installation at Serpentine Gallery, London, and I never wanted to look at their work. But I chanced upon an image from Singapore Biennale 2008 of their installation and it looked wondrous. A little digging turned up their site, which is a little heavy on the flash-bells-n-whistles, but shows a whole range of beautiful, poetic and, why not say it, rather wacky projects.

Even the short descriptions of each work opens up whole new worlds. Here are some of my favorites, which I don't doubt you will love as well! Yes, it's very 'me'...

The Antenna
Whenever we look up at the sky, we involuntarily have a 'presentiment': unconsciously we anticipate some sort of communication from there; it seems that 'something' will be addressed directly to me...

Ten Characters
The inhabitants of these rooms are stricken by the dream of abandoning this depressing and interminable world. Each invents his own special means of escape or at least a way for ignoring the surroundings. This becomes a maniacal idea for each of them...

The Palace of Projects
A unique museum of dreams, hypotheses, and projects, even if unrealizable, the Palace of Projects stimulates the viewers' own fantasies, prompting him toward the resolution of his own tasks, awakening his imagination, providing the impulse for his own creative activity

The Ship of Siwa
The theme 'Ships and Boats of Ancient Egypt' is to be introduced into the curriculum of Siwah schools for the spring of 2005. The teachers will show slides depicting ancient vessels, they will explain their construction and purposes, and will assign the task of drawing them, either by copying these depictions or by improvising on this same theme.

The Life of Flies
Recently, a group of scientists has been proposing a hypothesis as to the direct and unmediated influence of fly associations on finance

The Bridge
There is no single description of what happened - the reports maintain the most adamant discrepancies. However, one inexplicable circumstance was obvious to all: after all of the commotion had subsided, the entire floor in the center of the hall was littered with groups of little white people, constantly exchanging places...

Here's a picture of The Palace of Projects:

My unhealthy state of mind means I'm not capable of very big thoughts these days, but maybe a little later on in the game I'd like to make work like this again. For now, I'm trying to do everything on a much more modest scale, a scale within my reach.

Kisses from Penang.

Some things never change

This made me cry:

"Kok berkata semasa pertemuan itu, beliau memberikan kepada anaknya ubat herba Cina dan pati ayam."

From here.

Sitting for SPM? Brands essence of chicken!

Pregnant? Brands essence of chicken!

Ditahan ISA? Brands essence of chicken + ginseng kau kau!

Some things never change, and those things are gonna bring us through.

Listen, Betta, Listen

... to the wisdom of Master Wu Gui!

"Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery. Today? Today is a gift. That's why we call it the present." (OMG, so true. And without Master Yoda's idiosyncratic syntax!)

"There are no accidents." (Say this three times or keep repeating until unwilling ears receive)

"One often meets her destiny on the road she takes to avoid it." (Goddammit!)

"Let go of the illusion of control" (I'm trying...)

Thoughts on the weather

As I was saying to G., it's like the weather is the 3rd artist in residence up here at Balik Pulau. Storms, floods, mini landslides, blackouts, rising damp, puddles, showers, gentle rains, winds, sun, high humidity, a million stars in the cloudless night sky - we have seen it all with the promise of more to come. And right now? It's a wondrous day. Laundry day. Sit back day. Sex in the afternoon day. It will bring on an evening that aches on into night, because the day doesn't want to say goodbye.

I have no notions of my purpose up here, still floating from one day to the next, sitting and waiting. The only thing I am sure of is the experiencing of uncertainty. Uncertainty is not to be confused with timidity or sloth...

My thought petered out there, just as I was dwelling on the irony of wanting to speak resolutely of uncertainty. Who knows what it is. It is not a thing (an attribute) but a state (a condition). No knowledge or determination of will has helped me to overcome uncertainty. Believe me when I say this has proved profoundly frustrating.

The only way that helps me think about it is the weather. I wake up every morning trying to read myself like I read the clouds in the sky - will it be rain? Will it storm? The weather is making me realize what to do: arm yourself with knowledge and an inkling, be prepared for anything, have the right tools, keep watch... and just... submit.

Reformasi

UPDATE: Here is a satellite screenshot of Kamunting Detention Center, the maximum security prison where ISA detainees are kept.


Below is the mapped version, in which, as you cannot fail to notice, the prison does not exist.


Here also is a list of known detainees as of 2001. From Aliran's ISA Watch.
http://www.aliran.com/oldsite/monthly/2001/3e.htm

---

Let's see how long this list of people detained under ISA gets:

1. Raja Petra Kamaruddin
2. Tan Hoon Cheng
3. MP Teresa Kok

Don't lose your heads, people. Malaysians are not barbaric and FASCIST, UMNO is. Don't lose hope, don't pack your bags, don't dig out those Australian PR forms. We will all be needed when the change comes, and it's coming.

Are you reading Jose Saramago's 'SEEING' yet? Now's the time.

Happy Post 06

Lord knows I dearly love anything dotmatrix.

Awhiles back Z. downloaded a whole series of background art from a game called DinoRun. I just remembered them today and this is what my desktop looks like now:


It's the end of the game, in which our little dino hero has escaped the clutches of Dino-margeddon to reach Dino-topia! It's exactly the sort of place I'd like to live out my life at the end of my game (always assuming I managed to outrun extinction) - infinitely modest, yet elegant and comfortable.

The game itself is more fun than choosing an ice-cream at Baskin Robbins!

Endings and beginnings

Back in KL for a few days.

Hell and death, if I never have to see another scrap of blue plastic tarpulin as long as I draw breath I should die happy. The show is coming down at last.

Cobwebs are clearing fast in my head... Some hints about the infant, at this stage completely hypothetical show 'Seeing and Hearing': magic tricks, street magicians, little magic props and any old excuse to buy and exhibit a top hat...

More later.

Drunken post

Hahahah. Didn't take very long did it? Making noble inroads into that bottle of Smirnoff.

The night before last, as I fell asleep, I saw right in front of me, through the mosquito net, a small little green glow, as if a faint star had descended into my concrete hut. Stupid and hazy between dream and life, my thoughts ran thus:

OMG. It's a light. WTF is it doing there? Am I dreaming? I feel quite awake though.
*blink*
Shit, it's still there. You know what they say about seeing a light in the jungle - don't look at it! It may be some pontianiak shennenigans, dey!
But it's so pretty...
*blink*
Still there. Aiyoh. Maybe it's a _______. But who am I kidding, those things disappeared ages ago. Whatever. Sleep la.

Well, I didn't dare to hope, but G. confirmed tonight that there are fireflies around here. So I have been visited. Poor lonely little thing. If it comes again I will stare and stare at it, I promise!

Tomorrow I will try to catch this almost mythical U401 bus into town.

Yesterday night, because of the day's rain, the stars were out in all their glory. I turned off the lights and sat staring at them, rapt and humbled. That simple grace I've known intermittently throughout my life, brought into being by the most cliched of things (sunsets, stars, full moons, ballet, etc.), wrapped around me like an invisible blanket...

Betta: You know, I wish I would just see likd a snake or a giant centipede, so that I can freak out once and then be done with it
G.: Hey, give it time
Betta: I just want to get the freak out out of the way, you know
G.: You may not even see one!
Betta: *forging ahead* So did this centipede actually get onto your foot or was it NEAR your foot? These things matter .
G.: Uhh. It was NEAR, not actually ON.
Betta: *shudder*

Working backwards

Think it softly and say it in a whisper.

For some unknown reason, I think that the show at the end of the year may be called 'Seeing and Hearing'.

But don't ask why and don't tell anyone. Yet.

Who would believe it, 10 years on...

... we say these words with more urgency than ever. Read it and then read Jose Saramago's "Seeing"

DEKLARASI PERMATANG PAUH
Menyedari gesaan al-Quran yang bermaksud “tidaklah kami mahu melainkan untuk melakukan islah sekuat daya kami";

Dan berilhamkan tradisi budaya-budaya Asia yang keseluruhannya menganjurkan pembaharuan diri dan masyarakat; Dan menginsafi bahawa Malaysia kini dicengkam kemelut yang dahsyat dan memerlukan kekuatan dalaman untuk bangun semula; Maka kami rakyat Malaysia yang berbilang bangsa dan agama bertekat untuk melancarkan gerakan reformasi yang menyeluruh:

Gerakan reformasi yang terpancar perjuangan hati nurani,dari kesedaran bahawa sesungguhnya diri manusia itu mulia dan merdeka, mempunyai hak dan tanggungjawab, diri manusia haram dizalimi dan diaibkan, haram di belenggu dan disekat tanpa mengikut proses dan undang-undang yang adil;

Gerakan reformasi untuk menegakkan keadilan untuk semua, yang kuat dan yang lemah, yang kaya dan yang miskin; membersihkan institusi dan proses undang-undang dari dicemari oleh penyalahgunaan kuasa dan rasuah;

Gerakan reformasi untuk mendaulatkan kuasa rakyat melalui proses demokrasi. Demokrasi itu satu kemestian, kerana semangat keadilan yang ada dalam diri manusia membolehkan demokrasi dilaksana, tetapi kecenderungan manusia untuk berlaku zalim menjadikan demokrasi satu kewajipan;

Gerakan reformasi untuk memperjuangkan keadilan ekonomi,menjana pertumbuhan dan pengagihan yang saksama, jangan yang kaya bertambah kaya yang miskin papa kedana. Dunia ini mencukupi untuk keperluan semua, tetapi tidak mencukupi untuk memenuhi kerakusan individu;

Gerakan reformasi untuk membanteras rasuah dan penyalahgunaan kuasa, mengikis manipulasi pasaran oleh segelintir golongan rakus dan mahakaya;

Gerakan reformasi untuk memperkukuhkan jayadiri budaya yang dinamis, setia kepada warisan bangsa yang murni dan terbuka kepada segala yang baik dari semua budaya;

Gerakan reformasi untuk membawa bangsa Malaysia ke zaman maklumat dan dunia tanpa sempadan, menjana kebijaksanaan, keyakinan dan keterbukaan untuk menjalin persahabatan sejagat berdasarkan prinsip kebenaran dan keadilan.

Kami akan menggerakkan reformasi ini dengan aman, mengikut semangat perlembagaan dan bernafaskan prinsip pemerintahan undang-undang.

Masanya telah tiba. Bersatulah untuk reformasi.

Permatang Pauh
12 September 1998


PERMATANG PAUH DECLARATION
Being conscious of the Quranic injunction which urges striving towards betterment;

And inspired by the Asian traditions, which all encourage renewal for the individual and for society;

And acknowledging that Malaysia is in the grip of a terrible crisis and requires recourse to its inner strengths in order to rise again,

We the citizens of Malaysia of all cultural and religious backgrounds are determined to launch a movement for comprehensive reform:

A reform movement shining with a light radiating from aspiring and pure hearts; from the awareness that man is truly noble and free, with rights and responsibilities, that it is a sacrilege to abuse and denigrate any man or woman, to bind and restrict any man or woman without following the due process of just laws;

A reform movement to establish justice for all, the weak and strong, the rich and poor, to preserve the institutions and processes of law from the defilement of graft and abuse of power;

A reform movement to sanctify the power of the people through democratic means, for democracy is an imperative: man’s capacity for justice makes democracy possible, but man's inclination to injustice makes democracy necessary;

A reform movement that champions economic justice, one that advocates fairness in economic growth and distribution so that the rich do not get richer at the expense of the poor, for the world has enough for everyone, but too little to satisfy everyone’s greed;

A reform movement to eradicate graft and abuse of power, to strip the opulent and greedy clique of their power to manipulate the market;

A reform movement to reinforce a dynamic cultural identity, where faith in our noble cultural traditions is intact, but there is openness to all that is good in all traditions;

A reform movement to launch the Malaysian nation into the information age and the borderless world, encouraging wisdom, self-assurance and openness towards a global friendship based on the principles of truth and justice.

We launch this reform movement as a peaceful movement, in accordance with the spirit of the Constitution and in observance of the principles of the rule of law.

The hour has come. Unite for Reformasi.

Permatang Pauh
12 September 1998

It's a hill not a mountain

Balik Pulau, Penang

My accommodations:

Hard to say. To call it a house would be somewhat over generous, yet 'hut' seems a little harsh. It is true that the walls and floor suffer from a lack of paint, making the atmosphere closer to a cell-block than anyone could wish. But there is hot water and electricity, the roof is tiled, and there is internet! It is true that upon closer inspection, me and G. discovered today that the 'mattress' resembles a giant dish sponge. But I haven't slept under a mosquito net nor fallen asleep to the sound of insects since I was a child.

My days:

Long and full with reading, finding the most comforting configuration for the furniture, dusting away cobwebs which seem to grow overnight, fixing food, drinking vodka and staring into space. It started raining yesterday night and continued all day today. At some point I'm sure we were in the middle of a cloud which was gathering more and more weight until it finally turned itself into a giant downpour.

My friends:

G. is the other artist, living in the hut next to mine. She has been here 6 weeks and is positivity and resourcefulness itself! We oriented ourselves well from the very beginning, seeming to sense when the other requires solitude, use of the modem or an offer of alcohol. There are a few forlorn looking dogs and a cat named Mexico who adopted G. in the early days. L. and N. are a Thai couple who work for the resort up the hill. We are an odd little community to be sure, but very comfortable. This place certainly needs to see a good party or two, which we plan to have in the near future.

My work and mind:

Dormant. Both seem to be slumbering away in a dark corner. I prod them every day to see how they are doing, but not too hard! Every morning I wake up and find the weight still there. The other evening I watched L. and N. walk together down the path at the bottom of the hill. They have been married 27 years. I liked seeing how they appeared to communicate silently - you could almost draw some faint lines between them if the idea wasn't so crass. It made me happy and I felt a little like my old self again. I wanted to learn sign language when I was here... maybe that's what I'll do.

Good night.

From the bottom of the river

Hello there. I'm floating to the surface again, getting used to life after some tough times. There will be more updates soon. Miss me? Hehe.

Music in my head

The opening of the Cello Suite No.3 from the manuscript of Anna Magdalena Bach, dated 1730.

As I limp along making work for this exhibition, the thought has grown in my mind that I no longer want to make art for awhile. Perhaps a year, maybe even more. At first I dismissed it as the usual stressed-artist hyperbole. When it didn't go away, I became very anxious, started feeling sick in the head - short and sharp attacks of chronic paranoia, unhappiness and panic. My instinct was to push harder and harder to try and reach a breakthrough on the other side - it's always worked before. I guess I did breakthrough, but unlike before, what I've found on the other side... is nothing. I feel a bit of shock, yet now I've really accepted it I feel a little calmer.

It's not something a holiday can fix, or even a fully paid- up residency, or a huge-ass commission. If I was invited to Venice today (haha, yeah, preposterous notion, but what the hell), I tell you honestly I'd feel no joy, only anxiety. But M.S. has asked me to collaborate with him at Asiatopia later in the year, and I feel quite happy about that. I've decided that I must try not to do too many things that cause me to feel anxious, or at some point I may find myself only ever acting out of fear for my career... Now, that's a far smaller life than I ever dreamed for myself.

Go to the places that feed you, not take things from you.

I was going to tell you about Bach's Cello Suites. I've been listening to it while I work and it's like having a friend who understands you and is uplifting you all at once! Cellos have a great old noble sound. I did have a night of great sex to the Cello Suites... so remembered warmth probably has alot to do with it. I highly recommend it. (The sex, and the music, and especially, both together)

Happy Post 05 - My head is a music toy made in China

A present from G. - one of my favorite things in the world. Been wanting to post an ode to it for a long time.

(Super) Happy Post 04 - Sailor Shirt Bliss

No time to post pics, but all my clothes dreams came true yesterday. The puffy sleeve sailor shirt I have been obsessing about for months (staring at it the through the boutique window, special trips to the mall where the boutique is so I can fondle it with a wistful look on my face, etc.) is mine mine mine! It is hanging in my closet - making me happy and making the other shirts cower in their non-awesome-non-puffy-sleeve-ness.

Betta (in the boutique): OMG it's on sale
Godzilla: *silence*
Betta (trying it on): Oh, should I get it? Is today the day?
Godzilla: *Exasperated* It's 50 percent! Just buy it and be done with it!
Betta (at the cash register): My dreams are coming true!
Godzilla: Well, it's not hard if you set the bar so low...

And then, dear reader, it gets better!! Godzilla spots ANOTHER sailor shirt - with lots of buttons and a strange detachable bib-thing on the front. I put it on for fun and we both ooh-ahhed at the reflection. And then when I came out of the dressing room she was paying for it on her plastic.

Godzilla: Present.
Betta: OMG. No? Rilly? No I can't. No you can't! No? Rilly? OMG
Godzilla: At least you can wear this one out.
Betta: OMG. Sniff. (Ignoring not-so-subtle insult to personal tastes)

Sigh. I wore bib-front to dinner yesterday, feeling like the Queen of the Nile.

I AM SO HAPPY. Ok baibai, I got to work now.

Happy Post 03 - Tomatomania

Ok, so three Happy Posts in a row are probably pushing it. But it's either that, or I write about how my first day back in KL already has me in tears. Yes dear reader, real tears - of frustration, fear and just... unhappiness. I want to say: it's this city. But this city is not my enemy, according to a song by J.K. it's just like a reckless friend. Looking down at Klang river from the LRT the other day was the same as looking into a mirror. I felt exactly like all that muddy, smelly water rushing and rushing somewhere... not knowing where, just going on, hoping to find a way to the open sea. Are you thinking of that scene in Spirited Away where the River God comes in for a bath? Me too...


Anyway, feast your eyes on Newt's home-grown tomatoes. They are red, big, how else can I say it, BULBOUS. So full of the sun and the earth - doesn't it make you realize that really the earth moves around the sun, which is a great star burning off energy? All that - just to have a tomato. It's amazing. As I said to Newt, I may come off with a readable poem now and then, but she grows TOMATOES.

Happy Post 02 - Selamat Membogel

I can't remember the last time I wanted to

...take all my clothes off and run naked down a mountain lane with absolutely nowhere to go and nothing to do. No doubt insects would be a concern, but on the upside - no tan-lines.

Well that's exactly how I felt during a recent trip up a mountain in Penang, where I will be spending the latter part of the year on an artist residency. I must say the accommodations are a little cell-like, a little heavy on the exposed concrete aesthetic, if you get my meaning. But I'm a big girl and I can take it, besides, it's nothing that a few feminine touches of domesticity can't make good again.

I was dreading this trip due to the insane amounts of work to be done back in KL, but once I caught sight of the sea, I could physically - let me emphasize this - physically register the immediate drop in stress levels. My phone kept ringing on the drive all the way up the hill, continued throughout the day in my little hut - and yet, I didn't feel like flinging my head into a wall. It was as if... hahah, they can reach me but can't get me! Hahahahha.

As I was saying, I wanted to take off my clothes and say to the sun: hello! Look at me! Yup, every god-blessed naked inch. Except that there ARE caretakers living on the mountain too and I didn't want to be rude.

I ate, bathed, finished the rest of Jose Saramago's extraordinary book Seeing in one sitting, I ate somemore, smoked (I actually enjoyed every cancerous breath, as opposed to needing the drug to steel my unsteady nerves), stared into space, walked. When night fell the jungle seemed to close in around me with its sounds and velvet darkness. I got a little scared then, but I put the light on, crawled under my mosquito net and fell into blessed, dreamless sleep.

I am back in KL again. My back aches, my head aches. My heart aches.

But at least I know what I was made for: getting stoned, happy, creative and butt naked. What an affirmation.

PS. still on basics with blogger, so no pics, not even topless ones. Sorry!

Happy Post 01 - Happy Cooking

Updated: Here is a picture of Chez Jacques (on the left) with a good friend of his. This picture of two old men sitting by a river fills my bosom with a strange mix of lust and extreme good-will. Do visit his website www.jacquespepin.net for free recipes and cooking tips like how to properly sharpen a knife or how to chop parsley.

-

So I have been quite unhappy lately, as if it takes a genius to figure out from my recent posts here. To alleviate the steady stream of misery, I have decided to introduce a new series called Happy Posts. My life right now is an exhausting ride of high highs and inexplicable lows, but there are quiet and simple things which I enjoy too - which I will try to share in my Happy Posts. Happy reading.

-

One thing that relieves this heaviness that I sometimes get in my head is watching Jacques Pepin's cooking show 'Fast Food My Way'. He is one of the world's top chefs, a master in French cuisine. Unlike big-dick cooks like Gordon 'F-word' Ramsay, Anthony Bourdain and Jamie Oliver , he makes cooking seem like the most joyful and natural thing in the world and even the worst food-dummy would find it impossible to be intimidated by him. I especially remember watching him kill a live lobster on TV with consummate grace and skill, and thinking to myself: I could do that. Yes, including the Lobster Fricassee which followed.

But I'm a lousy vegetarian, so I want to give you a fail-safe Jacques Pepin recipe for pasta primavera, or a pasta salad. I should know, because I just made it tonight! It is simple, healthy and delicious and it will make you feel better about life.

You'll need:
3/4 bag of pasta (I like to use big shells or bow-ties)
1 tub of fresh button mushrooms
3 small narrow English cucumbers (here, we can get Japanese ones - they're dark and knobbly)
1 big bag of cherry tomatoes (because generally our normal tomatoes are hateful and tasteless)
I bag of sweet basil leaves
olive oil
salt
cracked black pepper
some garlic

First heat a pot of water for the pasta. Add about 1 tsp salt to the water - for taste and to lower the boiling point.

As the water is boiling, prepare your vegetables. Have a big bowl ready because the whole salad will be mixed in there. Halve the cherry tomatoes. Slice mushrooms. Slice cucumbers quite thinly. (to prepare cucumbers, cut off both ends then rub the cut-offs against the ends of the cucumber to draw out the bitterness. Use a peeler to peel of 3 sections of skin so that you make a pretty pattern when you slice it). Tear basil leaves into rough pieces. Put all of this in the big bowl. Add olive oil, salt and pepper. Also add some chopped garlic (not too much ok? Maybe 1 small clove. All you want is a hint of it because this is a very fresh-tasting salad).

While you're preparing your vegetables, the water will have come to the boil. Add your pasta and cook for approx. 11 - 14mins, stirring constantly. Do not overcook your pasta - you want it to be al dente, which means it has some bite to it, but it is not still crunchy (crunchy means it's not cooked!).

Here is a secret tip. After your vegetables are ready, take two small scoops of the water that the pasta is boiling in and spoon it over the vegetables to soften them. This really makes it taste great.

Now drain your pasta, stir some olive oil through it to keep it from sticking. Add the pasta to your bowl of vegetables and olive oil. Toss well. Season to your taste. Voila!

I like to add cheese to mine to make it more filling. You can add some ham, bacon or sliced sausage.

The measurements I give here are for a whopping big bowl - something that will last you for days. So if you want less, you may want to halve everything.

Happy cooking.

-

PS. The editing functions are not working in blogger, hence no linking and images. Will be rectified soon.

My first year in fear

You have to understand that suffering does not make better art. Suffering - whether physical or mental pain - makes work difficult or impossible. I hate to spend any more time on suffering than what it already takes up - I hate to write or talk or make art about it.

What makes better art? Not talent. Talent makes good (great) art possible. Practice makes better art. In fact, when it comes to art, maybe even life, I think stubbornness trumps talent every time.

-

I remember I used to approach things with a sort of fearlessness. I have a Christian Boltanski quote about artist fear: 'I'm always a beginner, and the most important thing is always the next piece. We artists never know if we can do it again. You have done something - and most of the time I hate what I have done a few years ago - and you don't know if you can do something now. The good artists are usually the very young or the very old. The ones who are very young are so stupid that they have no fear. And when they are very old they aren't afraid any more. In the meantime, you are always, always, afraid.'

The thing about fearlessness is that you're not being particularly brave, it's just that it never occurs to you that you'll never NOT be able to make anything. Until recently, I thought I could go on producing things forever until the day I died - at a pace only hampered by physical limitations. I'd get tired - of myself, of what I did - but never scared.

This is my first year living with fear. It's like going to sleep in your own bed and waking up in someone else's house where everything feels strange and unsure. I remember meeting A.C. for the first time on the steps of a gallery I used to work in. I'd heard all about him - talented, sensitive, success at a young age - and then, a breakdown. We didn't speak for very long, but I really liked his eyes, even though they looked a bit wild.

When you go over the edge, you're never the same again. You can recover, maybe become older and wiser, but you can't go back to who you were. Sometimes you regret it terribly, because it's all you want to do - to go back and begin again before all that wasted time and energy. But I've met some people who come back and they live in their own skin again, whole and complete. There's never a guarantee.

Whatever it is, you have to try and make sure that you don't let yourself go over the edge, ok?

Updates

I'm working on a moon. A paper moon, to be exact.

I'm reading Seeing by Jose Saramago.

I'm listening to a house filled with music. The oldies have a huge reunion going on and our living room is overflowing with old bandmates. It warms the cockles of my heart to hear them rehearsing for a performance. It makes me think - of a dream that everyone has, some destination you've always had in your head, which you'll have until you lay down to rest for the last time... and everything depends how near or far you are to that destination at the end.

Also, you know, our parents really did have better music.

I'm wearing my silk shirt with a big ribbon bow at the neck (Z.: 'It keeps getting bigger!'), and new short short hair.

I'm visiting these two sites: Tongue In Chic for clothes and Muxtape.com for music.

I need

a holiday

Medley

Haven't felt like posting here too much lately. Lots of shit going down in my universe; it's a regular cosmic storm and I'm waiting for the planets to align themselves again. A few fleeting impressions:

The weather has been unaccountably pleasant recently. Someone attributed it to less drivers on the road due to the recent fuel price hike. Oh B., love your optimism darling, but it will take more than a few lousy Ringgit to prise Malaysians away from their vehicles of mass destruction (I know because I'm one of them). So I have been waking up to balmy, windy mornings and watching pretty evenings dissolve into night. It's lovely, but I've always found that good weather mocks my less than happy disposition.

'If you know about life, you hang on tight and don't let go'. Can't remember where I read that, but it's stuck somehow.

The wonderful Edward Winkleman has posted about confronting that squirm-in-your-pants awkward can't-remember-your-name situation. It is so nice to and reassuring to know that even seasoned, suave gallerists are human too! The sweetest part is that his partner Bambino jumps in to save him when he notices that Ed is in trouble! Yes, having a partner like that puts social faux pas into perspective - what's a little embarrassment when you know someone's always got your back.

'And he knew he would love her until the very last syllable of recorded time'. '...the very last syllable of recorded time' - in the whole of Patrick O'Brian's 16 volume opus I think that phrase stands out as a true gem. What does 'forever' mean to you?

I have a theory. Here it is: that people who come from broken families have very intense and skewed views on love and life. In my experience, I can tell pretty much instantly if someone is like me. They're often likeable, proud, willing to please, secretive and stubborn. Sometimes things like trust and loyalty feel like a matter of life and death to me, and there are subtle divisions and demarcations of honour and love that seem to be of such inflated importance as to seem pathological. As the years go by, you realize your parents are only human - flawed beings who did the best they could from what they had. From there, you have to decide to move on, or perpetuate destructive cycles which go back only Buddha knows how long. Sometimes you swing so wildly in the opposite direction - you want to try so very hard to overcome some perceived flaw or wrong, to convince yourself you are not, will not, will never be like them. If you are beautiful, if you are intelligent, successful, charming and friendly and loyal and nice then perhaps you can make it better. But no, only love can make whole the various hurts that the absence of love has caused. Unfortunately people who are unhappy never believe they deserve anything they haven't worked hard for.

So go give any control freaks you know a hug today. It's only a defense mechanism, they often can't help it.

That's why I love my work so much, too much. Because it loves me back exactly the same amount. It is mathematical, reliable 'until the very last syllable of recorded time'. So much of my ego is invested in it, that when I can't work I feel like I am dying.

I remember something D. said to me once: 'It's not your fault'. Devastated, there was only one other conclusion for me: 'Then it must be yours'.

Ah, hmmm. Anyways.