Friday, September 28, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
如今,we are just ordinary people,
you are just ordinary people.
How boring is that?
I really miss you,
when seeing those people who are similar in the feeling,
I miss you in an extra-ordinarily way.
This kind of thinking contains not just something that belongs to you,
but a lot of things that happened around you.
The reason why I miss you is pretty simple,
because you would never return.
I could run crazily for a couple of days,
we are just ordinary people.
How boring is that?
When you were around,
it seemed like I was afraid of nothing.
Every morning I woke up and saw those green new-born grass,
I could happily cut them for a while.
cutting the grass makes me think about what Mother said,
"Remember, it will get bad luck."
I really miss you.
I miss all of the things surrounded you,
But that were like in the days of more than two or three years,
I have left and I really left,
but I saw that familiar and that really familiar,
How have you been?
Good, I answered.
Really? I aksed.
Yeah, just getting tired easily. I answered.
Um, be happy oh.
Big ass aunty said,
"Be happy, and love well."
I said, ok.
What about you?
Friday, September 21, 2007
This is just too good to be true.
I am in my own space,( shares the space with an American guy whom last name means trees and peninsula.)I got into the Advanced Painting Studio class. About twenty two people sharing a huge studio. The studio divides into twenty something spaces. We meet three times a week, three different professors come to your space and talk to you about your works. Isn't that nice?
About my creatures. They are humans, flower kind insects, giant masks, animals, me, and all the living things. They start to grow, bigger and bigger, the creatures of my fantasies of my own island.
They are swamped in the humid air, they are moving slowly but aggressive. Poisoned, active, they look clumsy, colorful, cute, strange, but dangerous.
Why? For the first time I really think there is no why anymore. They are all my babies, my creatures. Ugly beautiful.
Otto Dix, James Ensor, James Jean, Marline Dumas, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec.
They asked who do I look at? Artists?
I gave them these names.
I haven't looked at their works until someone told me him told me her told me that, because, my works remind them of the arts from those artists.
Where do all my creatures come from?
They are from my dreams, from the real world and the world from the little box in the living room.
I am a mixed up person.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
我居然在美國扎扎實實的聽見FedEx的人員告知我的物品"It is lost."
human being, 得睡了。
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