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2007-06-10 5:43AM / 標準BLOG / 會員可以看

hello friends, i have been getting some good feedback from a bunch of people all over the place- thanks for taking the time to email me and letting me in on your respective creative interests/achievements.

i have been working on a new painting and it is taking a bit of a longer time because i'm trying to be a bit more thoughtful with my work.

i sent out a bunch of my work to LA recently to see if i am good enough to be in a couple shows down there. there are some people that will be looking at my work and may be able to help me make something of this painting business. here's a look at a digital print that i am adding to traditionally.

the print:

and the print with a bit of traditional manipulation:

i dunno, what do you guys think?

also, i've been trying to read:

though my cover doesn't look like that, and it says comprehensive guide instead of practical guide. (?) but what a read it is, there is so much to book design if you really want to get into the nitty-gritty. i'm learning so much. it's a good one if anyone is interested in print/publishing of any form.

finally, i will be aways from toronto until june the 19th or 20th. please feel free still, to email or contact me. i will try my best to be around as much as possible.

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the watcher, mixed media, 2013

2013-05-29 11:01PM
so is spring to be an edamame,

2013-04-12 10:21AM
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2009-02-17 6:41AM
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2009-02-15 6:30AM
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2009-02-10 5:37PM

Tessar Lo

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i was born in indonesia. ...
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i was born in indonesia.
in 1989, my parents brought me to canada.

soyez amoureuses, vous serez heureuse.
d'où venons-nous? qui sommes-nous? où allons-nous?

I stopped and turned to look behind me. The slope twisted palely down toward the town like the tracks of some gigantic insect. I looked up at the sky then, under the moonlight, and glanced at my palm. With a rush of understanding I knew this wasn’t my hand anymore. I can’t explain it. But at a glance I knew. My hand was no longer my hand, my legs no longer my legs.

Bathed in the pallid moonlight, my body, like some plaster puppet, had lost all living warmth. As if a voodoo magician had put a spell on me, blowing my transient life into this lump of clay. The spark of life had vanished. My real life had fallen asleep somewhere, and a faceless someone was stuffing it in a suitcase, about to leave.

An awful chill swept through me and I felt choked. Someone had rearranged my cells, untied the threads that held my mind together. I couldn’t think straight. All I was able to do was retreat as fast as I could to my usual place of refuge. I took a huge breath, sinking in the sea of consciousness to the very bottom. Pushing aside the heavy water I plunged down quickly and grabbed a huge rock there with both arms. The water crushed my eardrums. I squeezed my eyes tightly closed, held my breath, resisting. Once I made up my mind, it wasn’t that difficult. I grew used to it all – the water pressure, the lack of air, the freezing darkness, the signals the chaos emitted. It was something I’d mastered again and again as a child.

Time reversed itself, looped back, collapsed, reordered itself. The worlds stretched out endlessly – and yet was defined and limited. Sharp images – just the images alone—passed down dark corridors, like jellyfish, like souls adrift. But I steeled myself not to look at them. If I acknowledged them, even a little they would envelop themselves in meaning. Meaning was fixed to the temporal, and the temporal was trying to force me to rise to the surface. I shut my mind tight to it all, waiting for the procession to pass.

How long I remained that way, I don’t know. When I bobbed to the surface, opened my eyes, and took a silent breath, the music had already stopped. The enigmatic performance was finished. I listened carefully. I couldn’t hear a thing. Absolutely nothing. No music, no people’s voices, no rustle of the wind.

-excerpt, Sputnik Sweetheart, Haruki Murakami

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職業: 畫家 , 作家 , 動物訓練師
性別: 男
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