20.2.18

1965:

A letter from Sol LeWitt to Eva Hesse, who began suffering from creative block and self-doubt shortly after moving from New York to Germany with her husband. She reached out to her friend for counsel and consolation.



"Dear Eva, 

It will be almost a month since you wrote to me and you have possibly forgotten your state of mind (I doubt it though). You seem the same as always, and being you, hate every minute of it. Don’t! Learn to say “Fuck You” to the world once in a while. You have every right to. Just stop thinking, worrying, looking over your shoulder, wondering, doubting, fearing, hurting, hoping for some easy way out, struggling, grasping, confusing, itching, scratching, mumbling, bumbling, grumbling, humbling, stumbling, numbling, rambling, gambling, tumbling, scumbling, scrambling, hitching, hatching, bitching, moaning, groaning, honing, boning, horse-shitting, hair-splitting, nit-picking, piss-trickling, nose sticking, ass-gouging, eyeball-poking, finger-pointing, alleyway-sneaking, long waiting, small stepping, evil-eyeing, back-scratching, searching, perching, besmirching, grinding, grinding, grinding away at yourself. Stop it and just
DO 

From your description, and from what I know of your previous work and your ability; the work you are doing sounds very good “Drawing — clean — clear but crazy like machines, larger and bolder… real nonsense.” That sounds fine, wonderful — real nonsense. Do more. More nonsensical, more crazy, more machines, more breasts, penises, cunts, whatever — make them abound with nonsense. Try and tickle something inside you, your “weird humor.” You belong in the most secret part of you. Don’t worry about cool, make your own uncool. Make your own, your own world. If you fear, make it work for you — draw & paint your fear & anxiety. And stop worrying about big, deep things such as “to decide on a purpose and way of life, a consistent approach to even some impossible end or even an imagined end.” You must practice being stupid, dumb, unthinking, empty. Then you will be able to
DO 

I have much confidence in you and even though you are tormenting yourself, the work you do is very good. Try to do some BAD work — the worst you can think of and see what happens but mainly relax and let everything go to hell — you are not responsible for the world — you are only responsible for your work — so DO IT. And don’t think that your work has to conform to any preconceived form, idea or flavor. It can be anything you want it to be. But if life would be easier for you if you stopped working — then stop. Don’t punish yourself. However, I think that it is so deeply engrained in you that it would be easier to
DO 

It seems I do understand your attitude somewhat, anyway, because I go through a similar process every so often. I have an “Agonizing Reappraisal” of my work and change everything as much as possible — and hate everything I’ve done, and try to do something entirely different and better. Maybe that kind of process is necessary to me, pushing me on and on. The feeling that I can do better than that shit I just did. Maybe you need your agony to accomplish what you do. And maybe it goads you on to do better. But it is very painful I know. It would be better if you had the confidence just to do the stuff and not even think about it. Can’t you leave the “world” and “ART” alone and also quit fondling your ego. I know that you (or anyone) can only work so much and the rest of the time you are left with your thoughts. But when you work or before you work you have to empty your mind and concentrate on what you are doing. After you do something it is done and that’s that. After a while you can see some are better than others but also you can see what direction you are going. I’m sure you know all that. You also must know that you don’t have to justify your work — not even to yourself. Well, you know I admire your work greatly and can’t understand why you are so bothered by it. But you can see the next ones & I can’t. You also must believe in your ability. I think you do. So try the most outrageous things you can — shock yourself. You have at your power the ability to do anything. 

Much love to you both. 

Sol"

4.1.18

2017: A Memento

I think I have lost count of the number of times I've made a promise to myself to write again, to be close to how I feel, to have the ability and courage to express my thoughts even if it may be in the simplest of ways. I think I may even have forgotten what day it is today, apart from knowing that I am indeed in the midst of the first week of the new year.

This week has somewhat been precious to me. As 2017 inched to an end I grew anxious, anxious at the fact that I was unprepared for what is to come. I had no time to think about what it meant to start a new year again, all I held on to was the counting down of time that I had left with my loved ones, for when the new year came we would part and I'd be on my own. Sometimes I convince myself that each parting gets easier than the last, but it never never does. Still, I've learned that independence is innate for every human being, so long as you put your soul to it. Coming home to London on New Year's Eve granted me a sense of zen amidst my initial sadness, sort of a painful joy to know that I am okay, and I will be okay for the new year, in fact I will be doing great things. It is the feeling of being wide awake when the rest of the world is asleep, without movement, without sound.

Time here is a good eight hours apart from time back home, which I think I have grown to love. Each night I experience tranquil silences, very much equivalent to the wee hours of the night, interrupted only by the occasional rain falling onto my window pane, much like tonight. I get the sensation of daybreak each night right before I go to sleep, and that really is the most beautiful thing.

This week I've learned to be well, be clear and be conscious in everything that I may embark on. This shall be the year that I will be brave: in work, in relationships, in living and loving. Brave in remembering what I came here for.

All I am thankful for is always having a sense of home, even when I'm far away. In 2017 I learned that the heart is an amazing thing, amazing in its faith, in its yearning, and most importantly in its strength.

Thank you qi for reminding me to write again.
2018, may you be wonderful.




16.10.17

it must've been the wind


if I paused to ponder
upon a breath
a tear or perhaps
a recollection
I could begin to comprehend the scent of the sun
the comfort of its rays falling,
embracing my weary eyes

but this moment it comes and it goes
as brief as the glimpse I caught of
the exposed tip of the handkerchief in her coat,
fluttering in the breeze
yet it remains in me as instinctively
 as the waves would interweave

and just like that
my mind had been made up
it must've been

it must've been the wind

19.6.17

Strength again

Monday night somewhat unsettled, not quite a feeling I often feel on a day like this since almost two years ago
Mondays have taken a new form of respite for my weary soul; I'd never have thought they could take such significance of days

Today is significant because I have officially booked a one way ticket out, it really is amazing how I've come to this point without actually feeling it too much, crossing so many hurdles to come here as if it were so certain that this is what I really want
yet reality does scare me very much, a little too much more than I'd like
and I am so so afraid of leaving people behind
Still I hold on to the belief that it is the right decision, and I will see it for myself in the years to come.

It has been so long since coming back to this space, I guess I have said it one too many times.
But this time, now that really soon I will no longer be tied down to a full-time job, which has made me lose a large part of my sensitivity which troubles me, I've made a promise to myself to keep documenting here, be it a small speck of emotion or an incident that I'd like to have jotted down

The coming months shall be focused on restoring myself, my sensitivity, my ability to feel for the things I'd like to create once again.



2017 may you keep me strong, and may you be good.

6.5.16

Sentiment

Have not been in a good place in a long while, physically, emotionally,
nor am I saying that I am now
This could well be the worst place for me to be sitting, at this very same spot, consolidating my thoughts,
surrounded by the same four walls I see everyday, for the past eight months

The only saving grace is that today I am alone here
and that some things don't ever change, which heartens me to a great extent,
like the way I translate my thoughts into words
like the way I feel everytime I come back to reside
here

Still
it is so strange how my heart works
sometimes you feel the closest to a person in a place with him and a group of people who are strangers to you, but only to you
or could it be that it was experienced only for a brief moment and
was supplemented by the presence of the few who knows and cares
or could it be the aftermath of him alone
It could have simply been the latter but
the heart is a complex story on its own.

Thank you for helping me realise that we have always been giving to each other without having to show at all
Thank you for teaching me that not everything has to be explicitly verbalised, not everything needs an effort to pinpoint
so long as we know it in our hearts there is nothing to compare,
nothing to fear

Saturday mornings are for greater hopes and grander ideas.
May our souls be always anew despite our weary bodies.

20.4.16

if skin were pink

when images can not be enough
we shall turn to words

24.4.15



Well it's how I see you
When I see you from below
And I feel no other
Lights or sounds or things I know
Only your glow,
Only your glow. 

22.4.15

Some things
I wish you'd ask
I wish you knew

21.2.15

Paint

2015 has been such a difficult year for me, and though this cny has been one of the least enjoyable ones, I think it is only through this short break that I am slowly finding myself again.

And it has been so liberating because I no longer wake up in the morning with a heavy heart
And to be honest I never knew what ever went wrong in the first place, neither do I know how it became right again. 

But yet I know that it must have been these ones that cured my heart



For 2015 all I am is thankful to have my girls back. 

14.2.15

dust

Dust

Someone spoke to me last night,
told me the truth. Just a few words,
but I recognized it.
I knew I should make myself get up,
write it down, but it was late,
and I was exhausted from working
all day in the garden, moving rocks.
Now, I remember only the flavor —
not like food, sweet or sharp.
More like a fine powder, like dust.
And I wasn’t elated or frightened,
but simply rapt, aware.
That’s how it is sometimes —
God comes to your window,
all bright light and black wings,
and you’re just too tired to open it.

28.1.15


take my breath as your own
take my eyes to guide you home

12.12.14

Do not go gentle into that good night

An email I received in the middle of the week that made me stop all that I was busy with and take a great amount of time contemplating,



----


Gen,
Not sure if you watched Interstellar. The poem recited by the character Professor Brand played by Michael Caine is a good reminder of gong and also how we should be. Enjoy.



Do not go gentle into that good night
Dylan Thomas, 1914 - 1953

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.



SL


----


And the fact that it came from my uncle
Whom I never ever knew shared a really similar emotive complex as I do, until the day gong left, 4 months ago.
And perhaps sometimes people leave just so others can come together
And perhaps there is always a reason for everything
And without a doubt this is one of the most beautiful things I have read in a long while.

18.11.14

Won't you be my solid ground


some feelings always remain

1.10.14

Quiet nights

It's been a terribly long time since I bothered to look back upon this space, yet I found myself spending an hour reading through old entries today, the first day of October 2014, a day after my 22nd birthday. 
And just like all the times that I look back upon whatever remnants of the past memories that I'd record in this space, I think about all the moments that I've had that were so precious to me, yet now remain merely faint recollections just because I've failed to write them down. 

And coincidentally on this very same evening, just as I was sorting out photographs from my travels, I took a quick break and headed to the living room for a drink and from the corner of my eye I spotted something in the stack of mail that was addressed to me. I picked it up and for a good five minutes I did nothing but stare at the sealed envelope, marvel at the casual writing of my name and address, yet despite the seeming casuality and lightness of the pen tip, the handwriting felt like it had so much heart. 

I spent yet another five minutes trying to guess who this may have been from
perhaps it is because I didn't quite want to open it, afraid that my anticipation and rashness may ruin the simple act of receiving something completely by surprise. 



Dear Eunice:

Perhaps you already knew deep down in you that I love everything handwritten and anything that came in the mail.
Words cannot begin to describe how I felt when I found out that this was from you. I would say thank you -
but 'thank you' doesn't quite cut it for me - you have been almost like a guardian angel.

Sometimes in life we become so weary, of things that happen, of people. Yet every encounter I have with you,
be it in person, through the books you give me or through your letters: they have always planted a renewed hope
in my soul for people I first meet as strangers, for people that seemingly come and go.

Perhaps we all should learn to open our eyes, to embrace, for otherwise we'd never know the ones who would
inspire us, the ones we could grow with, the soulful ones who would speak our hearts.
I am so grateful that you have been one of them to me.

Thank you for the sparrow, thank you for telling me that I belong to the skies.

With love
Genevieve





----

And now five years down the road, this memory shall come back to me.



27.1.14

In your eyes I see




Experimented with my first roll of film in my very own medium format camera which I thrifted from a lovely old man in London. So incredibly taken aback with the results, and what more can I say, but that film is life changing :')

26.1.14

Seventeenth Avenue




Just a couple of stills from my film shoot today / time well spent and Jade is gorgeous as always.
As much as I love school in Canada, it feels so right to be home

8.1.14

The end of another adventure

But the start of something new


8 January 2014

It's been a long while since I updated this space with sufficient words; partly because I've never made good use of the pockets of time that I may have every once in awhile, partly because I've gotten so caught up with living that I forget to stop and reflect
Now that it is about 5.30pm and I am sitting at Hamburg Airport having just sent Kane off on his flight back to Sweden, the urge to articulate some of my thoughts has somewhat crept back up on me.
The airport - any airport for the matter, would probably be a place I hate most, and no matter how short I know we would be apart, the separation at the airport is never less unbearable to me. I really do wonder why
Still, there are no words that could describe my 22day long Eastern Europe trip with you - it has been nothing but wonderful. Thank you for handling every single thing, thank you for taking care of me come what may - you are the only person that I can travel with worry free because you carry the entire weight of the burden for me.
It gets a little hard after being so used to your presence 24/7 of everyday but I will see you once again in Amsterdam for the last part of our exchange before we head back to Singapore together.
It has been such a great 6 months, for now,
London & Charis here I come :)

Last Day / Goodbye Hamburg


1.1.14

In an old fashioned elevator in Prague




Don't see what anyone can see in anyone else but you



28.12.13