This is what I have in mind when I think of an *in-home* host outfit. The bottom two would be perfect… along with the delightful poses of course. (Vintage Issey Miyake)

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Pieces of privacy have filled up the past two months – a rare scene until recently. Having been a child of *crowd environment* has brought up the wrong impression of the word alone – aka earnest leisure. It’s been more of a luxury in my experience. Set against social scenes it has now, newly, become to me a play of light and shadow; one isn’t necessarily better than the other,  having both is the best.  Noticeably, it’s the difference between the unbothered pensiveness of lying awake in bed, for example, and nights filled with people, chats, and laughter, where being out of it is sort of taboo. This ubiquitous contrast, though already a cliche (i.e. there is no good without evil), makes both happenings more enjoyable. Super enjoyable, really.

Loving these sculptures by Belgian artist, Fred Eerdekens. Somehow, through all the intricacies that are probably involved in their creation, the beauty lies in their simplicity.

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On the edge of a tongue

of a mind

an impression of something that isn’t really there

like the tree that flipped the bird

the hero who debunked

who now, himself

projects personality where there is none

I am tempted to take you apart

or what do you see in my face

you have not already shed

in your own mirror

an impression of something that isn’t really there

a glare

to develop wrinkles over

the prototype of modern ambiguity

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The *problem* begins when connections that at first seem personal and exciting become conventional and worn. Infuse this notion with a whole lot of passion on the giving end and you’ve got yourself Blue Valentine, the new romance with Ryan Gossling (!!) and Michelle Williams.

The dynamics of it are similar to Revolutionary Road; both with leading female characters who gradually fall out of love and both of which allow the audience to witness the potential extremities of relationships – the happy beginning mirrored against the tragic end.  The men they were crazy about become completely estranged to them for incalculable reasons, and their relationships fall into spirals of human follies and desperation.

Anyway, this isn’t a movie review (although I did truly enjoy both).

It brings me, just for a second, to Alexandra Bachzetsis; a Zurich based performance artist and choreographer. To quote Chus Martinez on her: “She explores the process by which we commodify images, gestures, social attitudes and language”.  Using very basic experiences to show the emotional forces at play in our interactions, she brings to light how the once exciting turns into the repetitive and sometimes unstimulating, leaving us dumbfounded as to what may have happened.

Apply this observation to the failed marriages in both Revolutionary Road and Blue Valentine and you could come to the conclusion that that same learned behavior, if applied to love, can be destructive. And by love I mean ‘in love’ not ‘to love”.  No offense to the institution of marriage, it’s more a criticism of the vow;  the promise of everlasting love seems hollow in hindsight when you consider emotion’s fleeting reactions. What happens when you’re no longer in love? through good or bad seems a harsh sentence for the involved – both, the unenthusiastic participant and the lover who hopes it’s just a phase. That’s what makes these movies so depressing.  And in their case I’m not sure what is more upsetting, the unhappy wives who are *dying* to leave but feel terrible about feeling that way or their husbands who *love to death* and can’t believe this shit is happening to them.  Who’s got the bluer blues here?

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Meditation

You will hear from me

On nights in Williamsburg

The tensions of simplicity,

The fun of complicity

The speed walks of every day,

The smell of food at museums followed by

The sight of murals in cafes.

Then the people:

Sly smiles, pretty faces, unsure dispositions

Looking for Dean or Newton

Welcome to a dark comedy

Eagerly trying

To reconcile a difference that does not exist

A chaos inherent. Seamless remorse

Like in a Woody Allen flick

Nobody off for better or worse

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There is a fine line between cultural displacement and the fleeting excitement of tourists. Stand at the outer limit of a foreign society and you’re just an admirer, looking at good and bad images, finding beauty, or not, but never taking it personally as a passerby.  Step inside and stand at the edge and you’ll sense something completely different, an awareness that is only associated with uncertainty; a disjuncture with pressures of potential metamorphosis. (Btw, is this the difference between dating and marrying? ha.)

The following are paintings by Vietnamese artist Duy Huynh. Dream-like visuals of travelers, both physical and spiritual. A world of ‘floating’ individuals accompanied by only time and fleeting existence. Beautiful.

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