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long post.
2007-06-23 10:44AM / 標準BLOG / 會員可以看

okay, okay so here's the breakdown.

i went to calabogie and quebec from the june 11-17. i was gone for about one week but i was getting very desperate to go home. calabogie, (and the four hour drive there) had inspired me somewhat and i needed to expel some imagery i had in my head. i had brought along my sketchbook, but there was just no satisfaction in the execution of the work. what ended up happening was some bad sketching and me feeling completely stiffled. needless to say, once i got back i felt like i was breathing again and i started painting immediately. that painting, which is now 95% will be up on the site soon. suffice to say, being out in the wilderness was quite relaxing, despite the non-painting thing. here are some pictures:

between my return and now, i have been painting, talking to some "long-lost" friends and spending some good ol'-fashioned quality time with my sister.

yesterday was the harvey chan vs jon todd sk8 show at the distillery.. it's on till the 28th, details here. it was a lot of fun and the work was great, the pictures on the net do not do the paintings any justice. i went down early with my sister to check out the deaf culture centre, have some coffee and just check the distillery out. it was young, sexy, wealthy... everything i'm not, haha. also ended up seeing some people i hadn't seen since school let out. here are some pictures from yesterday/night:

my sister at the entrance of the deaf culture centre. they do great art shows by deaf people which is very cool on my list.

this is a motion sensor thing that creates patterns and visual representation of sign language, or any hand movement for that matter. it's a smaller scale of a project that was done in the past involving someone named bruce mau.. ooh. also very cool.

the walk outside, the weather was perfect.

then the show:

obviously, very packed.

some cool cats, marky cabuena and fred "eyo freddie!" hon were there to schmooze.
yeesh.

the work, still hot.

harvey chan with yours truly. who's who? hahah, kidding- i'm obviously the cute guy in the red.(?)

afterwards, we just chilled outside- catching up a bit. this is eshwin, and chase from milk your mind.

so all in all.. i've been enjoying the summer. i hope you guys are too. also, i've been listening to some pizzicato five, so you can't even hate.. it's adding to my sweet june. till the next batpost...

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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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