The Squid and The Whale, "if you know what I'm talking about".
Because its better to be a whale than a squid. Whales inspire major novels.
This time last year I was in New York. This time this year I'm in my basement wishing I was in New York. This time next year, perhaps I'll be in New York wishing I was back in New York, "if you know what I'm talking about".
Because New York isn't really New York unless you're not there.
Perhaps no-where, or -body, really is unless one is without.
(Belafonte/The Whale/Jacques-Yves Costeau/Calypso)
2006-09-23
so a guy wants to cross a distance. lets call that distance X.
But before he can cross that, he has to cross half of that. makes sense, right? but extrapolate that. before he crosses that half, he has to cross half of that half. and prior to that, half of that half of that half. half of half of half of half of half. before crossing each half he has to cross the half of that half. it goes on toward infinity. forget your preconceptions and think of it purely within this theoretical boundary. by this logic, it is impossible for him to cross the length of X because before that he has to cross an infinity of halfs which he is unable to do because he is unable to cross the half before that half he has to cross. (its called -somethings- paradox. what -something- is, i forget.)
it makes sense on paper but in real life we know he just has to take a first step. but i think this introduces the concept of the infinity. maybe it is also a metaphor about how absolute conception of the inifinite within our finite perception is absolutely paralysing.
can we wrap our heads around infinity? i dare not. but in thinking about it, i wonder- is infinity linear or is it a loop? taking it in the context of time, if it were an infinite loop, i think it has two depressing conclusions we can draw from our limited understanding of it.
1) we are doomed (or blessed) to repeat ourselves. you will read this again.
2) if we are doomed to repeat ourselves, it means what will happen has happened. and i have serious personal grievances with the notion that we have no control over our future.
if it were linear. well. that be easier to accept but harder to understand.
i don't know. i don't even know why im writing this, but i feel compelled. its been on the back of my mind for the past few days and i've been chasing my own tail.
what do you think?
But before he can cross that, he has to cross half of that. makes sense, right? but extrapolate that. before he crosses that half, he has to cross half of that half. and prior to that, half of that half of that half. half of half of half of half of half. before crossing each half he has to cross the half of that half. it goes on toward infinity. forget your preconceptions and think of it purely within this theoretical boundary. by this logic, it is impossible for him to cross the length of X because before that he has to cross an infinity of halfs which he is unable to do because he is unable to cross the half before that half he has to cross. (its called -somethings- paradox. what -something- is, i forget.)
it makes sense on paper but in real life we know he just has to take a first step. but i think this introduces the concept of the infinity. maybe it is also a metaphor about how absolute conception of the inifinite within our finite perception is absolutely paralysing.
can we wrap our heads around infinity? i dare not. but in thinking about it, i wonder- is infinity linear or is it a loop? taking it in the context of time, if it were an infinite loop, i think it has two depressing conclusions we can draw from our limited understanding of it.
1) we are doomed (or blessed) to repeat ourselves. you will read this again.
2) if we are doomed to repeat ourselves, it means what will happen has happened. and i have serious personal grievances with the notion that we have no control over our future.
if it were linear. well. that be easier to accept but harder to understand.
i don't know. i don't even know why im writing this, but i feel compelled. its been on the back of my mind for the past few days and i've been chasing my own tail.
what do you think?
2006-09-18
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..."
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