the text and images below are posted from beijing, berlin, hong kong, new york, sado island and zürich. there are a few of us, and this is the space in between.

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stretching out, levitation

Posted by f | reply »

kind of, sometimes

to the old lady working at the internet cafe, whom i could slam a hundred times in aftermath but only saw my childish smile in backwards retreat, we could make an example of you in our courteous, civilised new metropolis, as per a certain someone said i was often wont to do, some sort of ethnographic approach to what lack of humanity there may be in world of screens and headphones, of blank faces and pounding hearts, why in the world should i wish to make an example of you, sickly woman with cracked face who sits in the dark by day, your rule this world perhaps and i am mere observer, a hasty brushing off sends me away, without being able to engage in the very services that you offer. or the mistake that we make in this situation is that working for the money (the system that creates low wage working conditions, the worker that desires to fill this position for lack of better opportunity, because it is easy, because it is simply what is there) eliminates the very ‘you’ of this equation, for You, Other, are simply no longer there. This is not an issue of being looked down upon or prejudiced, it is the disappearance of another all together. Combined with the last 61 years of our lack of self, we come back in full force with an overbearing subjectivity that oppresses all not-self as well. it leads us to a form of exchange without humanity whatsoever, but what sort of presumption was that, anyway.

i cringed when he mentioned that words had been missing of late, but the lack of literature could have been a parallel to a similar decline of the sense of being. i am present, perhaps, in some way, a childish half-smile, but it’s only half-shock, a blinding before anger sets in, what was that about to solidify, hard-set equations, exchange is never all that, i kind of hate you sometimes, kind of, sometimes.

Posted by 丫 | reply »

wasted time, excessive time, suspended time, comrades

“But when we begin to question our projects, to doubt or reformulate them, the present, the contemporary, becomes important, even central for us. This is because the contemporary is actually constituted by doubt, hesitation, uncertainty, indecision—by the need for prolonged reflection, for a delay. We want to postpone our decisions and actions in order to have more time for analysis, reflection, and consideration. And that is precisely what the contemporary is—a prolonged, even potentially infinite period of delay. Søren Kierkegaard famously asked what it would mean to be a contemporary of Christ, to which his answer was: It would mean to hesitate in accepting Christ as Savior. The acceptance of Christianity necessarily leaves Christ in the past. In fact, Descartes already defined the present as a time of doubt—of doubt that is expected to eventually open a future full of clear and distinct, evident thoughts.”

–boris groys, comrades of time

Posted by f | reply »



先週の木曜日、星ヶ丘洋裁学校で秋のフェスタの特別授業として開催させていただいたワークショップは5人の方に参加していただきました。今回はミシンの設 備のないギャラリーでの開催ということもあり、当初みなさんにはエプロンの部分だけを手縫いで作っていただく予定だったのですが、参加されていた方の希望 もあり、かっぽう着作りの一通りを一緒に進めて行く内容に変更しました。そのため、作業量のかなり多い内容になりましたが、時間も大幅に延長させていただ き、なんとか5人5様のかっぽう着の出来あがりがイメージできるところまで作り、仕上げは自宅でというかたちで持ち帰っていただきました。

一 度に詰め込んでたくさんのことをしたので、参加者の方はちょっと消化不良…!?だったのでは、と心配していますが、一通り手を動かして仕上げれば、個々の 作業への理解も後から付いてくると思います。また実際着てみることでも、身体の動きと衣服の構造の関係というのも経験できます。ぜひ、また2着目、3着目 に挑戦していただき、自分に合った着やすいかっぽう着を発見していただければと思います。


そ れにしても、星ヶ丘洋裁学校、ほとんど丸一日の時間を過ごさせていただきましたが、ほんとうに静かな時間のながれる、すてきな場所でした。ワークショップ が、うまく進められるかどうかとても心配でしたが、敷地内に入ると、前から知っていた場所のように心が落ち着き、その気持ちをまん中に据えて、行うことが できました。ありがとうございました。

Posted by anyway | more »

in passing, black-capped chickadee

Michael writes to H.F:  “We enjoy the space between being ‘in the know’ and simply being attentive to one’s social environment where the unexpected may occur, setting up an interaction that will provide a meaningful communication, ‘loading the decks’.”

[photos by 戴璞 Dai Pu]

It ends with a face in rain, or two, that washed away one after the other like passing faces in a party.

The next day, he sends me a message: “One day I will explain to you why things are so complicated.”

And then it becomes difficult to respond, silence an only recourse, uncovering to plot thickening. The loneliness amidst joyful crowds, like the stripping away of an impersonator who says, “I don’t know. I was born that way.”

People ask questions all the time to which we must answer, “I don’t know.” I can’t remember anymore which way it was when i was born, but somehow I always return to a letter read as a child, from an old woman. I read her as if I were her already, so confounded by the inexplicability of my thoughts, to the possibility of their being expressed. It seems now, in future, utterly impossible to answer any question asked of me. I find less and less the words to place the complexities of my feeling.

Perhaps now back outside of each of those moments, I could answer each of you in turn, eloquently and honestly. Like an old woman’s remembrance of the sound of a black-capped chickadee, a doing nothing kind of being or simply, so simply, the fullness of…

Posted by 丫 | reply »

a little of switzerland or something in Vietnam


I met my grandfather on my father’s side, who turns 96 this year, for the third time. In 1996, I went ‘back’ to Vietnam for the first time to attend my grandmother’s funeral. My mother’s parents passed away when she was still little. Simone and me visited ‘Gong’ (grandfather in Teo Chew, our Chinese Dialect from Shantou, 汕头 in Guangdong) in Ho-Chi Minh City for 5 days. I consider myself as an ‘Overseas Chinese’, because Chinese Culture/Tradition was passed on to us. However ‘Home’ for my parents has always been Vietnam, because they were born and grew up as ‘Overseas Chinese’ in Bac Lieu, South-Vietnam. We stayed with my uncle’s family who look after ‘Gong’ and everybody in ‘our’ neighborhood knew that the two of us were the relatives abroad from Switzerland. We went every day down to his room and were talking to him in Teo Chew. I was happy to see ‘Gong’, but in some ways he was a stranger to me, but I did notice similarities to my father. ‘Gong’ knew all the facts (school, profession, salary…) about his grandchildren and kept on asking us if it’s true that Binh, my second oldest sister, has become a lawyer. He also kept on asking if we really got the grant from Pro Helvetia and if we are really working on our project in Beijing. He said proudly that he is amazed how many languages his grandchildren speak. Somehow he thought Linh, my oldest sister, speaks Italian, what is NOT true…Pictures of us grandchildren and my parents were hanging on the wall. I recognize our old apartment in Solothurn, my Swiss hometown. I see family picture of us when we were little. All those pictures are part of my memories from Switzerland and are hanging on the wall in my grandfather’s room on the second floor at Binh Toi No133/5/3 in the 11th district of Ho-Chi Minh City – Saigon, how my parents still call the city! In the morning on our last day before we left for the airport we went down to ‘Gong’ to say goodbye. Both us took a picture with him to capture this moment. He wished us a save journey to Beijing and asked me: Is Beijing nice? I think he has never been to Beijing and has never returned to China since he moved to Vietnam.

Posted by mon | reply »

la commune, the mexican train

The kind of guttural yelp that cannot find the words, at twilight, a half twisted smile of utter beauty and ghostly pain. I wish I could describe it to you better. Don’t read the about page; read what brought you here in the first place; read what makes you stay or go away; read and write and read and write and read and right. “Finding a balance between reflection and action”, these words don’t make much sense here, but it somehow lies that these words are precursors to something else, perhaps a coming together or a realisation that we are not at all. He says that ‘.networks’ are preferable to ‘.organisations’, and I suppose it goes along with one’s thinking about maneuverability, the possibilities for participation, connectivity. And ideals? I tear up.

So one acts alone, feverishly, perhaps to meet much dismay from the others. They come and they go. A guttural yelp. Let us restore that expression, something precursory to sensibility, an affect but all alone and thinking of you — fuck, it’s selfish. A conversation or just fantastic screaming. The ridiculous. He asks, “能说 ‘rational’ 来代表人吗?” Yes, perhaps.

So what could we do, too much expressionistically, moreso rationally? If I am not allowed to use the word “we” anymore, dare i say another?

Let me restore meaning to participation. Or I would like to. I would like to consider the empty spaces of respect, the distances necessary in love, in friendship and even intimacy. I would like to love you again. I would like to restore meaning to collectivity, to citizenship, to being all alone in the world. I would like to rethink my ways of relating to another, to rethink work and life and work in life. To make time to rethink, period.

The fool says too much again. Anarchically, anachronistically. Words that topple on top of words of words of words. iwishicoulddescribeittoyoubetter is now a network. Ha. Whatever that means…

Posted by 丫 | more »

祝你没边没沿的快乐。。。keep dancing!

and hope you are having a good time, well into your 30’s—-knowledge and wisdom much further beyond… 生日快乐 happy birthday, rl… muchlovefromafar

Posted by 丫 | reply »