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Kitchun Sesshuns

Nov. 22nd, 2009 | 11:51 pm



Kitchun Sesshuns

"hot cock soup"
"cocktail club"
"ghouls of reduction"
& "violin boyz"

sounds from a stoke newington kitchen, 2008

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Mountains on CCTV

Nov. 19th, 2009 | 12:59 pm



from Kim Jong-Ku's Mobile Landscape

new dreamsyntax article: Seoul Art - Mountains and the CCTV state

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Basements

Nov. 18th, 2009 | 04:41 pm



we walked from the small stream near guri until it reached the river han...

new dreamsyntax article: "On Basements and the Flattening of Space"

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neon light city

Nov. 12th, 2009 | 08:07 pm



myeongdong in seoul, korea, 2009

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opposite the gimbap store

Nov. 12th, 2009 | 08:00 pm



guri city, korea, 2009

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A Score for Next Stop Raffles Place

Nov. 2nd, 2009 | 10:40 pm
music: piero umiliani - cosmologia



Next Stop Raffles Place




i've taken some liberties with the wordings and smoothed over the crackle and pop but uh... i guess, i've got to entertain myself on the train ride to work, dont i?

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documentation

Nov. 1st, 2009 | 04:42 pm

dreamsyntax.org

and other mythopsychogeographical misadventures

i have finally done some proper documentation of what i've done in the last few years.

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magical spaces

Oct. 6th, 2009 | 11:20 pm

i've just noticed how the trees outside have trunks which are as huge as a shed, and canopies so expansive that i feel like a small (but friendly) ant sneakily creeping past a garden path full of big people's feet, crawling over knobby tree roots like grubby toes dug into the loam.

for me, two things which are instrumental in making a space feel magical are:

very large plants

&

very high ceilings

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behind geylang

Sep. 21st, 2009 | 12:39 pm

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HELLO 2009! HELLO... WHAT? YOU'RE STILL HERE?

Sep. 13th, 2009 | 07:45 pm

on the weekend some of us were going to see a performance but the mood before the event somehow seemed more funereal than the real chinese funeral wake that was incidentally going on in the tent perched right on the doorstep of rowell road (replete with gaily chattering aunties and endless trays of peanuts - at this point it makes me think of le corbuiser's criticism of buildings with no open social areas in front and only hidden courtyards - i reckon these sort of buildings encourage the formation of cliques or closed communities). disheartened by the sombre scene, we went to look for small edibles elsewhere first.

by the time we had returned, it was the middle of the performance and we were forced to tiptoe the corridor outside the tiny room and press our sticky faces against the glass panelling. the cement on the walls seemed to absorb most of the sound, so the sounds of guitars were more a distant echo. standing there in the dim corridor, and staring at the patchy bits of cement, i was suddenly struck with a persistent vision of a particular viewpoint from perumal road; the scene where one gazed out towards the field next to the carpark. the street lights were bright orange to the point of being painfully and threateningly glaring, and the main feature of this place was its emptiness. not just its present emptiness, but what i perceived to be its permanent state of emptiness (even if no place is ever truly empty, i can still damn well imagine a place that is permanently empty). it seemed like an absolutely nightmarish thought; to have to consider something previously of so much meaning as a complete void now. i suppose i'm still angry at you for not having the spirit or will to keep us going.

anyway, to this day i can't quite put my finger on this phenomenon - there is something peculiar about this constant sense, of an imaginary head space superimposed over every other moment. it was for this same reason that i was so excited about Philip K Dick's VALIS where he described seeing Ancient Rome:

"Once, in a cheap science fiction novel, Fat had come across a perfect description of the Black Iron Prison, but set in the far future. So if you superimposed the past (ancient Rome) over the present (California in the twentieth century) and superimposed the far future world of The Android Cried Me a River over that, you got the Empire, as the supra- or trans-temporal constant. Everyone who had ever lived was literally surrounded by the iron walls of the prison; they were all inside it and none of them knew it."

we traipsed off after it ended and had a few beers and good conversation at void decks which brought on more deja vu; feeling like a few years ago and the same complaints (now compounded by more working world problems) but still exactly in the same place. and we went to see Simian Mobile Disco play at Zouk! it was a strange night, a mix of being so right at home at such a familiar place - but tinged with the kind of sensation i got at Fabric at the O2 dome (remember what the guy on the bus to Waterloo said? like paying lots of money to go see an extinct volcano but then nothing happens and you buy an expensive coffee at a poncy cafe at the foot of the mountain and wonder what all the fuss was all about). not to say that Simian Mobile Disco was bad, it was fun, but nothing new; it was a good time and we were all sorry when the houselights came on and the drunken oompa loompas spilled out onto the streets. on my way home i could see the police picking up comatose kids who had collapsed in the delicate hotel shrubbery, with their silhouettes comically marked out in the flattened parts of the bushes. yeah, i guess at the end of the night all we want to do is leave our mark somewhere...

i suppose i am quite lonely at some points these days but then at the same time i'm quite excited with having all this time to myself to build... something. i dont know what. but whatever it is, its better be awesome. and i better find it soon. sometimes i dont know whether it would be better to be happy in love or become an reclusive (but suitably brilliant) hermit. sometimes i suppose if i were still back there and with you we'd be spending a whole lot of time lying about and not thinking up grand schemes or plotting to embark on grand adventures elsewhere. but now my discontent with this place is sharp and clear. and i only make realistic escape plans instead of leaving much of it up to chance so i suppose all that i can do at this point is learn russian and read up on electronics (and build a workshop in my balcony!), and continue working very very hard in flash until the time comes that i can get the hella out of this place, for good. GET EDUCATED AND BUILD A ROCKET AND ESCAPE!!!

oddly, collecting information has recently become an obsession with me. right now i have already learnt how the dry riser works and the other concepts behind how plumbing in the average building works. i imagine that one day i will finally understand everything to do with how buildings are constructed. i suppose a year of living in london has also probably cured me of ever being a complete hippie or punk for the rest of my life, which is probably a peculiar reaction to have to a place like london. as the years pass my tolerance level for things have gone down. that is one thing i'll have to be careful about i guess; i think gentrification and prejudice often come hand in hand and sometimes i have to kick myself to prevent myself from turning my nose up at certain things or events simply because its description doesn't appeal to me. its weird because i've always felt quite aware of this particular quality... of a bullshit tolerance level being quite low especially for friends of mine who are much older. luckily i'm still very much in the business of wasting prodigious amounts of times pursuing wild goose chases and interminable loitering at void decks and playgrounds, so its not like its all That precious yet. god i'd still kill for a gin and tonic now.

anyway, i got a welcome pack from LCC in the mail today, which depressed me much muchly because i'd already written to them to defer my enrollment date to October 2010. the fear naturally eats away at me with October 2010 being more than a year away, and my incipient coming-of-age to the dreaded mid-20s on tuesday. but surely, i suppose it doesn't mean this year should be any less exciting. i just have to make it happen. how hard can that be? there's no time left! we have to do it now!

kafka says: "Hold fast to the diary from today on! Write regularly! Don't surrender! Even if no salvation should come, I want to be worthy of it every moment." i think i shall try to write again, with more intensity.

HELLO 2009! HELLO! I'M STILL HERE!

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