the text and images below are posted from beijing, berlin, buenos aires, hong kong, los angeles, new york, sado island, shanghai, tokyo and zürich. there are a few of us, and this is the space in between.
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in praise of shadows

athens

berlin

Posted by toby | reply »


the translator (for a song of one notion)

translator

In terms of the linguistic aspects, i think it has to do with my hesitations about the propagation of ideas and beliefs in the first place… how we live and die and shun and fraternise and conspire and love and love and loselove by these things, all framed for and to one another by these very fragile things such are words. Please excuse my feeling a bit pessimistic tonight, but it all feels very silly and futile when looked at from this context, as most of the time we’re simply misunderstanding one another in language, not so much that you or i or we or other are necessarily so different.

But through this comes the power of the translator as an in-between, a conductor, a metaphorical parlay and/or very possibly subversive player. We cannot ignore the importance of this in the thinking about why we should translate texts, but also maybe why we shouldn’t. There is no one-to-one here, no 辅导, not even you and me. That parlay is neither yours nor mine, yet what stakes should we play to come to something new, to something better?

As he speaks, his gesturing hand inadvertently slaps a loaf of bread.

I laugh in my own thoughts;

he won’t stop talking to me about the better.

I leave, feeling upset.

He likes discussion. I keep thinking of productivity. Yeah, yeah, yeah… boil it all down to 语言, to 文化区别. So where is the translator? Can we add to meaning? Can we destroy it? What was that term of vital nourishment, about boiling the thing down until only its essence is left? Oh right, so sorry. I’m neither the chef nor the translator. But let’s put that in motion, a blurry train ride, a thought of chasing down your unmade sculpture. What is hidden laid bare behind our backs. Like the difference between a solitary fish leading the others, a single fish swimming in front of a shoal.

Posted by 丫 | more »


the unfolding or the folding, always halfway

frame021

“to say nothing, to say everything, to say the thing itself and to sink the word into its pure presence as a thing, it is all the same, the same fury. it is always to forget the caress of the sign, the light touch of meanings always distorted, never fulfilled. neither the explicit nor the implicit ever attest to anything, other than the unfolding or the folding, always halfway. not to say everything but to let something be said of everything.” (jean-luc nancy)

(one frame captured from the pile of rotting (porn) film reels, a work-in-progress with toby, more info here soon..)

Posted by f | reply »


“don’t fire, but don’t negotiate”

boatintheair2

readers’ ideas, on how to catch a pirate.. quite timely.. and what do you think we should do, dear reader? they are still displaying our old content, in a slowly deteriorating form.. sigh..

Posted by f | reply »


la commune, the mexican train

The kind of guttural yelp that cannot find the words, at twilight, a half twisted smile of utter beauty and ghostly pain. I wish I could describe it to you better. Don’t read the about page; read what brought you here in the first place; read what makes you stay or go away; read and write and read and write and read and right. “Finding a balance between reflection and action”, these words don’t make much sense here, but it somehow lies that these words are precursors to something else, perhaps a coming together or a realisation that we are not at all. He says that ‘.networks’ are preferable to ‘.organisations’, and I suppose it goes along with one’s thinking about maneuverability, the possibilities for participation, connectivity. And ideals? I tear up.

So one acts alone, feverishly, perhaps to meet much dismay from the others. They come and they go. A guttural yelp. Let us restore that expression, something precursory to sensibility, an affect but all alone and thinking of you — fuck, it’s selfish. A conversation or just fantastic screaming. The ridiculous. He asks, “能说 ‘rational’ 来代表人吗?” Yes, perhaps.

So what could we do, too much expressionistically, moreso rationally? If I am not allowed to use the word “we” anymore, dare i say another?

Let me restore meaning to participation. Or I would like to. I would like to consider the empty spaces of respect, the distances necessary in love, in friendship and even intimacy. I would like to love you again. I would like to restore meaning to collectivity, to citizenship, to being all alone in the world. I would like to rethink my ways of relating to another, to rethink work and life and work in life. To make time to rethink, period.

The fool says too much again. Anarchically, anachronistically. Words that topple on top of words of words of words. iwishicoulddescribeittoyoubetter is now a network. Ha. Whatever that means…

Posted by 丫 | more »