Blog *888****
Apologies for the late posting, this was written on Sunday 7 May but have been slightly preoccupied with a certain show.
In Chinese, 888 is the ultimate lucky combination of figures because eight is pronounced “ba” which rhymes with “fa”; meaning prosperity in life- both health and fortune. Chinese logic reveals when you repeat fa, prosperity and luck must proportionately triple. And you know how we Chinese are in spreading love in that area; just look in any chinatown shop window. Next to that white cat with rigormortis of the left paw you will find countless golden statue sets of long bearded old Chinese blokes with shiny bald heads and money slots in their back. Typically, there are three of them, one carrying an exotic oriental fruit to symbolise health, one a scroll displaying Chinese characters of fortune, and I can’t remember what the other guy did- just hung out. Anyhow, you get the picture that alongside casino culture and dim sum, lucky tidings of such nature play an important part in our culture.
The importance of 888? As follows.
Dearest blog, please excuse me if I make you nonsensical today. It is afterall, Sunday at 4:18 am. What? Yes, almost half four in the morning and I have been rudely awakened by the heating going off. That’s how sensitive I am at the moment, the past week I’ve been waking up at 6am… The heating then prompted me to recall my dream; a conversation I was having with my tutor about what I was going to do after uni. Can you believe it? I mean, I’d much rather be flying or running away from a grizzly panda with no arms. Ok, before I go into the conversation, (Freud said, never tell others your dreams- they may be interesting to you, but bore others to death. Ahh well.) Let’s deal with the waking up at six first. On Thursday 4 May I had a conversation that ran as follows (tweaked names and swearing to protect the innocent)
Me: tap tap (on keyboard, uploading blog 7)
Mary: Fick fick, let me check that computer. Fick, there’s no disc. Fick, let me check your desktop a sec.
Me: er, sure. Have you lost something?
Mary: Fick, stressed. Thank fick, it’s still on there. Fick.
Me: Good stuff
Mary: Are you going to be long?
Me: Well if you let me get on with what I am doing I shouldn’t be. (forced laughter)
Mary: forced laughter
Enter Mary five minutes later.
Me: All yours
We embrace, curtains fall.
Saturday,:
Studio ‘General Course’ next to Upper Foyer:
Me: hey Noah, Eve. You two are awfully quiet, usually I can hear hysterical laughter.
Noah: We’re absolutely shattered.
Me: Where’s Herod?
Eve: He had to go home because he’s feeling a bit ill and can’t physically do anymore.
Me: Fair enough
(We go out for a fag break. I don’t usually smoke, but have taken up taxing occasional rollies because it’s a break from the upper foyer and into daylight, so have others e.g Abraham/Moses join us)
Moses: A few of us went to the pub last night but all sat in silence because we were too tired to think
Me: great
And so on.
Read following aloud in Lloyd Grossman voice if desired. Clearly, degree show is taking its toll and turning us into irrational zombies. I hope its temporary.
Back to Freud. Waking up at six, in Freudian terms must symbolise a few things. I am really almost there now. Tech Pagoda is in place, all audio-visual is at the ready, suspended projector is suspending without risk of decapitating viewer (best delete that bit to avoid anti-888) and all that remains is the chess/stratego positioning of my blob pets- most crucial bit. Plus three days to go until assessment.
So,back to the dream conversation with my tutor; an extension of a real coversation that occured earlier in the week. He has just chosen me for a residency at Cove Park this summer.
I could not help but get a tad emotional….
Tutor: [THINKS: oh dear, the young one appears distressed]
[SPOKEN]: “What’s wrong?”
Me: [THINKING ONLY- READ QUICKLY TO MIMIC REAL TIME] Well, I really don’t know how to express my thanks to you. It’s been a seriously amazing journey and the most important one I could embark upon, coming up here after Sheffield and London to do my art. You have told me when it’s crap and pushed me that bit further each time to make it ok again. I am going to miss your teachings terribly. I have decided to get over losing your superior mentoring skills with the following self-help strategy; I will imagine you as a Yoda type figure who appears whenever I am in times of art need. You will appear sat on a cloud in Chinese emperors clothes, and less green than Yoda. You will wave a Mac G5 at me and impart your greatest teaching: ‘Follow your instinct young Padowan’. Then you will fade away.
Me: [SPOKEN] Thanks for giving me the opportunity to live the dream. (or something even worse than this Whitney Houston blunder)
Hopefully nobody will read this. The relevance of 888? Choose your tutor wisely, they are a crucial part of your development and only internally mock you when you go all gooey. Oh, and lucky Cove park that’s why. I wonder how the blobs will grow here?
Speak soon
