Tuesday, January 10, 2006

episode 23

A sketch edition: For three days we cannot see the sun...

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For three days we cannot see the sun. I dreamt about drawing last night. This morning, I had a quiet vegeterian breakfast with Mum at Whampoa market (not forgetting our kopi-o). The area around my place is actually very beautiful, and I thought I would not mind drawing some of the things I see around Whampoa.

I feel a strong desire to look at Turner and Constable, as well as Goya and Degas. While these artists seem passe by today's standards, I feel a need to re-examine these artists for their thought and technique, especially their mature works. After all, I am only beginning.

I want to leave behind a good number of drawings and sketches. I was telling Liang Zhu that the issue of Modern Drawing is an interesting one -- something that needs to be questioned and examined. The last few interesting drawers are Giacommeti, Clemente, Brice Marden, Joseph Bueys, Twombly, and perhaps Guston.

... For three days, we cannot see the sun. My struggle between representational and abstract art should have been solved long ago, and the solution is this: the artist should simply follow himself. One's art should not follow the linear path of art history (i.e. from the representational to the abstract).

(and I might want to talk about poetry later...)

For three days we cannot see the sun. The monsoon wind brought over the moisture-laden clouds, which brought in the monsoon rain. Tingting said that in London, it is all grey, but the raindrops are finer. We cannot see the sun. Mum did the laundry in the dark bathroom. The auntie at the market said she had to iron her clothes, because they could not dry in this weather. call it age-old wisdom or common sense, but this is useful practical knowledge.

... ...

For three days we cannot see the sun. The sky is all grey. Thins sheets of rain pour ceaselessly, flooding the roads and streets as cars and wet feet came and went, but the rain does not stop. There is nothing to see outside the window but rain. Everything is washed over with a whitish-grey. The sun is hidden; the sun does not shine. Inside, there is the quiet gloom of the room.

... ...

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