Dreamwalker Dance Company applied for a grant to commission me to create a new set of Interstitials for the next Whole Shebang. We just found out a few days ago that they got the grant, so my commission is rolling on ahead. It's a big one. For me. My biggest one yet

I'm doing research today, having an amazing time, lots of interesting, potent stuff... If you haven't figured it out already based on previous posts, the theme this year is "twins" or "twinning" ...which is why I posted this photo of the National Geographic, and this research on Chinese couplets.

Right now, I'm watching a video that another artist friend happened to share today: Lone Twin, a film by Anna Van der Wee, which you can watch in its entirety on the TVO website, if you happen to be in Canada. (The film's beautiful French name is "Pas de deux.")

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I'm not.

Pregnant, that is. Or I am, but it's not what you think.

In my dream I was pregnant, and there was a strange search of some kind. For a father. Very specifically: "for a father." Not "the father." There was also a pile of dirty dishes. Just a few. In a plastic bag, I think. Eventually I rinsed them out and gave them away.

I was on my way to the airport. I had been away for about a month. The feeling / thought that lingered and stayed with me as I started to move from dream state to waking state was a sort of persistent pattern that went more or less like this: "I don't know if I can still abort. I didn't know before I left, I wasn't sure. Now I'm sure, now I know. Is it too late to abort?"

I woke up from the dream slowly... and in my belly that feeling of being pregnant stayed with me.

No, I'm not pregnant. And no I am not planning to have a baby.

I think the dream was about my writing. The message from within was just "too late to abort" or "no don't abort; take this to term."

It's been about a week since returning from nearly a month in Asia. I've been away from the writing part of the work since the new year (though I was binding some writing into little booklets for a while). Now I'm home and working again.

I think that was my body telling me to not leave aside the writing too long. "Take it to term."

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It was actually my recycling bin that she'd thrown the ends into, so I've reclaimed them (not dirty!) and stashed them in the sewing drawer in case they come in handy another day.

Did some writing. Now for a walk outside.

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...is that you already know how you feel about the problem, and you've already formulated your opinion.

For me, that is the hardest place to begin writing. I like mystery, exploration, the unknown, that which has not yet been made visible.

I hate re-hashing what I already know or think or feel as if they were fresh thoughts. I hate trying to render my existing knowledge and theories into an interesting essay.

I prefer to not know the answer, and to not even know the question. I prefer to begin by exploring a nagging feeling, or an impression, or some other sensation that arouses my curiosity. These initial considerations inevitably do three things:

• propels (compels) the development of thoughts throughout the rest of the paper
• creates a position which results in the formulation of a question or a problem
• gives me a host of things to "unpack" for the remainder of the paper

The first and last are quite similar, but different. The first is about an emotional-psycho-social propeller that creates an emotional arc through the work. The last is about having a treasure chest of analytic, empirical, lingistic or otherwise debatable points to dissect, describe, and with which to persuade. Whereas the first is about engaging the humanity in the reader, the last is about exercising the intellectual. 

What I hate is having a host of things to unpack, and no emotional propeller with which to start the whole discussion.

I need that ultimate first story - a fresh, compact, compelling metaphor for the rest of the writing to come.

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A lot of websites blocked. But I am eating well.

This is a picture of some steamed noodles I had last night. You take a bundle out, dip it in some soupy sauce and enjoy a quick jolly chew before you wolf it down so you can repeat the steps as soon as possible. This is a new favourite dish for me. They're kind of like Chinese rigatoni... very al dente but because the noodle is fresh (I don't think you can buy a dry version to make at home).

Come to think of it, quite likely rigatoni was inspired by this Chinese original. Like spaghetti and comedian dell'arte masks.

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Found it here.

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It isn't even just the words, it's the sensibility that is different. I can feel my insides adjust: I encounter the world differently, I receive sensations differently, I am aware of myself differently.

It's growing a bit exhausting to run around scribbling on all the different mediums (working in all the different spaces) but I can't give up any one of the feelings or channels just yet.

Modes, that's probably the word I should use. Every workspace creates a different mode of experience and expression.

With my journal, I notice the most stark differences. Would you believe me if I told you I don't realize I have some thoughts or feelings until I open my notebook and start to write with pen to paper?

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Just submitted another proposal. There's always this phase of dread, that is taking longer and longer to shake off and replace with excitement and anticipation... More and more it's just dread, combined with anguish, intolerance, impatience... Instead of writing more proposals it'd be awfully nice to just make and do things. That'd be a really nice new year's resolution. Less proposing, more doing and making.

Still, I am lucky to be doing this instead of a regular day job.

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See the full gallery on Posterous

Last night's dinner.

Wish I could make almond dessert soup with egg whites perfectly like this.

Wish many things.

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This HungryforHK blog has some good photos of the famous Taiwanese shaved ice. It's been family function after family function after family function since arriving in Hong Kong. Grandpa just called to say I'm off the hook for tonight - "go do whatever you want," he said. Yay!

Mysteriously, whenever I come to Hong Kong I always go on a Taiwanese shaved ice pilgrimage... I've never had it in Taiwan yet. Maybe this time when we go back to the night market in Taipei we'll find it. (Although, shaved ice from a stall at the street market in Taipei seems way sketchier than shaved ice from a global franchise in Hong Kong....)

Last night we went around in circles on the hunt for stinky tofu in Mong Kok. Will post photos and location soon.

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Found a book of Walasse Ting poems and paintings.

Started reading a poem out loud. In French. He also had poems in German. And Chinese.

(I got to keep the book I found. A gift, for loving poetry and paintings so intensely. Isn't that something?!)

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See the full gallery on Posterous

Almonds! Still in their shells. The tip of the shell was usually split open slightly so you could put your thumbnail in there and split them all the way open. In the photo above, the five nuts on the left are the almonds still in their shells. The lone one on the right is an almond de-shelled.

They taste like heaven.

A barely perceptible dusting of savouriness on the outside - so subtle that I'm not sure if they've been flavoured or not; it really just tastes like this is all-natural almond goodness - you barely register the savoury scent when it morphs into the (mostly) sweet (slightly) bitter taste of almond skin, and then you bite into the nut: the words vanilla, milk, and sweet again come to mind, but there is no word for the aroma that lingers like incense on your tongue, rolling around inside your mouth, long after the nut is gone.

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(I started these two weeks ago.)

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Lyrics in Portuguese and English courtesy of lyricstranslate.com:

Eu queria cantar-te um fado

Eu queria cantar-te um fado
Que toda a gente ao ouvi-lo 
Visse que o fado era teu

Fado estranho e magoado
Mas que pudesse senti-lo 
Tão na alma como eu

E seria tão diferente
Que ao ouvi-lo toda gente
Dissesse quem o cantava

Quem o escreveu não importa
Que eu andei de porta em porta
Para ver se te encontrava

Eu hei-de por-lhe alguns versos
No fado que há nos teus olhos,
O fado da tua voz.

Nossos fados são diversos
Tu tens um fado, eu tenho outro
Triste fado temos nós

I would like to sing a fado

I would like to sing a fado for you
One that, everyone when they heard it,
Would know it was made for you

A strange and sorrowful fado
Yet, one that you would feel it
So deeply in your soul as much as I do

This fado would be so unique
That everyone, when they heard it,
Would tell you who was singing it

Who is the author does not matter,
Because I went door to door
in the hope of finding you

In the lyrics, I would pour some verses
From the fado that lives in your eyes
From the fado that lives in your voice

Our fados are so unlike
Your fado is of one sorf, mine is of another
How sad our fado is

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Today, Andrea Nann and I had a phone meeting about The Whole Shebang 2012. She asked if I were writing a new piece for Shebang, something to do with couplets because she had noticed this new page on my site: "splits / twinning / couplets" ...... Immediately, I thought of Chinese couplets. I tried to explain what they are to Andrea, but I couldn't remember all the formal complexities. So hours later, I am now looking it up. And boy, I was not wrong when I insisted to her that Chinese couplets are not like two rappers verbally sparring over rhymes. I love hip hop but Chinese couplets are waaaaaay more sophisticated (read: finicky).

Here's what good ol' Wikipedia says (and no, I do not base all my research on Wikipedia, but it's handy for quick - free - armchair reference):

A couplet must adhere to the following rules:

1. Both lines must have the same number of Chinese characters.
2. The lexical category of each character must be the same as its corresponding character.
3. The tone pattern of one line must be the inverse of the other. This generally means if one character is of the a level (平) tone, its corresponding character in the other line must be of an oblique (仄) tone, and vice versa.
4. The last character of the first line should be of an oblique tone, which forces the last character of the second line to be of a level tone.
5. The meaning of the two lines need to be related, with each pair of corresponding characters having related meanings too.

I feel as if I should repeat / re-explain the rules again.

First of all, you need to understand that a couplet can be written by one person, but there can be a duel or collaboration with another individual. The fun (awesome) thing about competing against another person in a couplet-writing duel is that the rules require the competitor to match the first line as much as beat it.

1. If I write the first line, you have to match the first line with a line that contains the same number of Chinese characters (i.e. words).
2. Your line has to mirror the grammatical DNA of my line. Meaning, if my line is made up of "noun verb noun," your matching line has to follow the same pattern, "noun verb noun". 
3. In the Mandarin language, there are four tones for pronounciation. The same sound, e.g. "ma," can be prounounced according to four different tones, which then change the meaning of the sound "ma" to become different words (characters). The first tone is what is called a level tone. The other three tones are oblique tones. If the first line of our jointly-written couplet features a tonal pattern of "oblique oblique level level oblique," then the second line must follow the inverse pattern, i.e. "level level oblique oblique level." You could sort of think of it like iambic pentameter for one line and then the inverse for the next.
4. Hm, well someone decided that the first line must end with an oblique tone, so that the last line will end with a level tone. Probably the couplet sounds more "finished" or conclusive by ending on a level tone rather than an oblique. But I'm not a native Mandarin speaker so you'll have to ask someone else to be sure...
5. This is huge! The reason why it's called a couplet is because the two lines are linked in meaning. Usually, in all the (limited) examples I know, the two lines are discussing the same thing / theme (though they could be expressing opposite views). But more than just being a pair of lines that deal with one idea or topic, each pair of characters must also have related meanings. It's like a twin set of twins within. Twin pea pods containing two rows of twin peas. 

It's nuts, right? And this is all about form -- the content is where a whole other level of sophistication comes in. As I said before, the most fun, awesome thing about writing couplets with another person is that your second line has to match the first and be linked in meaning down to the chronological pairs of characters, as well as be your chance to say something really witty or deep that either elevates the couplet as a whole or makes the sucker who wrote the first line look really bad. (All this I learned from years of watching Chinese movies with my father about our famous flying, kung-fu-fighting literati.)

I can't think of anything quite like it, in terms of other literary games or traditions. Can you?

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