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On Motifs of Harmful Sensation   
06:54am 19/08/2008
  Here are records of comments made on a friend's blog, in which she discusses the awareness of her subconscious. And other small observations:

The subconscious runs every second of a person's life while an average person is conscious for perhaps 16 to 18 hours in a day. The way I see it, subconscious overrides consciousness -- waking life is something of a prolonged state of hypnogogia.

Of course, now I had realized as well, I am INFP. Idealist. Not quite real(istic).

I express ugliness in images and words. Recently I have major repercussions on a previous work I had done.

Considering the idea of the 'motif of harmful sensation'* I think my works belong to that category:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Motif_of_harmful_sensation
*I must credit Ms Bajema for the introduction to this term.*

Recently I realized the gulf of perception between myself and other people. Recently I realized the intensity of my own expression.

Where the search of reason/excuse/explanation is concerned, I had come up with a few:

- Censorship had done wonderful work protecting the minds of people. For the ones unexposed to art images, the rampant sexual content online, the strangeness and vulgarity of my work is intense.

- I have been a happy netizen, been connected to the arts for too long, where more or less, freedom of expression is permissive. I am more de-sensitized to strangeness and seduction as compared to most people unexposed to such content

I am not too sure if I should blame myself. Afterall, there is content in mass publications which I find totally sexist or offensive.

The events are past and dwelling on the past is unhealthy but the person who came up with a statement along the lines of 'Our women could have become maids in other people's countries' -- did not seem to have any idea that:
1. He is implying disrespect for women employees who clean up after him
2. He is implying that women are like objects to be owned

Just as the creators of content like these do not see themselves where they are being sexist, I do not see myself where I am being offensive.

In that sense, every line of word, every image reflects its creator, and thus all text and images contain motifs of harmful sensation.

Of course, I have read writings criticizing the 'War on Terror' to have created more terror. I am asking, then, in terms of the idea, isn't censorship and creative expression the same war on terror?

The former wages a war to protect people from being offended and in its (un)doing, create a mass of people ultra-sensitive to any individualistic expression. The latter materializes terror and spreads it around. Terror -- because individualism has become a fearful disease.

How many towers and how many walls do people need to put up to protect themselves really.

November 2007 I received a lovely birthday gift via mail from Jaki, before her return from Australia to Sg. Stone Gods. Jeanette Winterson. The chapters in which she wrote about a 'Robosapien' created in humanity's quest for objectivity. Because perceptions are never Universal and we imagine a machine could be. Of course there are many other ideas I love in that book.

It gets dryly funny. Sometime last night I was in the Coffee Shop having noodles. On the television screen a Chinese infotainment type of program was playing. Sg-eans are being interviewed on whether they fear the government.

'No. No.' Some of them claimed.

All of them had worn masks over their faces, paper bags over their heads. Identity has become a burden.		  
     

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Nightmares   
02:54am 17/07/2008
  I remember somewhere earlier this year I put out a post about bottling up everything, about using repression as a tool to straighten things out in my life.

I was noticing patterns in my work; how things tend to be cyclic. Whatever this bottling up does, it has led me back to Year 2006. A time-capsule or a time-bomb just exploded on me and I realized I had 'accidentally' created controversy.

Unless one believes that a character could be naturally controversial and that it is a strength to be; the reality of it hit me like a nightmare. I am trying to recover from a bout of flu, that seems rather similar to that bout I suffered 2 years back. Deja Vu. Paranoia and false memories. My dreams and re-living of memories had been intense.

It is a terrifying thing to realize how I had been living on the brink of madness.		  
     

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Distance   
03:35am 08/07/2008
  I'm doing some shifting. Come round to the decision to filter old entries. Eight years of angst-ridden entries is going to be a lot of work.

We are only slightly past the middle: 2008 has been a good year for me so far. Of course, there is always that lingering thought that I am in a very protective environment and that it is 'not real'. It does not contain the threats or malice, or complicated situations existent in the working world. Those I would have to look into, like it or not, in two years' time.

It has been more or less healing:

- Doing good in school. The schedule for the upcoming semester just came in. Fewer contact hours will mean a more balanced life. Things might de-stabilize temporarily while I shift some work assignments.
- By now, as well, matters seem to have resolved themselves within the family.

There are a lot more I want to do.

There is the sense that the past is no longer relevant.

I want to see futures.		  
     

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Madness: A Backlash   
05:58am 03/07/2008
  Had I REcEivEd?

I am struggling very hard to write this:

There are days and nights when senses seem to be heightened. Whatever it is that catches my attention -- images, sound, snippets of conversation from any passing person, seemingly random* websites, WoRds and alphabEts:

-- Hush. Just listen. With eyes wide open, to the physical space surrounding, everything and every bit of information just foRm a continuity: of what I ought to know, ought to consider.

These days, and nights, the event as I had described above is becoming a REcuRRing occuREnce.

I REvisitEd old journals, old journal entriEs. The REcords of old journeys.

They made me not like myself at all. Every entry screams and screams, thundering and piercing through my being. TErrible and TErrifying.

An hour ago I nearly vomited, come face-to-face with a younger self.

I suspect a change might be taking place.

Narcissus: Were he to touch his own REflection he would have seen, feel, hear it being distorted. I tend to think the shape of time is something of a ripple, that spreads itself further and further away from the initial drop.

On the crest of a loop, looking back at the smaller loop which I used to be -- before dissipation. It makes me sick. An hour ago I nearly vomited, come face-to-face with a younger self.

The sun rises in one place. Sets in another. WhEther it is rising or setting, both figure and shadow turn black to the eye. Form and shadow melt into one another. It makes me fear: that I am back to staring at the back of the cave, back to screaming at the back of the cave, Echoes and Echoes. That the back of the cave is all there is before me.

So what is it now.

Do I delete and hide what terrifies me. I doubt it would make me a better person.

Errors. HEirEss. The idea of inheritance haunts me.		  
     

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Hoping this collab turns out   
02:12am 03/07/2008
  Collaborating with a schoolmate on a tale, Mostly I am experimenting. Below are a few very raw sketches. This style kind of speaks to me -- I don't know why. What holds me back is the age group of readers we are going for. Need oodles of refinement, matters to decide.

Yes I love the cat.


Click for bigger images
  
     

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Desert   
01:35am 02/07/2008
 

No it isn't about Mexico

The school vacation ending soon; taking the rest of the time to settle stuff and rest up as much as I could before hell freezes over again. Oodles of administrative red-tape to hop and hurdle over; the thought of them makes me not want to do anything.

Yup there's new* stuff in my sketchbook -- next semester I should be painting/drawing some 20 or 24hours per week. It would be a good time to finalize work.		  
     

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Exhaust   
02:43am 22/06/2008
  That's a lot of melancholy I feel these days -- mostly about not meeting my own expectations and not exactly certain of myself. Bleh.

Meanwhile, this rocks:
http://stereotypist.livejournal.com

:)		  
     

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