Saturday, August 01, 2009

Notes on a floating world, or about sifu, space and sushi

Rudi Gernreich dressed completely in white tiptoes upside down in a tenuous circular fashion. One after another, former pupils in pristinely bleached retrofitted outfits follow his footsteps onto the empty horizon, each individually vocalizing the same tune that grows louder synchronously. Indeed (and contrary to scientific evidence), their collective voices do project well in far space, a plaintive gravity into the otherwise austere weightlessness of nothing. And just as suddenly, the modernist drama reaches a funereal crescendo.

Eight years after the fact, the floating worlds above offer a floating bento box of liquidified sushi off the menu.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Notes on the River Kwai

An hour passes by and the tree somewhere in Brooklyn grows older.

Such coincidence can only be divine wind, a perfect storm that swirls gusty orange cones in flashing orange lights. Nothing moves, everything freezes, only brazen thoughts discourteously converge. In but not on edge, the violatile fuse so out of context just fails to light. The telltale hiss of trailing sparks never materialize as if drowned by the existing moisture of the surrounding choppy waters. Yet the instructions on the yellow box says to pull the tab out to activate.

Where is William Holden and when will he save us?