Sunday, 31
The most important advice I could give to anybody is take care of yourself, number one. And live a life as full as you can so that you can do the work you want to do. I know myself included when I was young, I felt that I was robbed from a lot of experience because I spent so much time working. In a way, being an artist is like Jonah – you’re just dogged and dogged and dogged with having to do this task instead of being able to proceed with life. You go to a party and something that happens in the party moves you to start thinking of a song, or you meet someone who gives you a character in a story you want to write, and instead of engaging in this social party you’re losing yourself. You’re creating in your head, or weaving in your head. It’s a precious burden, but it’s a burden.
(...)
Some of the walls are cellular, and some of the walls are just the way our culture is evolving. You know if you walk onstage with intent to improvise or to communicate in the highest way possible with some people, and everyone is on a cell phone filming you, you’re not having a sort of a telepathic moment with these people. You’re having a moment with technology and basically you’re being duplicated. And I know this might seem abstract but what I’m saying is that our natural order is being destroyed, our natural way of communicating with each other is being altered. And perhaps it’s the way of the future, but I’m not part of the future. I’m a 20th century person luckily living in the 21st century and hopefully for a long time. You know, the more that we do this we’re going to be communicating via technology and maybe in some very exciting ways. I don’t know because I don’t have that kind of imagination to imagine where we’re going with all of this, and I don’t even like to criticize it but I worry about our whole world being altered.
Patti Smith on writing poetry, Dazed, Arts+Culture, Spring 2014
Saturday, 30
people try to share their children, especially when they are small. i understand it is a difficult period when they cannot do anything themselves. they eat you up. on the other hand toddlers are very cute and i love them. but still, i didn't made their children. what means as much as i have my own life to organise and i have the right to say: sorry, today i don't have time for your child.
Friday, 29
there are those advertisements, or lets say announcements for adults: do not cross the street on red light when children are around. of course children have to consider the red light, but in my opinion they shouldn't blindly follow the robots but check out if the streets were free.
Tuesday, 26
sometimes the world is too much for me, the sad things, the bad things.
they make me down and about to finish.
no way to stop for a second of rest.
Monday, 25
reading - The Tragedy of Desire, Chinyere Echefu (2010)
"this cage called marriage" ... or how your believe in God will help you.
A novel on the difficulites of life and Christian religion as salvation.
Saturday, 23
Surprise. Watching Barca - Deportivo I see Lionel Messi's tattoo for the first time. Hey, Messi, is tattooed, i remark wondering if he has been tattooed all along. Then, consulting google, I realise it is a novelty that came a bit late to me.
Fc Barcelona Campeón de la Liga y adiós, Xavi Hernández.
Friday, 22
Art business is more or less adminstered like football business. In fact, the players as well as the artists determine the flow of the game. Arthistorians judge its quality like referrees blow the whistle on behalf of fairness. Curators appriciate their favourites and foster newcomers like coaches do. Football management governs the economical configurations and galleries bring artists' works into business. Sponsors search to give support and at the same time want their logo to be prominent for their own profit.
Tuesday, 19
Afro Pfingsten Festival - every year Africa in Winterthur, Switzerland. One might expect that I went there annually. By no means, literally, it appeared to be much too expensive or it was I had to work. I went there once in 2003 to see Bongo Muffin.
Monday, 18
whatever, still, - my interests are to be respected, at least by myself. you see that is an idea not to run down depressions. however, my meditation - am strong, i know what i do and who is me, and, there is no danger coming from other people in most of the cases. i think human being is a societal creature and not generally interested to harm others. yet, media like popular newspapers and television news make us assume that there are only (d)evils in the world. kinda tempering. news' headlines and even their makings let us fear society and it's impact on the people to control daily life.
Sunday, 17
A wonderful, sunny afternoon on the balcony with Rain, Bride, Booker and Adam, enjoying the illuminating writing of Tony Morrison, God Help the Child.
I risk nothing. I sit on a throne and identify signs of imperfection in others. I've been charmed by my own intelligence and the moral postions I've taken, along with the insolence that accompanies them. But where is the brilliant research, the enlightening books, the masterpieces I used to dream of producing? Nowhere. instead I write notes about the shortcomings of others. Easy. So easy.
-------------------------------------------------
Comments about my person and my looks do I know from friends and relatives, leave aside that from my pals at work. Could be about fake fur at my cardigan, or my braids, anything - comments that are wry in elocution. Most of the time they show quite plainly what I was not aware of - a curiosity that needs enunciation. Then, I stay speechless out of embarrassment.
Saturday, 16
I'd like to dive into the dark, have time to think things through,
free from communicating with those I don't have any concern.
My need to keep silent.
Time is in progress, but nothing happens. I poise,
while everything else flashes by. No commitment.
No repercussions. People are wrapped in a biological sleeve
access to which seems denied.
Idle running, lost emotion.
Thursday, 14
Jokefilled, sarcastic rather than affectionate or tender, sometimes flirting; that is how to describe our conversations. Going into thoughts and following an idea - seldom. Not taking the risk of heavy arguments is a question of mainting proper vibes.
Tuesday, 12
cleaning house and after, my hands are burning. i feel desperately for putting on some hand lotion. but can't do it; have to work on my computer - not possible with sticky fingers...
Saturday, 9
it all started in a mess six days ago: had set the alarm clock for an hour too late what had left a 15 minutes to rush for the train station. no coffee, no shower, just a fuss. for a moment desperation and a doubt that i make it almost became rampant.
then, here, in the labyrinth of water, with a rapid pace trying to find our way, and losing it again - dead end or running around in circuits. where is the map? every plan oozing mud up to hollowness. no, the show is proper. yeah, it made me feel high.
marx readings, the capital, i should know; artists' names buzzing my head, i should recognise their works... three filters made me being stoked. apart from a pressure to perform unsusceptible, but knowingly, i experienced my freedom of perception and the notion of subjective understanding. at the exit of central pavillon the message - Hello. today you have a day off; a young woman handing an astray over.
Yes, today i go Lido.
Tuesday, 5
Arrrived in Venice Orto. Nice place, nice house, everything ok. Weather fine, almost hot. Biennale venues are not that present like I thought. So many tourists swallow the city. They even feel like they are for their own among the crowd.
Never forget this is a diary - a personal, subjective view. My view. I don't pretent objectivity. Some notes may appear as a conclusion. Everybody is free to agree or to object, whatever. Talking without accusing by using mean words - discussing.
Friday, 1
Annoying: For good preparation my friend, with who am going to travel Venice, told me about Monopol an art journal that contains an extra issue about Biennale. With good intent i ordered an E version for download. On the cover at the top corner right wihte on red that 64 pages Biennale special edition was explicitely announced, so i supposed it to be part of my order. But by no means, nothing of the like to find... a very bad mistake.
The most important advice I could give to anybody is take care of yourself, number one. And live a life as full as you can so that you can do the work you want to do. I know myself included when I was young, I felt that I was robbed from a lot of experience because I spent so much time working. In a way, being an artist is like Jonah – you’re just dogged and dogged and dogged with having to do this task instead of being able to proceed with life. You go to a party and something that happens in the party moves you to start thinking of a song, or you meet someone who gives you a character in a story you want to write, and instead of engaging in this social party you’re losing yourself. You’re creating in your head, or weaving in your head. It’s a precious burden, but it’s a burden.
(...)
Some of the walls are cellular, and some of the walls are just the way our culture is evolving. You know if you walk onstage with intent to improvise or to communicate in the highest way possible with some people, and everyone is on a cell phone filming you, you’re not having a sort of a telepathic moment with these people. You’re having a moment with technology and basically you’re being duplicated. And I know this might seem abstract but what I’m saying is that our natural order is being destroyed, our natural way of communicating with each other is being altered. And perhaps it’s the way of the future, but I’m not part of the future. I’m a 20th century person luckily living in the 21st century and hopefully for a long time. You know, the more that we do this we’re going to be communicating via technology and maybe in some very exciting ways. I don’t know because I don’t have that kind of imagination to imagine where we’re going with all of this, and I don’t even like to criticize it but I worry about our whole world being altered.
Patti Smith on writing poetry, Dazed, Arts+Culture, Spring 2014
Saturday, 30
people try to share their children, especially when they are small. i understand it is a difficult period when they cannot do anything themselves. they eat you up. on the other hand toddlers are very cute and i love them. but still, i didn't made their children. what means as much as i have my own life to organise and i have the right to say: sorry, today i don't have time for your child.
Friday, 29
there are those advertisements, or lets say announcements for adults: do not cross the street on red light when children are around. of course children have to consider the red light, but in my opinion they shouldn't blindly follow the robots but check out if the streets were free.
Tuesday, 26
sometimes the world is too much for me, the sad things, the bad things.
they make me down and about to finish.
no way to stop for a second of rest.
Monday, 25
reading - The Tragedy of Desire, Chinyere Echefu (2010)
"this cage called marriage" ... or how your believe in God will help you.
A novel on the difficulites of life and Christian religion as salvation.
Saturday, 23
Surprise. Watching Barca - Deportivo I see Lionel Messi's tattoo for the first time. Hey, Messi, is tattooed, i remark wondering if he has been tattooed all along. Then, consulting google, I realise it is a novelty that came a bit late to me.
Fc Barcelona Campeón de la Liga y adiós, Xavi Hernández.
Friday, 22
Art business is more or less adminstered like football business. In fact, the players as well as the artists determine the flow of the game. Arthistorians judge its quality like referrees blow the whistle on behalf of fairness. Curators appriciate their favourites and foster newcomers like coaches do. Football management governs the economical configurations and galleries bring artists' works into business. Sponsors search to give support and at the same time want their logo to be prominent for their own profit.
Tuesday, 19
Afro Pfingsten Festival - every year Africa in Winterthur, Switzerland. One might expect that I went there annually. By no means, literally, it appeared to be much too expensive or it was I had to work. I went there once in 2003 to see Bongo Muffin.
Monday, 18
whatever, still, - my interests are to be respected, at least by myself. you see that is an idea not to run down depressions. however, my meditation - am strong, i know what i do and who is me, and, there is no danger coming from other people in most of the cases. i think human being is a societal creature and not generally interested to harm others. yet, media like popular newspapers and television news make us assume that there are only (d)evils in the world. kinda tempering. news' headlines and even their makings let us fear society and it's impact on the people to control daily life.
Sunday, 17
A wonderful, sunny afternoon on the balcony with Rain, Bride, Booker and Adam, enjoying the illuminating writing of Tony Morrison, God Help the Child.
I risk nothing. I sit on a throne and identify signs of imperfection in others. I've been charmed by my own intelligence and the moral postions I've taken, along with the insolence that accompanies them. But where is the brilliant research, the enlightening books, the masterpieces I used to dream of producing? Nowhere. instead I write notes about the shortcomings of others. Easy. So easy.
-------------------------------------------------
Comments about my person and my looks do I know from friends and relatives, leave aside that from my pals at work. Could be about fake fur at my cardigan, or my braids, anything - comments that are wry in elocution. Most of the time they show quite plainly what I was not aware of - a curiosity that needs enunciation. Then, I stay speechless out of embarrassment.
Saturday, 16
I'd like to dive into the dark, have time to think things through,
free from communicating with those I don't have any concern.
My need to keep silent.
Time is in progress, but nothing happens. I poise,
while everything else flashes by. No commitment.
No repercussions. People are wrapped in a biological sleeve
access to which seems denied.
Idle running, lost emotion.
Thursday, 14
Jokefilled, sarcastic rather than affectionate or tender, sometimes flirting; that is how to describe our conversations. Going into thoughts and following an idea - seldom. Not taking the risk of heavy arguments is a question of mainting proper vibes.
Tuesday, 12
cleaning house and after, my hands are burning. i feel desperately for putting on some hand lotion. but can't do it; have to work on my computer - not possible with sticky fingers...
Saturday, 9
it all started in a mess six days ago: had set the alarm clock for an hour too late what had left a 15 minutes to rush for the train station. no coffee, no shower, just a fuss. for a moment desperation and a doubt that i make it almost became rampant.
then, here, in the labyrinth of water, with a rapid pace trying to find our way, and losing it again - dead end or running around in circuits. where is the map? every plan oozing mud up to hollowness. no, the show is proper. yeah, it made me feel high.
marx readings, the capital, i should know; artists' names buzzing my head, i should recognise their works... three filters made me being stoked. apart from a pressure to perform unsusceptible, but knowingly, i experienced my freedom of perception and the notion of subjective understanding. at the exit of central pavillon the message - Hello. today you have a day off; a young woman handing an astray over.
Yes, today i go Lido.
Tuesday, 5
Arrrived in Venice Orto. Nice place, nice house, everything ok. Weather fine, almost hot. Biennale venues are not that present like I thought. So many tourists swallow the city. They even feel like they are for their own among the crowd.
Never forget this is a diary - a personal, subjective view. My view. I don't pretent objectivity. Some notes may appear as a conclusion. Everybody is free to agree or to object, whatever. Talking without accusing by using mean words - discussing.
Friday, 1
Annoying: For good preparation my friend, with who am going to travel Venice, told me about Monopol an art journal that contains an extra issue about Biennale. With good intent i ordered an E version for download. On the cover at the top corner right wihte on red that 64 pages Biennale special edition was explicitely announced, so i supposed it to be part of my order. But by no means, nothing of the like to find... a very bad mistake.
Vincent J.F. Huang
Angola
