I had gotten a sac of cookies from Walgreen yesterday on the way back home from an unsuccessful sex
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
Safe Room
Volatile.
Park-in day.
Man Salad.
Woman Salad.
Bad Judgements.
Revit.
I remember when I was a kid, I learned about different traditional regional crafts and craftsmen in Japan. There was this one particular gourd carver who I saw on either TV or some book. He used a chisel that was attached to a long wooden stick. His right shoulder supported the chisel and carved into the gourd. After having done that for a life time, his right shoulder had gotten considerably larger than the left, and had developed a huge callus. He hid his shoulder with his kimono, but his body looked odd, and off balance.
He is an image of a hero to me. There is something very beautiful about his malformed body. A life time of work had morphed his body, and his shoulder conformed to fit around the chisel.
From time to time, at the Oakland 24 hour fitness, a retired Oakland Raider's football player comes to work out. He's not a professional football player anymore, but you can still see his training on his body: His massive shoulders and thighs.
Sometimes, some of our bodies are more fit to do certain things than others. Some people come with stronger nails, and can play classical guitar without a pic. Some people have longer torsoe and arms, which make them better fit for swimming.
I am fascinated with the idea of body as tool. I like meeting people, and finding these peculiarities in their bodies. It's not glamorous, but is very honest. I want to find old people who have been pursuing a particular craft/interest/proffession, etc. An old doctor, an old pottery maker, an old basket weaver, an old soccer player, an old ceo, an old...
Park-in day.
Man Salad.
Woman Salad.
Bad Judgements.
Revit.
I remember when I was a kid, I learned about different traditional regional crafts and craftsmen in Japan. There was this one particular gourd carver who I saw on either TV or some book. He used a chisel that was attached to a long wooden stick. His right shoulder supported the chisel and carved into the gourd. After having done that for a life time, his right shoulder had gotten considerably larger than the left, and had developed a huge callus. He hid his shoulder with his kimono, but his body looked odd, and off balance.
He is an image of a hero to me. There is something very beautiful about his malformed body. A life time of work had morphed his body, and his shoulder conformed to fit around the chisel.
From time to time, at the Oakland 24 hour fitness, a retired Oakland Raider's football player comes to work out. He's not a professional football player anymore, but you can still see his training on his body: His massive shoulders and thighs.
Sometimes, some of our bodies are more fit to do certain things than others. Some people come with stronger nails, and can play classical guitar without a pic. Some people have longer torsoe and arms, which make them better fit for swimming.
I am fascinated with the idea of body as tool. I like meeting people, and finding these peculiarities in their bodies. It's not glamorous, but is very honest. I want to find old people who have been pursuing a particular craft/interest/proffession, etc. An old doctor, an old pottery maker, an old basket weaver, an old soccer player, an old ceo, an old...
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Academia
Here's a piece of writing that I had just recently dug up. It's time to rewrite the past.
Super-Girl
In third grade in Japan, my teacher, Mr. Yamaguchi had an orthodox but widely accepted mode of education. He had a strong personality, and his devotion to students was irrefutable. When a student failed to turn in homework, he would take the student into the bathroom and hit his or her behind with a meter stick. Since I absentmindedly forgot my homework most frequently, I could say that I had spent the most time with him in the bathroom. It wasn’t that corporal punishment was particularly hurtful or even shameful, but the act affirmed my identity as a remedial student. A few months before these incidences I lived in Houston, Texas, and I had excelled in my schoolwork. So much so that the teachers wrote ‘Super-girl’ on my report cards. It is amazing how a change in the environment can flip a person’s identity from a super hero to a challenged student.
When my family moved again 4 years later from Japan to a suburb in Maryland, I experienced another transformation. Although I lived in America for the first 8 years of my life I had lost my English tongue. In classes such as math and art, where English is less important, I showed definite merit. I went on to take Advanced Placement classes in high school, and received the highest grade in art and 4’s in calculus and chemistry. Subsequently my college years were filled with passionate art making.
I grappled with socio-political and personal issues through my art. Along with my colleagues I petitioned my University to sustain and strengthen my area of study. We formed our own performance and installation art collective, Optic Tongue. Through Optic Tongue we applied for and received grants with which we organized and created public art. Our impetus for art making was to communicate to a wide range of people about difficult issues such as racism, and sexism. Most of my work involved installation art, which altered the environment and encouraged the viewers to interact.
In one such artwork called ‘the Gift Project’, as part of Optic Tongue, we made four thousand 3” x 3” packages and distributed them all over the campus. The packages contained a personal artifact, a website address to an open forum, and two lines of quotes. The quotes were obtained from personal accounts of prejudice, of someone either being the victim of aggression or the perpetrator. The quotes were altered to erase all specific details of time and place. The subject of the passage was replaced by “I” and “you” to make the passages more immediate to the reader. An example would be: “I was forced to watch my children be taken and gassed while you laughed hysterically,” and “I burned your house because I don’t like your kind.” The packages were meant to generate a more open discussion around difficult topics such as racial violence by personalizing painful interactions to an I/you, or enemy/victim relationship.
One of my most significant enemies was Mr. Yamaguchi. One day, I confessed to him that I hated school, and I hated him with emotional ferocity that left him speechless. He must have been surprised. Next quarter, he resigned from the full-time teaching position, and taught only one class, Chinese Calligraphy. The notoriously mean teacher was turned into a Zen monk who never scolded a single student thereafter. In my mind I was the cause for this, and my heart felt like a fist that could defeat all the evil-doers. That fist and belief in myself as inherently ‘good’ helped me through obstacles.
Super-Girl
In third grade in Japan, my teacher, Mr. Yamaguchi had an orthodox but widely accepted mode of education. He had a strong personality, and his devotion to students was irrefutable. When a student failed to turn in homework, he would take the student into the bathroom and hit his or her behind with a meter stick. Since I absentmindedly forgot my homework most frequently, I could say that I had spent the most time with him in the bathroom. It wasn’t that corporal punishment was particularly hurtful or even shameful, but the act affirmed my identity as a remedial student. A few months before these incidences I lived in Houston, Texas, and I had excelled in my schoolwork. So much so that the teachers wrote ‘Super-girl’ on my report cards. It is amazing how a change in the environment can flip a person’s identity from a super hero to a challenged student.
When my family moved again 4 years later from Japan to a suburb in Maryland, I experienced another transformation. Although I lived in America for the first 8 years of my life I had lost my English tongue. In classes such as math and art, where English is less important, I showed definite merit. I went on to take Advanced Placement classes in high school, and received the highest grade in art and 4’s in calculus and chemistry. Subsequently my college years were filled with passionate art making.
I grappled with socio-political and personal issues through my art. Along with my colleagues I petitioned my University to sustain and strengthen my area of study. We formed our own performance and installation art collective, Optic Tongue. Through Optic Tongue we applied for and received grants with which we organized and created public art. Our impetus for art making was to communicate to a wide range of people about difficult issues such as racism, and sexism. Most of my work involved installation art, which altered the environment and encouraged the viewers to interact.
In one such artwork called ‘the Gift Project’, as part of Optic Tongue, we made four thousand 3” x 3” packages and distributed them all over the campus. The packages contained a personal artifact, a website address to an open forum, and two lines of quotes. The quotes were obtained from personal accounts of prejudice, of someone either being the victim of aggression or the perpetrator. The quotes were altered to erase all specific details of time and place. The subject of the passage was replaced by “I” and “you” to make the passages more immediate to the reader. An example would be: “I was forced to watch my children be taken and gassed while you laughed hysterically,” and “I burned your house because I don’t like your kind.” The packages were meant to generate a more open discussion around difficult topics such as racial violence by personalizing painful interactions to an I/you, or enemy/victim relationship.
One of my most significant enemies was Mr. Yamaguchi. One day, I confessed to him that I hated school, and I hated him with emotional ferocity that left him speechless. He must have been surprised. Next quarter, he resigned from the full-time teaching position, and taught only one class, Chinese Calligraphy. The notoriously mean teacher was turned into a Zen monk who never scolded a single student thereafter. In my mind I was the cause for this, and my heart felt like a fist that could defeat all the evil-doers. That fist and belief in myself as inherently ‘good’ helped me through obstacles.
weak
Monday
Tuesday Hin got knocked in the head, and we got mugged.
Wednesday Sasha, the writer who writes about octopus with 8 dicks. He is my albino neighbor who walks around with a bull whip. There's more to say about him and his cute friend. And a sweet date.
Thurseday Gun shots. Hi Kelley, havn't seen you in ages.
Friday Party, inebriation, social tension, and possible racial tension. Getting kicked out of my friend's bar, jeopardizing her job, while my other friend's completely insulted. Liberating my motorcycle... that's in progress.
Saturday Bye bye Hin, thanks for the plan. Yay Architecture tour.
Sunday Call me head docent, bitches. A possible setup with a billionaire? Thanks to you, John and Robert. like as if that's really going to happen. Bloody fucking Sunday.
Monday A meeting at the studio, gotta love them. Another date that didn't happen. Another one. sheesh. Hin says, believe in destiny (but that's not my style). The crash of the financial giant. My drunken neighbor who kept banging on my window at two am in the morning so that I would let him into the building. I told him, do it again, and I'm calling the cops. My apartment manager, mr/s. weirdo transvestite, got really annoyed by the drunk dude, and started sweeping the hallway and my welcome mat at 3 am in the morning. This is a fucking nut house. The grocery lady noticed an uncanny resemblance between me and Sarah Palin.... and my neighbor called me a cop hore.
Tuesday An interview with new yorkas. Jobby search. Writing. Searching. Bored. Two pimples on my face from no where.
Wednesday More jobby search. Lets talk, Barbara Drucker, Efren Gutirez, Ed Kaplan aka job teasers. I hate teasers, I hunt them down.
Thurseday I just want to die~
Friday Laura Keyser. Hello! Application due. Phone interview with the unemployment people.
Saturday San Jose, Green tour.
Sunday Bloody fucking Sunday
Monday
Wow, my life is.... I guess what it is. Not really proud of it, you know what I mean? But at the same time, it's entertaining. In some ways, it's kind of fun that so many people that I know are unemployed... it's like summer break.
Tuesday Hin got knocked in the head, and we got mugged.
Wednesday Sasha, the writer who writes about octopus with 8 dicks. He is my albino neighbor who walks around with a bull whip. There's more to say about him and his cute friend. And a sweet date.
Thurseday Gun shots. Hi Kelley, havn't seen you in ages.
Friday Party, inebriation, social tension, and possible racial tension. Getting kicked out of my friend's bar, jeopardizing her job, while my other friend's completely insulted. Liberating my motorcycle... that's in progress.
Saturday Bye bye Hin, thanks for the plan. Yay Architecture tour.
Sunday Call me head docent, bitches. A possible setup with a billionaire? Thanks to you, John and Robert. like as if that's really going to happen. Bloody fucking Sunday.
Monday A meeting at the studio, gotta love them. Another date that didn't happen. Another one. sheesh. Hin says, believe in destiny (but that's not my style). The crash of the financial giant. My drunken neighbor who kept banging on my window at two am in the morning so that I would let him into the building. I told him, do it again, and I'm calling the cops. My apartment manager, mr/s. weirdo transvestite, got really annoyed by the drunk dude, and started sweeping the hallway and my welcome mat at 3 am in the morning. This is a fucking nut house. The grocery lady noticed an uncanny resemblance between me and Sarah Palin.... and my neighbor called me a cop hore.
Tuesday An interview with new yorkas. Jobby search. Writing. Searching. Bored. Two pimples on my face from no where.
Wednesday More jobby search. Lets talk, Barbara Drucker, Efren Gutirez, Ed Kaplan aka job teasers. I hate teasers, I hunt them down.
Thurseday I just want to die~
Friday Laura Keyser. Hello! Application due. Phone interview with the unemployment people.
Saturday San Jose, Green tour.
Sunday Bloody fucking Sunday
Monday
Wow, my life is.... I guess what it is. Not really proud of it, you know what I mean? But at the same time, it's entertaining. In some ways, it's kind of fun that so many people that I know are unemployed... it's like summer break.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Crazy Full Moon
Monday
Tuesday Hin got knocked in the head, and we got mugged.
Wednesday Sasha, the writer who writes about octopus with 8 dicks. He is my albino neighbor who walks around with a bull whip. There's more to say about him and his cute friend. And a sweet date.
Thurseday Gun shots. Hi Kelley, havn't seen you in ages.
Friday Party, inebriation, social tension, and possible racial tension. Getting kicked out of my friend's bar, jeopardizing her job, while my other friend's completely insulted. Liberating my motorcycle... that's in progress.
Saturday Bye bye Hin, thanks for the plan. Yay Architecture tour.
Sunday Call me head docent, bitches. A possible setup with a billionaire? Thanks to you, John and Robert. Where do you go on a date with a billionaire? The parking lot? Bloody fucking Sunday.
Monday A meeting at the studio, gotta love them. Another date that didn't happen. Another one. sheesh. Hin says, believe in destiny (but that's not my style). The crash of the financial giant. My drunken neighbor who kept banging on my window at two am in the morning so that I would let him into the building. I told him, do it again, and I'm calling the cops. My apartment manager, mr/s. weirdo transvestite, got really annoyed by the drunk dude, and started sweeping the hallway and my welcome mat at 3 am in the morning. This is a fucking nut house. The grocery lady noticed an uncanny resemblance between me and Sarah Palin.... and my neighbor called me a cop hore.
Tuesday An interview with new yorkas. Jobby search. Writing. Searching. Bored. Two pimples on my face from no where.
Wednesday More jobby search. Lets talk, Barbara Drucker, Efren Gutirez, Ed Kaplan aka job teasers. I hate teasers, I hunt them down.
Thurseday I just want to die~
Friday Laura Keyser. Hello! Application due. Phone interview with the unemployment people.
Saturday San Jose, Green tour.
Sunday Bloody fucking Sunday
Monday
Wow, my life is.... I guess what it is. Not really proud of it, you know what I mean? But at the same time, it's entertaining. In some ways, it's kind of fun that so many people that I know are unemployed... it's like summer break.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Self and self and self
It's me again. Thanks.
Some empowering comments of late.
I hanged out with Ruchama and her sister a couple of days ago. She was telling me how she had heard stories about me (eeeeeeeeek), and how cool she thinks I am. Wow. She said that she wanted to be like me. Double whammy. Misguided poor youth!
I remember a few years ago, I told Hin the exact same thing. I told him, when we were eating at the Asian Ghetto, that I wanted to be just like him. I had a big huge smile on my face, and was completely sincere when I said that. He's just so different from me, complete opposite. Really. I had grown up in America, in a middle class family in the suburbs. I had been loved by both of my parents. Hin is coming from a working class family in dense urban Hong Kong. He was really inspiring. He left America just yesterday. In parting he said that I had changed something in him. Cool. I hope it was his hygenic habits. :p
Sharl definately changed somethings for me. We were talking about what it's like to be single, and this 'dating' thing. Yuck. I'm sort of inhibited, I suppose. I'm curious, and I want to enjoy life. I want to make more friends and be less of a loner all the time. Sharl said, 'Do what you want. It's your life.' .........
so unemployment... unemployment...
Here's a link to my artworkworkworkwork http://reikomatsuo.blogspot.com/ (I'm working on the cows now... bit by bit, they're becoming abstract. Headless cows, three legged cows, scratched obscured cows, and the likes.)
Some empowering comments of late.
I hanged out with Ruchama and her sister a couple of days ago. She was telling me how she had heard stories about me (eeeeeeeeek), and how cool she thinks I am. Wow. She said that she wanted to be like me. Double whammy. Misguided poor youth!
I remember a few years ago, I told Hin the exact same thing. I told him, when we were eating at the Asian Ghetto, that I wanted to be just like him. I had a big huge smile on my face, and was completely sincere when I said that. He's just so different from me, complete opposite. Really. I had grown up in America, in a middle class family in the suburbs. I had been loved by both of my parents. Hin is coming from a working class family in dense urban Hong Kong. He was really inspiring. He left America just yesterday. In parting he said that I had changed something in him. Cool. I hope it was his hygenic habits. :p
Sharl definately changed somethings for me. We were talking about what it's like to be single, and this 'dating' thing. Yuck. I'm sort of inhibited, I suppose. I'm curious, and I want to enjoy life. I want to make more friends and be less of a loner all the time. Sharl said, 'Do what you want. It's your life.' .........
so unemployment... unemployment...
Here's a link to my artworkworkworkwork http://reikomatsuo.blogspot.com/ (I'm working on the cows now... bit by bit, they're becoming abstract. Headless cows, three legged cows, scratched obscured cows, and the likes.)
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
A Great Conversation with an Architect
I had a great conversation with an architect today.
I really like talking to all architects... They are always so informative... Our profession is regarded as a sort of long journey. There's this kind of mentorship that happens, and I'm really appreciative of that.
I feel bad, I feel like I need to be more appreciative of the efforts that my boss would give me.
Everyday I looked forward to going to work. I get burnt out quickly, things are sort of overwhelming, and I don't really understand what my boss wants a lot of time, but generally, everyday, I feel like I learned something new.
I've stopped trying to merge architecture and art. It's a lot easier when I think of them separately. I just wish in a lot of ways that I was younger, 10 years younger. Not that I regret my twenties at all, but I do wish I had found a more focused venue for my passion.
I feel like my life is so chaotic right now... I don't know where to go, who to see how to stand on my feet. This guy that I talked to today, the architect, knew exactly where I was in my life without me having to say anything.
I really like talking to all architects... They are always so informative... Our profession is regarded as a sort of long journey. There's this kind of mentorship that happens, and I'm really appreciative of that.
I feel bad, I feel like I need to be more appreciative of the efforts that my boss would give me.
Everyday I looked forward to going to work. I get burnt out quickly, things are sort of overwhelming, and I don't really understand what my boss wants a lot of time, but generally, everyday, I feel like I learned something new.
I've stopped trying to merge architecture and art. It's a lot easier when I think of them separately. I just wish in a lot of ways that I was younger, 10 years younger. Not that I regret my twenties at all, but I do wish I had found a more focused venue for my passion.
I feel like my life is so chaotic right now... I don't know where to go, who to see how to stand on my feet. This guy that I talked to today, the architect, knew exactly where I was in my life without me having to say anything.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
