26/12/2012
i, too, i ................. !!!
~
added: 27/12/2012
if i am sad, often, i come to the state of desiring to be un-sad. out of it. over it. behind it. in front of it. no, totally out of it.
and when i actually attempt to reach it,
i doubt myself if i was even any sad before.
hmmm
ice-cream is sweeet
so why do i bother !
23/12/2012
19/12/2012
" Co le toi da co rat nhieu, rat nhieu nhung can bep nhu the. Trong tim minh, hoac trong thuc tai. Hoac o mot noi rat xa ma toi se toi. Can bep chi co mot minh toi, hay co rat nhieu nguoi nua, hay chi co hai nguoi. Chac chan, toi se co rat nhieu, o tat ca nhung noi ma toi song. "
(Kitchen - Banana Yoshimoto)
12/12/2012
11/12/2012
09/12/2012
08/12/2012
I was reading a Chiharo Shiota's book yesterday afternoon.
Something about her written emotions
really touched me
p.33
-
After the performance I always wash my body.
Dirt upon dirt is everywhere. I try to wash myself, but it does not become
better. Or I am already clean, but something stayed. [...] I have
the impression that my body is abandoning me. It is not an answer or a question
about death; only my body is in a condition to accept anything. Even death.
When I look at the blue sky or the ocean, I am overwhelmed by the same emotion.
It is similar to the emotion after finishing a performance. Something I cannot wash away… I still do not
know what it is.
Something about her written emotions
really touched me
p.33
-
p.65
-
[...]
-
[...]
Diaspora
– you know already what that means. Originally, in Greek, it meant “to disperse
seeds”. It was a designation for the expelled Jews, and later came to be used
for people who have a shared cultural heritage but have been forced to leave
their native country and are now living in different places without the
possibility of returning. These people
are scattered to the four winds, only certain that their bodies cannot be snatched
away from them.
p. 79
-
-
It seems
to me that there is no way back, no matter where I go.
I feel
there is something common between the silence of the burnt piano and the
silence on my way home, and that this is deeply hidden in my heart.
The
threads are interwoven into each other. Get entangled. Are torn apart. And
disentangle themselves. It is like a mirror of feeling.
p. 131
-
[...]
p. 131
-
[...]
Days
later, the wind carried the smell of the extinguished fire over to us. I then
felt, every time I smelled it, that the smoke made me lose my voice.
This
happened twenty years ago. I always carry this silence with me. Deep in my
heart. When I try to express it, I lack the necessary words. But the silence
lasts. The more I think about it, the stronger it gets. The piano loses its
voice, the painter does not paint any more, the musician stops making music.
They lose
their function, but not their beauty. They even become more beautiful.
My true
word has no sound.
02/12/2012
Actions like ritualistic shaking or repeating a specific sound in the form of a mantra or chant are known ways of approaching or achieving altered states, of releasing individuals into an ego-less, trance-like zone in which there is no sense of time and where sense of self is so diffused that it ceases to be self and becomes all.
(Extract from "Nothing"- edited by Graham Gussin & Ele Carpenter)
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