Countess in the old photo – inspired by Mary from “Downton Abbey”
They said I have no soul, that I feel no love to people that love me. Only you can see the rebellion in my heart, that it's not that I do not have a soul to love, but my soul would never be told what and who to love. One day, we were sitting on the bench in the garden, and you offered to be my life arguer. I see through your crystal eyes that you are the one I have been waiting for. I might've said something horrible first time when I met you, but in fact I'd been loving you for the whole time. You said you still remembered my mockeries towards you during our first encounter, that how much I disliked you, but like I said before, you must pay no attention to what a woman says.
I know I have ruined my only chance to be with you. I hesitated. I questioned the certainty and believed in the uncertainty. Excuses replaced with remorses. We are all stuck with all the choices we made in life. The person I love, I can't love. They say there is no can/can't in love, but only will/won't. Can I love you? I can't, but I will - no, I am, still loving you! I just can't.
I'd rather die alone than with someone that's not you - how good the words sound! I have the courage to suffer, yet I do not have the courage to seize whom I love. Let the can and can't overflow in my mind, just don't listen to the wills in my heart. I conform to be the doll in the house, the socially expected Countess of a Right Honorable Lord of Wealth, of Fame, of Status. Indeed, life should be predictable; it should be expected and respectable by the society. It should be a duty for the commonwealth; the better good. Dare I hope for salvation or redemption from the consequences I suffered? I dare not. Hopelessness is easier to carry than false hope.
But my dear, you must pay no attention to what I say. I know I can't have you. I must let my soul die once and for all. For the thought being with a man whom I have no love to give for the rest of my life is utterly horrid. Yet what's even more unbearable is to forget that life has once been bright and hopeful.
In time, I will merely be remembered as the Countess in the old photo. There will be no trace of myself, for I had left behind my soul at a place where it cannot be found. No one could ever find it, except you.
Visual sketch #1
The urge of creating something static in time has gotten into my mind recently. Spending 20 minutes on sketching a simple idea, plus a little description on the process of creating, should satisfy such urge.
Visual sketch #1 came with the initial idea of creating a patten that conveys confusion. I started off with a single pattern then multiplied it into a more complicated one. After adding some colors, I realized the pattern and the color resemble the old Hong Kong Identification Card that I used to have. I then decided to sketch it specifically as confusion in identity.
07.07.11
A Quarter Century: On Time
Time is by far one of the most significant topics that I've been pondering over the past years of my life. On a practical level, the term "timing" is always heard among people, especially when it comes to matters on romantic relationships. What does it really mean when people say "Oh I think it's not working out because of incorrect timing?" Do they mean "incorrect timing" as "mismatch in the occurrence of interests," or a more poetic and indirect form of rejection, that our love and passion cannot be reciprocated because of something as abstract, conceptual and universal as time itself? One must understand the different expectations behind every human's heart, that even when the so-called "perfect timing" occur, the choice will stil remain intact, for it is not a matter of timing and location, but rather, the wants and expectations. A man can't keep a long distance relationship with a woman, not because of timing, but because he thinks pursuing his journey at that time is more important than staying with his woman. Not because he doesn't love her, but one must understand the seasonal nature in time, that there is always time for every thing, as said by the author of Ecclesiastes. In this light, time is not the reason but merely a condition in the situation, and I found the urge to clear Time's name among millions of broken hearts.
Timing is one of the greatest components in my craftsmanship as an editor, for every single frame on the film is as important as the whole. One frame off, then the whole narrative experience will crumble into merely images sticking together and being played in time. It must be as precise and refined as a piece of diamond, that every single scene, shot, second and frame convey what need to be expressed. The story in the film will end too, like our lives, and we're making sure every frame in the 2 hours of film contribute to its worthiness. In reality, it is also about being patience for the time arrival. I find myself in this immense urge to be ahead in my career and my works, for I always feel like time is running short, that it'll be too late if I don't act now. Such mentality allows me to push myself harder, but also isolates me further from my friends, for such is perhaps what my friend referred as the "NYC lifestyle." When it comes to moment when loneliness seem to be unbearable, I have to remind myself the choice that I made in time - that now is the time to pursuit my dream and career. Hence, timing is never my reason of rejection. I even think it's exactly timing that bring me to my decision, that it is perhaps time to think otherwise. But I am not as certain as I sound, yet I started to realise what lies behind the "perfect timing" is nothing but my insecure cowardice.
On a metaphysical level, it is perhaps the most absolute and tangible truth to our human experience, that the current of time will continue to stream. Often time we try to cup the water from the current with our hands and pour it into the jar that we made, yet the water, now away from the current, is no longer what it used to be; being separated from the current, the water in the jar no longer bear the same nature and character, for we've edited and taken out of its context, a process which we romanticize and transcend something mundane into heroic. What was felt in the present now feels better when it's being felt as the nostalgic past. Time, as conceptual and abstract as it may be, is also as attractive as a mysterious lady who continuously teases and lures me into the dark alleys. Often time I only catch the corner of her skirt and the back of her long hair. When I am close enough get a grasp of her, brush her long hair and unveil the mysterious beauty, I always find out that she's in fact farther than I thought she was, running into a darker alley than the previous one.
The pursuit of Time, within time, continues.
I just wanted to be perfect – inspired by Nina from “Black Swan”
All those restless nights. Alone in the studio. Standing in front of an array of mirrors, perhaps I wasn't as lonely as I thought. There was always a pair of eyes following me when I endeavored to express myself through my dance; that conscious beams of vigilance, so-called windows of one's soul, if only they would actually reflect the longlasting struggles between the two in my soul!
"Let me go," one would say, "What have you done to yourself? Stop torturing yourself. There is nothing to suppress nor to hide from. Be fair to me. Come to accept my existence, that I am in fact part of you, that we are all you have."
"No! Don't let go," the other one would say, "you have the power to contain and control yourself. You have to. Don't trust yourself, for even the mind is strong, the body is weak, vice versa. You are more than yourself; you are more than us. You just need to work harder."
"To hell with everything you said! You would never be yourself if you don't accept who you really are. What you think would never bring you to where you want to be - the top among all, the almighty spotlight on the stage - but only what you feel within the passions. Be earthly, spontaneous, unpredictable - then I offer you everything. Order comes out of chaos, evil fallen among the good, and we are nothing else, but the same. Let them all go. Just go."
"The destructive path would pave itself in front of you if you deviate your course. You followed it because you believed in its purpose. The worst feelings of all is to wake up in the morning regretting what you've done last night, when it was the moment to unleash the other one within us. No, do not fall into the trap. The way to make us better is not by letting go, but to not letting go."
As the struggle continued, I sensed my reflection in the mirror began to turn towards me and stare deadly behind my back. I was made to believe that I wasn't alone in the studio all the time. Me, my own self gave me the best companionship I could ever had in the whole world. I would never feel lonely, as long as I sense that pair of vigilant eyes watching over my back all the time. I was, and would never be alone. NEVER.
I wanted the two to be in union. I wanted to cease the countless battles between two. I wanted to be in one.
Yet, to dwell in time is to struggle in-between two in eternity. No true victory or defeat could be resulted within. Either we live or die, together, forever.
I just wanted to be perfect. I tried. I really tried.
Unrequited – short monologues inspired by Naoko & Toru from “Norwegian Wood”
"Lying down with you is a gesture of submission. I have given up my conscious effort of guarding myself. I offered my most delicate possession, my body, to you. For I can only have two choices in my life: to retain or to surrender. I cannot control myself - not my mind, my body, the person I love, the voice I heard. It is as if I do not belong to myself! You, however, showed me that there could be a third choice in my life, that there is indeed a chance to make sense of the way I am. Tell me it's fine to be who I am with your tactile touch. Reassure me the contradictions between my mind and my heart are normal with your sensual lips. It is so dangerous yet so exciting when two become one: I am you; you are me.
Yet, the more I think, the more confusing it became - why do you still love me when I can no longer reciprocate your love? We live in two different worlds. I can no longer live in yours, which means you have to come live in mine. No, you've sacrificed too much for me. Tell me you're getting tired of me, that you hate me, that my selfish mind contains no one but myself, that I'm insane and unworthy. Say anything you want that denies and rejects my existence, but don't say you love me no matter what. Your existence is a torture to my existence. The more you love me, the more I hate myself. I want you to love a woman who can provide you with a normal relationship, a normal sex life, or more important, to reciprocate your giveaways of love. Abandon me. Leave me behind in the woods. For I will still understand why you do it. But loving me - I can't understand. I just can't."
- Naoko
"Only the roaring ocean can fathom the deep sorrow I suffered in my heart. The lost of love one, of concrete beliefs, of absolute truth, of reality. One must dive into the sea of insanity and scream like a ghoul - that's the only way to manifest pain from the lost love if one decides to live. You wanted me to remember you forever. And you chose the most selfish and effortless way. You gave up the chance to live together, to experience life, to create dreams, to make love. Rather, you sealed our memories in the past, which will always be haunted and overflew by remorse as a result of your unnatural absence. You failed to cease my heart, for even though I miss you, I can never love you anymore - you erased our good memories and replaced with feelings that you could never understand, for you are already gone."
- Toru
Preface: a preface of a story of some sort, which I still haven’t thought of a title for it, yet refuse to use “Untitled” as its title
I realized I've been more skeptical than before when I meet new people. Not that I don't trust them, but I simply don't trust myself of the feelings and thoughts that conjured in my mind and heart when I get known them. I used to have (and still, in certain extent) an overtly tendency to conceive a pleasant looking person to be a kind, sweet and warm person, for what seem to be pleasing to my sensory system should also be pleasing to my mental imagination - that seemed to be a sound logic for me when I was still young, and perhaps, still to a lot of people in my current age.
"What seem to be good externally shall also be good internally" - what a simple, direct yet profound idea that had led me throughout my stage of adolescence! Profound not in itself, but the logic behind, that what seems to be beautiful and pretty should inheret the nature of goodness. All the girls that I have crushes on were as holy and pure as a saint: they don't lie, steal, manipulate friendships, think of wicked thoughts - they're even more angelic than angels! To me, they're as clean as an infant even after an intensive workout; their tears were heavier than any major thunderstorm, and even their misdemeanors were seen as a luring action of carelessness which could be forgiven and excused instantly. What a pathetic yet strangely powerful logic behind such thought!
This is one of the main sources of my thoughts - what is true Beauty? If you've read my previous posts (which I don't think people do - they've complained to me about the length of my posts), you should know I've written a great deal on Beauty. This is a topic that I don't think a man like me (a visual animal who happened to be visually gifted - sort of) can avoid contemplating. To me, an artist is not a title or occupation that you give or receive, but is reflected it through lifestyle and attitude towards life (that's why I prefer not to call myself an artist - the moment you start calling yourself an artist, you are already not one, which I just did) (Yes, I don't regard myself as one yet) I believe that the pursuit of beauty is one of my life goals, and whether it will be manifested through my film, word, attitude or lifestyle, I am constantly asking myself what Beauty is and why am I so attracted to such notion, that I allow my rationality to be compromised and to think that external good equals to internal good.
Another source of my thoughts is the condition that can never be avoided in the human experience - time. For me, nothing can escape the baptism of time - and yes, I chose the word baptism, for I think that those who have gone through the passage of time would be reborn again, even though they might be closer to their mortality. Time has so many facets that I don't think a paragraph or two could explain my views on it. I'll let my future posts to do the explaining (or it's too late now - time says it's 2AM now. I have work tomorrow).
I start this series of blog posts with the intention of releasing some of the thoughts trapped in my mind for quite a long time - trapped because I couldn't find either the appropriate time or place to set them free. I was given an "awkward turtle" from my friends when I was discussing existence/sexuality with an acquaintance in a lounge. Now, I know a lounge might not be the best place to have a deep conversation, but that just showed how desperate I was just to find an occassion to have a conversation with people, not even to mention the slight chance of encountering someone with similar interests and views on life!
This is not intended to be a confession or evaluation of the mistakes that I made during my past, nor a philosophical or theological account of my existence, even my writing and thinking might bear such quality. It is merely an observation and contemplation on my human experience in general, with the motivation of crossing boundries of fictional world and personal experience through creative writing.
My body might be trapped in one place at one time, either in my office or in my bedroom; I am, however, as omnipresent and free as any one of the free spirits in the universe, for what I have is my free mind - and perhaps, a pen, a notepad, a novel, a kindle, a smartphone, a laptop......
K. Tso
October 19, 2010 @ Manhattan
To Hand
To Hand,
It has been so long since I held you. It used to be a simple and natural act when I was a kid, but now, it became so heavy that I basically have to force myself to make the contact. As one ages, it has transformed from security-seeking to an expression of affection. How often does a man touch you, if you do not belong to the one he adores?
Holding you is a conscious sign of reassurance to the one being held, for the holder yearns for nothing but a human connection. Unlike kissing or any sort of intercourse, which flood us with passion and libido and causes us to be unconscious during the process, holding you is an unique experience of exchanging consciousness between two beings, for we are fully aware of the physical touch we're having. Such awareness is a result of your significance: you are how we perceive the world; you are the most sensitive part of the body that allows us to experience and manifest our existence through various forms of your gestures - feeling, directing, cursing, hurting, comforting......all performed by you.
While kissing causes me to forget the world, holding you only reinforces your presence. With all the passion, desire, fear and insecurity stripped inside my mind, what i want is to feel the human connection again; the simply physical touch of another being - to be reassured of our consciousness, and also, to manifest my affection to who I adore once (and perhaps still). You are still as delicate and soft as you are. If only I could take the risk and embrace you again with my hand, and perhaps even few seconds longer, I would once again experience briefly the feeling of being together.
Rohmer’s “Claire’s Knee” – loving and desiring
Rohmer's simple yet profound play on such simple gesture of touching one's knee is very impressive. Jerome, a middle-aged man, transforms one of his secret desire of touching Claire's knee into a moral act of consolation. It does indeed provide a great pleasure when one's desire has transformed into something that is ethically meaningful - it turns one into a saint. But Jerome's story also points out the very thin line lying between morality and immorality, for if he alters his way of touching Claire's knee even in the slightest way, it will become a caress instead of sympathy and consolation. The decision made in the split second could either turn him into a saint or a pervert! Rohmer really did a great job in giving complexity to such simple gesture.
Claire's knee has also directed me to ponder on the morality of love. The focus, however, is not on the age difference, but the power struggle occur between and old and young couple. Men and women are never in complete unison: women mature earlier and die later than men. Young girl desiring over an older man (and vice versa) - a natural phenomenon as a result of difference in our biological timings. Even when we endeavor to match ourselves up with someone that has share the same timing, power struggle still take place, for Rohmer points out in the film that it is desire that drives the struggle. "Desire followed possession," said by Jerome in the story.
Is it wrong to be possessive when you love someone? How can one not wanting to possess his/her lover with all his/her passion and emotion? It seems that love is defined by an immense desire to be with someone, and in some extreme case, could be fatal if such desire is not satisfied. Such condition is worshipped by numerous love songs and stories, and has became a religion with uncountable believers. But is that really love? Sadly, a side of our human nature tells us that sometimes we want to be caught in the struggle and be possessed by other, and even such venomous relationship is injurious, we indulge ourselves in this feeling of being desired by someone so to distract ourselves from loneliness. Such feeling of fake love gives the recipient nothing but a masochistic gratification. Sadism, masochism and objectification - these are eternal topics for philosophers in the discussion of love and sexuality, as well as a form of wickedness from our nature that is destructive yet also fascinating.
Time is the path that defines love - the longer you walk on it, the more love you experience. True loves can only be manifested and experienced through the walk of time (refer to "Time and Love"). It is time that sanctifies one's desire and transform it into love. Ultimately, desire must take in a different form in a loving relationship, for we all know that the road to eternal love cannot be filled with constant intimacy and desire - it is too tiring.
Nolan’s “Inception” – further thoughts on dreams
Extracting and manipulating dreams - how intriguing it is, even just to read the words themselves! Once again, scriptwriting 101 reminds us that stunning visual effects, good-looking casts and stylish mise-en-scene are all great to have, but what's even greater is to have a sound concept. For a writer, one of the most difficult part is to rearrange and represent the concept in a different fashion, since we are pretty much only re-telling the Seven Plot Lines over and over. Nolan has successfully created a world based on our fantasy with dreams, and he did well in articulating and describing the feeling of a dream and developing it into a breathtaking action story. Personally, I think those anti-gravity, slow-motion and collapsing shots are visually stunning, but that's not how we experience dreams. The reason that creates the magic is also its shortcoming - film has to be cinematic. Everything is cinematic nowadays, and frankly speaking, after hundred years of training, we are being shaped to experience nearly everything in a cinematic way. But there are still part of the experience in our dreams that cannot be replicated, not even with the latest IMAX technology, since after all, dreaming is a very subjective experience.
In the film, an architect has to create the dream world for the subject so the intruders could stealthily enter his subconsciousness. What if the architect is the subject himself? I experience that quite often - as long as I am aware of myself dreaming in the dream, I become the architect. Once I realize that, I either continue to follow the plot of the dream, or I can completely reverse the direction of my dream and do something completely different - usually something that I desire to do at that period of time. Often time they're predictable, but some of them could be quite challenging to remember after waking up. It is like what Cobb said, "dreams feel real while we're in them. It's only when we wake up that we realize something was actually strange." Isn't such strange feeling a result of discovering the desires our rational mind buried into our subconsciousness? We feel strange and obscure, for we refuse to acknowledge the feeling of familiarity with such morbid and disdainful desires, the fact that "human are amphibians," as C. S. Lewis points out, "that they are half spirit half animal...while their spirit can be directed to an eternal object, their bodies, passions...are in continual change." Rapid change requires rapid burial, in a speed which consciousness cannot even perceive and form a trace of record.
To me, what's more attractive is not the ability to control dream, but to share dreams with others. With the most eloquent words written by the most talented writer, a thought can still fail to be fully conveyed because of the limitation of speech and language. How effective it is then to bring others deep down to my subconsciousness and experience my thought at first-hand? The greatness of dreams is the process of dreaming - dreaming and realizing that you're dreaming afterwards, for our human nature tells us clearly that if we stay in dreams forever, we then will yearn for reality. Going through the process of dreaming by oneself causes loneliness, but going through with others offers companionship, the antidote of loneliness.
A totem, for Cobb, is to test if he's in reality or not. Don't we all also have a our own totem to distinguish reality from dream? The purpose, however, is completely different in this context. Musicians have their instruments as totem; philosophers use their minds; lovers with their hearts...Our totem is not to bring us back to reality, but to remind us about the other world, the realm of dream and ideals. It is by our nature to possess such ability to transcend our mind into the metaphysical world, and our totem is the key for entrance.
Re: fringe.
(Original post - http://tugeende.blogspot.com/2010/07/fringe.html)
Even you said you're not a textile artist, but the concept behind the knitting has made the scarf an art piece. I am flattered that I will become the displaying model of such delicate piece of art.
The breaking of time/space continuum is a condition that remains mythical and hence fascinating to us. With such possibility, mental intercourse seems to be more superior than physical one. However, like what you've said, the limitation of mental intercourse in time and space is the lack of option to be bodily connected to each other. Could such defect affect how two people perceive each other? It seems that mental vulnerability is much more fragile than physical vulnerability, but in fact they are the same: loneliness bounce back and forth between the physical-mental spectrum, and in fact, what I discovered about myself is the tendency to switch actively to the opposite when I dwell on one side. Again, the conscious in-between-ness in my nature that either halts all my action or pushes me to the extreme. How ironic it is that my in-between-ness causes me not to be able to dwell in between the body-mind spectrum! Am I the only one who constantly experience such error of existence in life?
And right now, Simone, I found myself to be on the verge of giving up my mind in exchange of body. But what's even more upsetting is I know my consciousness would never allow me to do that. It is like what I've told you before - a painting of a man trying so hard to reach to the hand from the heaven, yet being dragged down by numerous hands extending from the ground. The ultimate question of freedom remains, and what's even more ironic is, sometimes I think we prefer not to be free, as Dostoevsky said, "man may consciously, purposely desire what is injurious (but not advantageous) to himself, what is stupid...in order to have the right to desire for himself."