Haven't written for a while. Am a real sucker for a balcony. It's a way to be and breathe. Don't really like watching TV, and let someone else project images into my head. We're such suckers for distraction, as if afraid of our own thoughts, we while ourselves away doing things we would never care to remember. Now, I'm in my little yard, 1.5m in length, 0.5 m in width, with a bottle of hoegaarden and some doritos. Angel, as usual, took first licks at the beer and the chips. Facing my lime plant, and half-chewed palm-like plant, watching the sky and our foreign talents playing cricket in the field across me. Used to write when it rains, half-wishing it would rain now.There's the litter of kittens who grew up on the roof next door. They've grown now but still trying to sneak beneath the fence.They're wondering why they're not able to squeeze through. And the territorial white male cat who have tried to establish territory in my yard has taken to a staring competition with Angel complete and their own version of karaoke; he has now decided to take me on leading me into a anxiety-filled dream with sinister overtones. Woke up next morning stoned. Sat on a blue Ikea plastic stool, back against the sun-bleached wall, watching the sky with eyes closed, soaking up the sun, and the chirping of birds. Thank god for a balcony...ten minutes and then it's time to leave for work...
Thank you from the depths of my lullaby, for all those involved and everyone who visited and supported the catmaSutra inaugural exhibition in Hong Kong (Gallery by the Harbour)! Having been back for a few weeks already (you wonder how time files), and now gearing up to prepare for the 6th annual catmaSutra show in Singapore (December). Hopefully, I will be back in Hong Kong next year for a second show...also thinking of exhibiting in Japan... ;)
What does it feel like to be travelling through space, if space is not ‘empty’ but a semi-solid celluloid dream? Riding a bike is like this, it is beautiful. You concentrate on the road as you need to, yet somebody else is projecting images in your head. It flashes in front of you - a different skyline, a different sun, different shadows, different faces, different emotions - as you move through something more than empty space.
The dark is like space, never empty, but full of shadows, ghosts. You can touch the darkness, hold it in your hands. You can breathe it in and let it sink into you till it squeezes a tear or hardens into stone. It’ll touch you, blind you, drown you, and take you if you let it. And there is no darkness like space trapped within closed doors - doors that are closed but always open. And the dark is like that - you can open it like a door.
And I remember the ride back from the sea. The sun is setting. The highway takes me up, higher and higher. The sky - it’s vast, massive, limitless, all encompassing, and it’s concave. It makes my heart spin but I see the skyscrapers in front - they’re like concrete scraping the sky. I wonder if it bleeds. I bleed. I’ll stop bleeding.
Is true love the same as death?
I used to think that death is the absence of self. That death is nothing more than losing one’s self completely and eternally. That the feeling is passing but pervasive like the last heartbeat. One breath, one thought, one beat and the air stops. The mind stops. The heart stops. Nothing means anything anymore. Just this merging with the darkness, - this complete formlessness.
Is love like that?
How would you want to die?
If I were to die, I would do it watching the sky.
I love the sky. It’s different every time you look at it. It’s vast, massive, limitless, all encompassing, and it’s concave. It makes my heart spin; it makes me get up and dance, it changes but it always stays the same. From one corner of the earth to another, it’s the same sky. I need the sky. I need the sky to know that everything is still brand new and the same. I need the sky to carry me away. That’s my suicide wish.
;) yeah - that kind of mood...
Posted by catmaSutra at 11:13 PM