softcore days hardcore nights
high house of cards
hardcore days hardcore nights
come off that high horse
everything- flaccid like jelly
(translucent too)
2006-09-08
the object of memory/the memory of objects
concept_
Objects come loaded with a personal and shared history. Upon these peels of memories we spin further layers, mixing them into a chauldron of nightmare dreams and pony fantasies.
Many of these memories are buried in our subconscious, ferreted there through the proxy of our 5 senses. The limited scope of our sensory capabilities means that overlaps can and do occur. When this happens, like click of little red shoes, one is transported to within the labyrinth of our mind- a kansas tinted deja vu. The object is thus, as the agent of remembering, layered upon the memory of that memory, while at the same time weaving a unique memory of its own.
An object without a memory has not been experienced and thus does not exist.
concept in 3D_
A paper frieze built upon the image of steel trusses- when unfolded, it snakes around, forming a tangible "memory labyrinth", where the participant must physically peruse through the different panels, slowly revealing the peels of memory imprinted upon that structure. LIke the nature of memory, there is no coherent system of arrangement within the whole, though there are parts that relate. Through my execution I arrived at the conclusion of 3 distinct layers of memory - the memory of the past (memory of memory), the memory of the immediate (memory of experience), and the memory of the process (memory of action/reaction).
When done, the labyrinth folds back into itself. The memories scurry to hide behind the image of the steel truss.
After all, memory is a shy creature - "There is a secret bond between slowness and memory... the degree of slowness is directly proportional to the intensity of memory." (Milan Kundera. Thank you Colin/Mr. Seah for that lecture.)
The use of the frieze also ties in with the notion that the structure studied is a product of mass production. It is supported at regular intervals by these steel trusses, so imagine- it is infinitely expandable. It streches for as long as the supports allow. (how many do you want to cut out? its easy, really.)
snippets from the Memory Labyrinth_
_on the memory of experience
"Smell is the mute sense, the one without words. Lacking a vocabulary, we are left tongue-tied, groping for words i na sea of inarticulate pleasure and exaltation." - The History of the Senses.
Smell is the rawest of our senses, one I can never remember, only recognize.
_on the memory of action/reaction
Sitting atop Mount Emily, the structure has the quality of being within but not part of the city. One experiences a transition from the white noise chaos of the city to one of peace and the serene nature of nature, like the ripples when a pebble ploumps into water.
_on the memory of memory
The memory of a memory is mostly one of sepia-tinted childhood which ripens like wine. Sweet nostalgia given to the forgetful blur of time, letting us build a proverbial house of memories with the white porch, low picket fence and a dog in the yard.
concept_
Objects come loaded with a personal and shared history. Upon these peels of memories we spin further layers, mixing them into a chauldron of nightmare dreams and pony fantasies.
Many of these memories are buried in our subconscious, ferreted there through the proxy of our 5 senses. The limited scope of our sensory capabilities means that overlaps can and do occur. When this happens, like click of little red shoes, one is transported to within the labyrinth of our mind- a kansas tinted deja vu. The object is thus, as the agent of remembering, layered upon the memory of that memory, while at the same time weaving a unique memory of its own.
An object without a memory has not been experienced and thus does not exist.
concept in 3D_
A paper frieze built upon the image of steel trusses- when unfolded, it snakes around, forming a tangible "memory labyrinth", where the participant must physically peruse through the different panels, slowly revealing the peels of memory imprinted upon that structure. LIke the nature of memory, there is no coherent system of arrangement within the whole, though there are parts that relate. Through my execution I arrived at the conclusion of 3 distinct layers of memory - the memory of the past (memory of memory), the memory of the immediate (memory of experience), and the memory of the process (memory of action/reaction).
When done, the labyrinth folds back into itself. The memories scurry to hide behind the image of the steel truss.
After all, memory is a shy creature - "There is a secret bond between slowness and memory... the degree of slowness is directly proportional to the intensity of memory." (Milan Kundera. Thank you Colin/Mr. Seah for that lecture.)
The use of the frieze also ties in with the notion that the structure studied is a product of mass production. It is supported at regular intervals by these steel trusses, so imagine- it is infinitely expandable. It streches for as long as the supports allow. (how many do you want to cut out? its easy, really.)
snippets from the Memory Labyrinth_
_on the memory of experience
"Smell is the mute sense, the one without words. Lacking a vocabulary, we are left tongue-tied, groping for words i na sea of inarticulate pleasure and exaltation." - The History of the Senses.
Smell is the rawest of our senses, one I can never remember, only recognize.
_on the memory of action/reaction
Sitting atop Mount Emily, the structure has the quality of being within but not part of the city. One experiences a transition from the white noise chaos of the city to one of peace and the serene nature of nature, like the ripples when a pebble ploumps into water.
_on the memory of memory
The memory of a memory is mostly one of sepia-tinted childhood which ripens like wine. Sweet nostalgia given to the forgetful blur of time, letting us build a proverbial house of memories with the white porch, low picket fence and a dog in the yard.
2006-09-06
2006-08-24
2006-08-20
Down in Albion, we're black and blue- but shhh we don't talk about that.
Are you from Albion? Oh, hello! how do you do? Come lets talk about that. Over gin in teacups, of violet passions and yellowing classics (the colour of our teeth cracked in smiles)- its okay we're all from Albion.
But if you're looking for a cheap sunset or a trinket story its in false anticipation. I'll be waiting in the photo booth (its a neoprint station). If you'll smile I'll smile and print a memory we'll never remember.
Are you from Albion? Oh, hello! how do you do? Come lets talk about that. Over gin in teacups, of violet passions and yellowing classics (the colour of our teeth cracked in smiles)- its okay we're all from Albion.
But if you're looking for a cheap sunset or a trinket story its in false anticipation. I'll be waiting in the photo booth (its a neoprint station). If you'll smile I'll smile and print a memory we'll never remember.
2006-08-18
do you think thinking burns calories?
i think so. that would explain my weight loss in sec 3/4 and my good O level results, the subsequent weight gain in JC and the poor results, the flab from office life (its not the physical inactivity that gets you- its the mental void) and finally now i am getting gaunt of cheeks.
i think so. that would explain my weight loss in sec 3/4 and my good O level results, the subsequent weight gain in JC and the poor results, the flab from office life (its not the physical inactivity that gets you- its the mental void) and finally now i am getting gaunt of cheeks.
2006-08-02
in reference to my previous post, because you see i'm like that- I write letters that have postscripts and post-postscripts and so on so forth. BUT i digress.
so as i was saying, in reference to my previous post, (consider this a pt. 2), theres something devilishly nasty, (in an impish manner), about drinking liquor out of an innocent coffee cup. its like having sex in your parents bed (i've never done that) or stealing chocolate (nope, never done that either). but you know what i mean.
"when i speak, no one believes me. when i write it down, people know its true."
so as i was saying, in reference to my previous post, (consider this a pt. 2), theres something devilishly nasty, (in an impish manner), about drinking liquor out of an innocent coffee cup. its like having sex in your parents bed (i've never done that) or stealing chocolate (nope, never done that either). but you know what i mean.
"when i speak, no one believes me. when i write it down, people know its true."
2006-07-31
2006-07-22
2006-05-29
Driving home from Jon's place, I was blessed with the serendipity of coasting through 5 green lights in a row. Passing through each gateway brought mounting tension and joy. "Yes! I made it through!" followed by "will I make the next one?". You know how it is- the higher you are, the harder you fall.
After the fifth green light, the subsequent 6th, 7th and 8th shone an angry red, nullifying what would have otherwise qualified as a homerun. Thus, the net score for the night stood at 2-green-lights-in-a-row.
If I said "make a wish if you pass through 3 greenlights in a row", you would dismiss it as Lennard Being Silly. And so I add the necessary "someone once told me that...", thus sanctifying it as fact/urban-legend.
perhaps thats how the four leaf clover, brokenglass and walking-under-the-ladder-type stories started- "I heard that if you..."
After the fifth green light, the subsequent 6th, 7th and 8th shone an angry red, nullifying what would have otherwise qualified as a homerun. Thus, the net score for the night stood at 2-green-lights-in-a-row.
If I said "make a wish if you pass through 3 greenlights in a row", you would dismiss it as Lennard Being Silly. And so I add the necessary "someone once told me that...", thus sanctifying it as fact/urban-legend.
perhaps thats how the four leaf clover, brokenglass and walking-under-the-ladder-type stories started- "I heard that if you..."
2006-05-19
i'm jealous of you and now you will be my wife.
its like the sun and alcohol because everything revolves around it fuelled by cigarette smoke wisping through our clothes staining it the colour teeth. a stork will fly past at night with no package and don't ask why not. the wrong questions are the ones with the answers. the right questions no one answers because no one asks it.
i am jealous of the moon. i am envious of the sun. you don't have to ask me why, i'll tell you when i will. remember that the right questions are the ones no one answers, so don't ask it.
its like the sun and alcohol because everything revolves around it fuelled by cigarette smoke wisping through our clothes staining it the colour teeth. a stork will fly past at night with no package and don't ask why not. the wrong questions are the ones with the answers. the right questions no one answers because no one asks it.
i am jealous of the moon. i am envious of the sun. you don't have to ask me why, i'll tell you when i will. remember that the right questions are the ones no one answers, so don't ask it.
2006-05-09
i'm still alive still well barely breathing
just saw 5 Takes on discovery and thats the reason i'm breathless - with excitement, anticipation and fear of my upcoming trip to Europe. Will i survive in haughty france? how about the movie Hostel?! and my money - will i get robbed/cheated/conned, or just plain blow it all during my first week in amsterdam?
flashback to bring you up to date on the plot. come may 31 i leave for London for a 50-odd day trek through Europe with yoon. London - Amsterdam - Berlin - Prague - Krakow - Budapest - Brasov - Bucharest - Athens - Corfu - Rome - Venice - Marsellies - Barcelona - Pomplona - Bilbao - Bordeaux - Paris - London. Whew! try say it in one breath. I can barely remember it offhand.
so thats whats new. I got back from bali-jakarta a few weeks back.
Bali was dead quiet for what used to be a tourist town. its horrible what the bombings did. I visited the two bomb sites and they had a giant memorial erected at one. i didn't get to surf cause of the (mostly) wet weather but i did eat at this place where they roasted a WHOLE pig and when you order they pull the meat off and slap it on a plate of rice with this oh-so-delicious clear oily sauce that had chopped chillies and onions in it.
jakarta on the other hand was like right out of "blade runner". Apocalyptically chaotic but somehow it worked. maybe the chaos theory doth work huh. the motorcycle riders there were like mosquitos, bzzzzing everywhere, seemingly from out of nowhere. I could be taking a dump and i wouldn't be surprised if a 50cc beeped past me. the young-uns in jakarta also had this odd fashion of wearing their helmet backwards. i kid you not.
but the oddest thing i found. okay not oddest, but weird thing, was that - all indonesian mcdonald's outlets had no breakfast menu! or milkshakes! but the burgers were really nice- the buns were super greasy and so was the patty. mmmMmmmMm.
ok i've covered my past, my future so on to the now. My direct neighbour's doing maj renovations with involves LOTS of drilling. it feels like i'm living in the mouth of a dentist's patients. and my dads a dentist. har de har. poetic justice for the pain he's inflicted? just kidding. he's the best. (seriously. want an appt? ask me- i hook you up goood).
found a killer section at the new national library. found this book on the unique 'space' of architecture and why traditional art-critique doesn't work because of it. it blew my mind reading it today till these gaggle of students came chittychittybangbang and sat their noisy asses next to me. i told them to shhhhhh tho. does that make me a prick? but its a goddamn library! it should be silent as the grave. architecture will save your soul.
ciao
just saw 5 Takes on discovery and thats the reason i'm breathless - with excitement, anticipation and fear of my upcoming trip to Europe. Will i survive in haughty france? how about the movie Hostel?! and my money - will i get robbed/cheated/conned, or just plain blow it all during my first week in amsterdam?
flashback to bring you up to date on the plot. come may 31 i leave for London for a 50-odd day trek through Europe with yoon. London - Amsterdam - Berlin - Prague - Krakow - Budapest - Brasov - Bucharest - Athens - Corfu - Rome - Venice - Marsellies - Barcelona - Pomplona - Bilbao - Bordeaux - Paris - London. Whew! try say it in one breath. I can barely remember it offhand.
so thats whats new. I got back from bali-jakarta a few weeks back.
Bali was dead quiet for what used to be a tourist town. its horrible what the bombings did. I visited the two bomb sites and they had a giant memorial erected at one. i didn't get to surf cause of the (mostly) wet weather but i did eat at this place where they roasted a WHOLE pig and when you order they pull the meat off and slap it on a plate of rice with this oh-so-delicious clear oily sauce that had chopped chillies and onions in it.
jakarta on the other hand was like right out of "blade runner". Apocalyptically chaotic but somehow it worked. maybe the chaos theory doth work huh. the motorcycle riders there were like mosquitos, bzzzzing everywhere, seemingly from out of nowhere. I could be taking a dump and i wouldn't be surprised if a 50cc beeped past me. the young-uns in jakarta also had this odd fashion of wearing their helmet backwards. i kid you not.
but the oddest thing i found. okay not oddest, but weird thing, was that - all indonesian mcdonald's outlets had no breakfast menu! or milkshakes! but the burgers were really nice- the buns were super greasy and so was the patty. mmmMmmmMm.
ok i've covered my past, my future so on to the now. My direct neighbour's doing maj renovations with involves LOTS of drilling. it feels like i'm living in the mouth of a dentist's patients. and my dads a dentist. har de har. poetic justice for the pain he's inflicted? just kidding. he's the best. (seriously. want an appt? ask me- i hook you up goood).
found a killer section at the new national library. found this book on the unique 'space' of architecture and why traditional art-critique doesn't work because of it. it blew my mind reading it today till these gaggle of students came chittychittybangbang and sat their noisy asses next to me. i told them to shhhhhh tho. does that make me a prick? but its a goddamn library! it should be silent as the grave. architecture will save your soul.
ciao
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)