blind children playing hide and seek, 1912 (via julian kücklich)
“i remember that the verb to find [trouver] does not first of all mean ‘to find,’ in the sense of a practical or scientific result. to find is to turn, to take a turn about, to go around. to come up with a song is to turn a melodic movement, to make it turn. no idea here of a goal, still less of a stopping. to find is almost exactly the same word as to ’seek’ [chercher], which means to ‘take a turn around.’” (maurice blanchot, the infinite conversation)
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 »we start talking to no one in particular, a no one without properties
“what a lovely name for a street.” feeling. still. yes. no. nostalgia. for something that will never be. alas. so we walk. we walk. with the need for dreams to commit suicide. sometimes. “c’est la chose la plus horrible à faire“. or is it. again and again. and an afternoon in the sun. tracing and retracing and walking anew. circles perhaps. fly. yes. fly again. it’s good to be in a place without lists and rows. construct to reconstruct or an economics as a doing. in the city. it would be nice to see what we cannot see. “precisely to fill the emptiness with emptiness, and thus to share it.” you do with it what you will. never a prescription for life. and yes we are left ‘inconcluded’. always. upon arriving home a message overheard from the new york subway through to london: “everyone knows. that love. belongs in the microwave. for two minutes.” 哈! thank you maria.
Posted by a | reply »samples, what to say
he had definitely found it….
…see more here
Posted by joe | 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 »ideas about karaoke
recorded at Lee Kit’s “Someone singing and calling your name”, december 2009
Posted by 丫 | reply »alone and drinking under the moon
Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.
- Li Po (701-762)
Yvette And Doreen are taking a seminar on Li Po at the Poughkeepsie Center for the Eastern Arts.
Yvette: How interesting.
Doreen: How delightful.
Yvette: The moon, a man talking to the moon… you gotta come up with that…
Doreen: Yes ha… quite unexpected.
Yvette: …Turn off your cell-phone, Doreen.
Doreen: It’s on vibrate.
Yvette: I know Doreen, but I can still hear it. It’s not nice for the other people.
Doreen: …
Yvette: (to student B to her left) We’re sorry, it’s just her… cell phone. (To Doreen) You see?
Doreen: If I didn’t know you, I’d think you can’t stand me.
Yvette: Shhh, it was your idea to come here so be quiet please, let me learn.
Doreen starts sobbing and takes out a huge vibrator from her purse. She stands up and starts waving it on the air. The whole class is staring at her.
Doreen: So now you can see… it wasn’t my cell phone, no, it was this. How depressing am I? How desperate?
Instructor: Excuse me miss, but I actually think that you are the only person here who really understood what Li Po was trying to say. It’s exactly that acknowledgement that we are alone even when we are surrounded by people. That false sense that our despair is shared by the people who seem to care the most. Bravo, miss…?
Yvette: Doreen, she’s Doreen and I’m her best friend Yvette.
Doreen stares at Yvette and sees in her eyes the truth of a lifelong friendship. Yvette puts her arms around Doreen. While Doreen is trying to put her vibrator back in her purse, it falls on the head of Student D, who’s sitting right in front of her. A moment of nervousness is followed by a relaxed and shared laugh in the whole class.
Posted by lucio | more »Zürich night
Photo courtesy of Nic Shepherd
Some 15 minutes after having been abandoned at the Perla Mode by an American living in Zürich, I found him again at another opening at a small exhibition space called Les Complices. He made some comment about how I was typically Canadian because of the desire I expressed (which admittedly had structured my last 5 years) to keep going out rather than back to North America. I had not assigned value to my statement, and in my view it could indeed be taken as a lack of control and capriciousness. The space, which had a DJ playing, was a queer art space. I was not sure if my jocular, drunk brotherness was appreciated, and I was in the mood to joke. Out front one of the drunk women, who turned out to be a Canadian from Montreal, tried to convince her acquaintances to go out to a non-gay place to dance. She appeared to be quite drunk, and unless I was mistaken, the other two were not very fond of her. She had pimples. The other two returned to their friends inside and I was left, so she asked me and I thought, why not, I’d like to go dancing. We walked arm in arm down the street to a place right on Langstrasse. She joked with the bouncer who tried to remain stern, they were obviously familiar with each other, and it made me feel that this was a small town. Inside it was hip hop night, and various large men rocked back and forth in the red velvet surroundings. She knew someone (although they claimed they hadn’t known each other before) and they began talking. She asked me to buy her a drink, but I really had no money on me. This other girl seemed to be looking for someone to go home with. They asked me if I wanted to fuck, said that it was what everyone in the room wants. I joked that I was a virgin and the girl believed me, appeared to take pity on me, which made me uncomfortable – when I retracted the statement she asked me what kind of lover I was. I motioned to some of the large men standing near the turntables “maybe they want to fuck.” She considered this and went to see about it. When the lesbian’s back was also turned I used the opportunity to slip out the front door with my backpack on. I walked home along the vacant street car lines. I kept thinking of the girl’s sad expression when she said she came to the bar quite regularly, but no one had interest in fucking her. It made me kind of sad too.
[courtesy of Michael Eddy, October 2009]
Posted by o | reply »took a bike ride, found Robin Hood
to find and not find the centre of things, all things aside
above: putting up the exhibition (photo by 高灵 Gao Ling); below: walking back after finishing the installation ｜ 上海 shanghai，2009年9月
i am sorry. time is everything.
cannot go there, too much or too little, traveling, hanging there, a collection, hanging on. i seem to have an affinity for stories of people getting lost, perhaps a bit too direct a reference yet were i to introduce myself to you as that one who liked to find this little thing in the street it perhaps would remain too ridiculously nebulous.
direct.
direction.
we would have been looking in the wrong direction to go astray, to find the beside. aside, as in put in reserve, for future use, the collection of objects for which we may find value or function at another time. we never know what will become useful in the end, or the lessons come too late, i feel the top of her head and wonder what positions i layed in as a child, what positions i moved in sleep, next to you or dreaming without you. we cannot always think so functionally, in love and in war. i don’t strategize very well. but we may very well have a hunch.
a hunch is an open space of time, a forethought without expectation, like a collection of random things for which we may find use later. i suppose it could be important to figure out how to make use of them, but perhaps their being together could be enough. find meaning beyond use value, a cabinet of curiousities, our collection of oddities.
that’s the thing i’ve been missing lately. to take time for my collection of oddities, to try to go back to a certain kind of objectivity without expecting too much. i have a hunch. perhaps i was looking in the wrong direction and now find myself lost, a story that i liked to hear, her voice in two languages on loop. it’s my own aside that is now addressed to you, without letting the other characters hear, a story shared without knowing if anyone is listening. you, dear audience member or director, the lights are shining so bright…i cannot see if you are out there.
Posted by 丫 | reply »for a minute
The most difficult part of living in that castle was utilizing all the space. I was alone at the time and passing through those immense empty rooms just shed light on how solitary this life could be if I allowed it. Not to mention my phobia of immense empty spaces. So of course I invited all my friends to live with me. That still left a few rooms empty. So each empty room was designated as studios, mapping rooms, a greenhouse, a giant laser building workshop, etc.
The location was great as well. We had a great view looking west over the East River, an empty lot to the south and a junk yard to the north. The east side of the building faced the street where we could easily load and unload from the building. I wasn’t about to call it a utopia but it seemed like a nice little niche that we had carved out.
I thought that the “trick door” on the south side of the building would be great to keep just in case I decided to turn evil. It would be something that would really get me going by telling someone that the next room over was absolutely amazing . . . go ahead, just walk through that door. In the end, I knew it would only be used to take in the views of the south.
The castle was in a bit of disrepair but I’d figure that we could start on that the next day as it was getting dark and we had no food inside. This meant I would have to leave the grounds and venture back into town . . .
Posted by joe | reply »