Friday, January 01, 2010

New Year Greetings



Bonne annee 2010,
ouverte sur le monde,
chaleureuse et fraternelle.
Ouvrons nos fenetres
pour regarder et apprecier
la richesse et la diversite
de ceux que nous rencontrons.
Rejouissons nous
de cette lumiere
qui vient a nous.

:: note :: ... greeting from Cised Paris an international student service for University Paris 8 ...

Monday, December 28, 2009

Dog



Wegman

:: note :: ... walking by the river encountered a jogger with dog ... the innocent eyes & curious gaze captivated me ... " Wish I were a dog", I exclaimed ... partner responded "You are - You are!" ... finally found myself ...

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Friends

He turned to jade and left the world.
He danced death outside to no secret.

He closed his blind eyes tightly shut
and invited some close friends over.

The friends lost their way somewhere.
They reappeared inside the deep dark.

Since his soul snapped and sunk,
they held a magnifying glass inches away.



:: note :: ... a pillaged poem ... Strangers by Annie Finch ...

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

return

On a hot summer day, a country in mourning, we each went our way to the very end.

Awaiting her return, the day after winter solstice, anticipating footprints in the snow I close my eyes to perceive the airport kiss which like vapour disappears forever illusive.

Have just replaced the calendar, surprised that 1998 matches 2010, acknowledge the ignorance of time, comforted by the ignorance, a better part of beauty, in the briefest of times charms the magic of the moment.

Are we sharp-witted fools sacrificing cold blooded existence to a studied cultural fanaticism, artists out of desperation barricading ourselves from catastrophe, self-disciplined martyrs ruthlessly pursuing danger, exploiting the chance, the last compassionate chance towards a fatal & ambitious ideal nonsense.

The mirror reflects the look of a wild man. Switch on the coloured festive lights as a beacon. How will she look? You don't have to be with a person in order to feel bound to them as to no other. Cross the threshold wondering whether cross-border narratives overwhelm absurd laughter to denounce, scandalize and shake the chains of passionate ambivalence with unassuaged anger dissolving into muckraking cathartic attacks. Our desires are only realized when we are totally concentrated. Wait, the intense devilish curiosity to the point of life ability exhaustion. You awoke ridiculously early & sleep pulls at the eyelids of despair unable to look through them to give thoughts free rein.

Into the cold dark night, later than expected, rejoicing the wonder of our love till the very end.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Skit Skit

The Urban Dictionary defines skit skit: "to cum or to want to be cummed on by either sex" and yet SKIT SKIT is a Saskatoon, Saskatchewan-based sketch comedy troupe composed (this time round) of Ashton Francis, Kristen Holfeuer, Matthew Keyes, Ed Mendez and Tara Schoonbaert.

This wonderfully skilled group last performed @ The Refinery December 17, 18 & 19th. Cam Fuller of The StarPhoenix wrote they are "a big hit with the audience" & their Facebook page affirms this. No small feat in a genre that puts a high premium on novelty.

A mix of video clips around Heritage Minutes & Sexy Singles flows seamlessly into live SNL type sketches boldly & exuberantly performed at a carefully crafted pace. The writing is paradoxically broad & concise at its best when they follow the comedy edge of making serious stuff humorous. Where the troupe shines most are their provocations at the arts. Matthew Keyes does a priceless Nichelback parody, Tara Schoonbaert's opening "Welcome" sketch playfully pricks the pompous, pretentiousness of the "rich" modern theatre and the whole ensemble closes the evening with a delightful rendition of So Long, Farewell, Aufweidersehen, Goodbye from The Sound of Music.

Here lies the rub. Anne Bogart writes in and then you act:
"The classic recipe for effective theater is threefold: 1) you need something to say; 2) you need technique; and 3) you need passion."
Skit Skit are passionate & accomplished actor/writer/directors. I invite them to reflect more on what their material may have to say for therein comes greatness - continue to make us laugh & maybe cry but don't forget we need to learn with work that will disarm with laughter and with wit impregnate. Skit Skit.



:: note :: ... did miss the presence of a couple of their founding members ... & from my favourite radio comedy (no longer) show Dead Dog Cafe: stay calm, be brave wait for the signs and leave the good news alone ...

Wednesday, December 02, 2009

Textwork

With warning
as lightning heralds thunder
love rumbles my heart.


Textwork is a practice, not a product.

It is praxis, part and parcel of the critique of the everyday creative life act.
It invites something out of nothing. A source.

TextwUrk is not a metaphor, not metaphorical. It is creative work. A passion.

It exists precisely in the obdurate interstice between body and voice.
It exists in the arrow - the connection. It is memory. It is invisible to illuminate.

It is not a set of procedures or perceptions. It is the crisis noise in the system.
It is not the encapsulation or object of the crisis noise or the system.

It is continuous; it is parasitic; it is thetic. It seeks obstacle.

It is of no interest except as cultural residue: it is of great interest to the actor's studies.

It is nothing more than the continuous reification, territorialization and rendering of the
actor's work/etude - as if the etude were always already cleansed, available for the taking -
as if the etude were already transformed into living action.

Textwrk is demonstrative, a demonstrative fragment, an experiment, partial-inscription,
partial-object, the automatic prior to its presentation, the linguistic kernel of the pre-linguistic.
TexTwork is the thetic, the gestural of the demonstrative.

It is the gesture that never quite takes. It is the noise inherent in the gestural.

To TextWork is not to produce text; it is to create a study on the pre-level of living action;
the irreversible spew of cellular automata is TextwOrk, all the better if the rules of vibration,
support, range, position, character, voice and repetition are noisy.

The cultural production of tEXtwork abjures intensifications, strange attractors & descriptions
such as this. The hunt and reception of impulse & association is TextworK. Creators on the edge
are circumscribed by textwork. Malfunctioned psychoanalytics & scatologies are dissolute,
partial, always already incomplete: the differend is Textwork.

Be wary of the violence of the legible text. Beware the metaphor which institutionalizes,
the text which defines, the text of positivities, not negations, the circumscribing text,
the inscribing text; beware of the producers and institutions of these texts, whose stake
is in hardening of definitions, control, capital, slaughter: Texts slaughter.

Textwork slaughters texts.

:: note ::. ... used What is Codework? as template for this statement towards What is Textwork ... apologies to Alan Sondheim |sondheim {AT} panix.com| (Tue, 16 May 2006 08:46:55 -0400 (EDT)) ...

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Within the Penumbra


Within the Penumbra By F. D. Schultz

Most of what you see tonight is in the shadow, in silhouette, in twilight, dawn ... within the Penumbra. Most of life happens as T.S. Eliot writes in "The Hollow Men":
"Between the conception / And the creation
Between the emotion / And the response
Falls the Shadow / Life is very long"

We yearn for freedom. The freedom to seek the truth though truth is never what it seems. Conceived in a world of order, rules and laws we choose between friendship & betrayal, between security and adventure, between the authorities of love & wrath into hope & despair ... within the Pneumbra.

Follow the cast & playwright caught in the eternal mysterious spirit world in the time of Pandora's Box on a journey towards that moment where nothing is left but to stand face to face in affirmation or regret ... yes or no ... within the Pnuembra.

Time present and time past / Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past. / If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
- T.S. Eliot BURNT NORTON
(No. 1 of 'Four Quartets')

Saturday, October 03, 2009

Cold outside

Dreamt a delightful dream last night; today received word from my beloved.
Her voice a hundred times over rested on my chest; I fell asleep.
The heart ecstatic at being ever so pressed warmed the cold, grey afternoon.

- See: Writings

:: note :: ... inspired by 30 Sijo Poems translated by Chung Chong-Wha ...

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

soon ... eventually

Eventually she stopped death outside. Never again would they add pillows to prop up her misunderstandings. No more negativity. Who had been more noble? Firmly rooted to the earth, one must act. I will transcend this way, where I lie, a miraculous mystery.

- See: Writings

:: note :: ... a counterpoint to this soon by Crag Hill ... find this type of juxtaposition/playing fun ... hope it doesn't offend ...

Tuesday, August 04, 2009

Seoul Writings III

1. Doksu To Labor Pomp & Protest
28/7/09

We catch the last moments of the splendid changing of the guards at Doksu Palace. Colourful flags of Dragon & Phoenix snap in the procession.

Protesters camp outside city hall while bored police stand ready with sheilds.A long white proclamation banner heralds discontent.

From the human rights office hangs a stark multi-storied banner demanding the Premier fulfill his election promise to make Seoul more handicapped accessible.

A stately building surrounded by wooden benches & a spacious courtyard is the Ministry of Labor. Two mythical beasts guard the entrance & Harubang watches over the parkade.

The gorgeous night sky illuminates the tranquil clouds. For the sake of memory peace reigns for all the silhouetted foot soldiers of the night.


2. Insects on Line 6.
29/7/09

Have you ever had a huge snake wrap itself around you or held a blue silvered beetle in your hand or watch a gecko climb up your arm. I have and wonder how the snake, beetle & gecko feel. Did they feel muscles tighten & tense or a tickling of the skin or a slight moisture? Would they ask if I am rich or do I miss steak? Do they have dreams? Would they like to be a broadcaster or a scientist? Would they smile & wave goodbye from a crowded Metro car. They did.

3. Pansori
30/7/09

Climbing four floors of sweat shops we enter a new world on the final fifth floor. Unfolding is a House Concert sposored by Korea Seodosori Music Research & Preserve, Inc. Ass. Traditional drums and instruments are randomly displayed. A collection of pots fills the walls of one side wing & chests, hats, & traditioal furniture are displayed In the other side wing. The main room is open with a floral screen backdrop surrounded by ninety floor chairs. We are in a living shrine. A twelve year old girl begins the concert. Her intense concentration, precise practised fan gestures & gently forming tonseong cry bring tears to my eyes - this is the river of culture. The evening is precious. The flow between performer, drummer & audience is a joyous exchange of focus, laughter, clapping, sing-a- long & rapture. A considerable display of technique transforms into the direct energy of sharing probing the space where tradition & the intensely private artist associations broaden into meditations on the everlasting themes of the human condition - love, life & death.

4. Pyeongchon / Elder Brother
31/7/09

A ride to the outskirts of Seoul exposes the relentless pace of the inhabitants of this metropolis. At Anyang we are met with a unique blend of casual, quiet dignity & respect. The bamboo rice meal & the various delicate seafood dishes suits the occassion. Afterwards, as is my habit, I gaze intently outside the taxi & Metro windows like a knife cutting through water (possibly to clean the knife) searching to discipher a code for this inner disarray & carefully inspect domains of the frozen heart. I grind my teeth on the ten thousand poem stones, as is my habit.

"We all wish
to become something.
You to me and I to you
wish to become an unforgettable gaze."
- from Flower by Kim Chun-Su (trans. by Kim Jong-Gil)


5. Yumyeongsan I
1/8/09

Night drive on the highways winding to the top. Backtrack as pavement crumbles & collapses. It is easy to backtrack with a will to meet. Tents on tents jostle for space like Metro passengers at rush hour. Walking the path four seek refuge. We stir the water with rocks splashing our desires. We squat as patient companion frogs full of anticipation. We plant seeds guided by the forest caretaker's soft words. We call for good spirits through blades of grass. We float our dreams of innocence in shallow stream pools. At night we dream our dreams of experience. The future swings lightly.


6. Yumyeongsan II
2/8/09

Wake up. Wake up sounds the plaintive cry. It is time to run under the bridge. Back & forth a hundred times they cross like an exorcist expelling hungry ghosts. The water is cold & the deep valleys catch the wind. Later the Shaman teacher laughs & sings for joy. He is happy to be surrouded by friends. We drink to each others prosperity.


7. Seoul Plaza
3/8/09

Love is a poweful addiction. I danced with the National Changgeuk Company of Korea. A moment in their performance of 'Romeo & Juliet' actors move out into the audience to gather participants for the festival where the two lovers first meet. As sky meets earth I spread my arms like wings to lightly tread the grass. Then make a bridge for a star crossed lover to cross - she smiles. The night lights of the sky scrapers carve a plaza of Pansori tragedy Tear the sheet of life to feel the division. For whom do we weep?


8. Children's Grand Park / Youra
4/8/09

The splendour of youth. Carefree enthusiasm with knowing sensibilities. Ride life to the extreme. Don't stop. Repeat the good times. Make friends. Say yes to your guardians. Play hard, play serious, play fun & play often. Have dreams. Ask questions but more importantly watch closely. Look for the new. Remember the old. Help each other. Make today the best day of your life.