Sunday, February 25, 2018

Sunday Night with Mummy

Mummy and I are sitting in the living room. She is reading a book of Tang poetry so that we can come up with some ideas. She reads me a poem that she had memorised since she was a student, acting out the words with her hands.


She starts giggling immediately after and says that this poem always makes her laugh, "Who does he think he is, man!"

Monday, January 8, 2018

La Cour Jardin

Cold's getting better so no phantom smells today. I lit a candle instead.

Last minute meeting with Z tonight. Man, he really has a lot of interesting stories and ideas. It's challenging at times working with artists but it's tons of fun. I learn a lot.

走火入魔 continues. When I start writing one thing I start going crazy and the words start pouring out of me all over the place and I can't stop - this weekend I have written all kinds of things in here and there and everywhere. I can feel my mind going a mile a minute and my blood pounding in my head when I close my eyes to sleep, which I can't. 

Sunday, January 7, 2018

Batik Smells

Something strange is happening these days. There is a faint scent of flowers and incense following me around, making itself perceptible when I don't expect it at all. I have not been able to locate the source of the smell, as it disappears as soon as I start sniffing at it. Mostly these incidents are happening in my house, or in my bedroom, which leaves me less disturbed. But when it happens in a noisy bar late at night I am totally mystified.

Turns out this condition is a kind of hallucination, most likely a byproduct of my cold, and has a cool name: Phantosmia

What surprises me is how pronounced the smell is from the first time I detected it. It was clearly the same smell as the Batik we bought from Yogyakarta. Of all the phantom smells to hallucinate, why this?

Friday, January 5, 2018


Writing here is a kind of relief when I am ill and my mind has gone hazy from medication. When I'm in such a state it's a terrible thing to do work, but writing down what I think comes a bit more naturally.

I have been reading a book about comic art and it talks about how to "control" time, how an artist can frame and compose each panel to create the tempo and time path for a reader to follow. This sets up a reading experience that requires the cooperation of the reader, like in a dance. On the other hand, video and film give the reader no such control, and requires no such cooperation beyond keeping his eyes open, in front of the projection screen.

It makes me think about the nature of perceptual experiences and a human being's control over their own memory, i.e. time + perceptual experiences. Being obsessed with a memory feels suffocating because more and more detail is lost every time you access the memory. All the subtlety fades away and you are left with a more and more ridiculous caricature in your mind. Cartoons. 

Thursday, January 4, 2018


This year's resolution is to write more, but not here I think. There's too much nonsense here from the past few years. It's a little bit of a bother now as I have to hold myself to a pretty high standard while working in the publishing industry.

What I write here is usually quite minimally produced and I don't intend for that to change much. I'm still thinking what to do.

The week gone by was of some significance. Old things and new things too. It was nice walking on the Mid-levels escalators in Central.

Is there anything more to life than obsession? 

Thursday, December 21, 2017

film crew

Today a documentary production crew came to the office to film a short meeting between a comic artist and me.

Before I left the house Mummy told me that it's not important to talk so much about what kind of comic books sell, it's more important to tell artists to tell their story sincerely and to encourage them to work hard at their craft.
It feels like I talked a lot but even now there's still thoughts racing through my mind - all the intelligent things I should have said.

Ah well.

Thursday, December 14, 2017

hoover dam

we don't talk anymore but some of the dopest shit i've ever seen was with you

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Late Nights

When we lived in London I spent a lot of time staying up late alone in my room, on my laptop or occasionally opening the window to smoke a cigarette. I could spend those hours working quietly or wasting away time online shopping or reading articles or whatever I wanted. 2AM wasn't late at all then, and there were days I literally didn't go out or see any sunlight.

Later on I had much earlier hours to keep but the more I dreaded going back to the office the next morning, the later I stayed up. This made me more tired and feel worse the next day. It's been going on for years and I care less and less what people think of me nowadays but I still wonder what it really means to live and work from this space I inhabit, this human form, that is more like a cave on certain days.

There are so few things to believe in you just end up spending all your time obsessed with them and ignoring everything else...

Sunday, September 10, 2017


It's been a while. I keep feeling the urge to write, to record what is happening and to make clear my thoughts. I'm not really happy about doing it here, but this will do for now.

This weekend a lot of things happened, we did a presentation as FRIENDS at the Substation which felt like a very unusual situation, both in expected and unexpected ways. Before, during, and after that afternoon I had very different, though consistently complicated thoughts about the competition. They have not been manifested adequately so far, and I will need to do more work on it.

For now I want to note that I think that it is a good experience where one's mind is changed, and it seems this evolution is still unfolding. Also, I was unsatisfied with our work but still glad we made the attempt. There wasn't enough time and work done... For what? ... By what standards?

Mummy came down and listened to our presentation and stayed for most of the public jury. We left together at the end.

Today Mummy and I talked in the car, bought groceries, and walked around hand in hand. I also read a manuscript, visited a comic fair, talked to some artists, bought some comic books, and read one in the evening. Going to sleep, I thought about Marx, about labour as a form of human expression. There are some ideas that are the very core of my person but haven't been unpacked sufficiently to guide my career, which is an ongoing frustration. But I'm very sure that in the last few months we have somehow moved forward.

Thursday, July 13, 2017