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<strong>MONDAY</strong><br />
<strong>ARTPOST</strong><br />
<strong>0801</strong>-<strong>2022</strong><br />
ISSN1918-6991<br />
<strong>MONDAY</strong><strong>ARTPOST</strong>.COM<br />
Columns by Artists and Writers<br />
Bob Black / bq / Cem Turgay /<br />
Fiona Smyth / Gary Michael Dault<br />
/ Holly Lee / Kai Chan / Kamelia<br />
Pezeshki / Shelley Savor / Tamara<br />
Chatterjee / Wilson Tsang / Yau<br />
Leung / + DOUBLESPREAD (Lee Ka-sing)<br />
/ My daily life in New York (Wu Wing Yee)<br />
<strong>MONDAY</strong> <strong>ARTPOST</strong> published on Mondays. Columns by Artists and Writers. All Right Reserved. Published since 2002.<br />
An Ocean and Pounds publication. ISSN 1918-6991. email to: mail@oceanpounds.com
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Salvador Dali
ProTesT<br />
Cem Turgay
Open/Endedness<br />
bq 不 清<br />
出 錯 的 藝 術 ?<br />
The Art of Making Mistakes?<br />
我 正 獨 自 走 進 房 間<br />
看 東 西 、 看 過 往<br />
大 家 似 乎 依 然 喜 歡 的<br />
藝 術 品 。 超 現 實 主 義 和<br />
立 體 主 義 的 畫 作 是 不 錯 的<br />
碎 片 四 散 猶 如<br />
利 他 無 私 的 愛 , 而 去<br />
迷 戀 它 們 是 為 了 忘 記<br />
它 們 就 像 忘 記 以 往 的<br />
戀 人 一 樣 。 解 構 主 義 的<br />
建 築 僅 在 平 面 圖 上<br />
顯 得 迷 人<br />
他 們 說 。 有 人<br />
走 錯 了 路 , 最 後<br />
跟 我 來 到 這 裡 ——<br />
沒 有 什 麼 歷 史<br />
被 漠 視<br />
I’m entering a room alone<br />
to see things, to see art<br />
of the past that people seem<br />
to still enjoy. Surrealist and<br />
Cubist paintings are nice.<br />
Fragments scatter like<br />
altruistic love, that to<br />
crush on them is to forget<br />
them like forgetting former<br />
lovers. And deconstructivist<br />
architecture is fascinating<br />
to look at on plans only,<br />
they say. Someone<br />
took a wrong turn and ended<br />
up down here with me—<br />
There is no history<br />
to disregard.
From the Notebooks<br />
(2010-<strong>2022</strong>)<br />
Gary Michael Dault<br />
From the Notebooks, 2010-<strong>2022</strong><br />
Number 148: The Egg in the Nest (July 15, <strong>2022</strong>)
TANGENTS<br />
Wilson Tsang<br />
Life is not a magazine
Leaving Taichung<br />
Station<br />
Bob Black<br />
The following poem, Hong Kong: Songs from the<br />
Rooftops, is an 8-part poem that was written over the<br />
course of the last 5 years. Each part corresponds to<br />
a part of Hong Kong and each part also is dedicated<br />
to a friend. It was completed this past spring. This<br />
poem is dedicated to 8 friends, for whom the city<br />
is a constant conversation in my head and heart,<br />
regardless of the shape and tune.<br />
This poem is dedicated to: Holly & Ka-sing Lee,<br />
Nancy Li, Kai Chan, Yam Lau, Chris Song and Ting,<br />
TimTim Cheng, Tammy Ho and Kristee Quinn.<br />
May they always be filled with voices, food and<br />
sound. Carry on.
Hong Kong: Songs from the Rooftops<br />
“In these shaken times, who more than you holds<br />
In the wind, our bittermelon, steadily facing<br />
Worlds of confused bees and butterflies and a garden gone wild”<br />
-- 梁 秉 鈞 , Bittermelon<br />
II. Lan Kwai Fong: wet season<br />
This is the season of damp hearts and arid throats, lovers left behind with their<br />
dreams in corners back-packed with tokens, paperpock books, dog-eared hair<br />
and bruised lips, a time of green rain and copper stains, the Juliet balconies<br />
upon which folk weight themselves down by the gift of gambolled loss and<br />
precipitant clouds, they carry and barter and frame themselves in the light of<br />
neon, long before social media replaced authentic, melancholic vanity and doubt<br />
with pixelated confidence, the mimicry of clocked confidence in the shadows of<br />
pebbles, all that scampering, the buzzing of lost language and shadows buzzing<br />
beneath mercury, argon and helium—the elemental you.<br />
the taxidrivers hung out of windows like damp cigarettes who gawk at the<br />
young women whose slide-drag temper dread the city’s hunger and the Gweilo<br />
bedeviled underneath the weight of their own expectation, long misplaced in<br />
their tuggin inside their carriage, broken Queen’s English and a poor pupil’s<br />
salivating Cantonese created in a HK Dollar-less giving, expending accounts,<br />
and are you too weighed down and bullied by the gravity of desire in this<br />
quarter, bagless and electric from the gift that marks the walking, invisibly. Or is<br />
it?<br />
pitched into a clever, seasonal shopping bag. Your hair pulled Leontine in the<br />
sailors fist, leaves swept into the gutter.<br />
Body language all graffiti and continent of wirld words surrounding, leave a<br />
divestiture,worlds alight here along the street cars and ghosts, éclair saints and<br />
egg noodle, tart, hearts and red balloons<br />
My looming along the spine, Fermosa rooms, mahjong spun, call the rhyme,<br />
clack the crack in the tea cup-Teetering,<br />
an old man cries in the teastained sea room and his daughter balks, a thumb nail<br />
falls away bruised and blue as her shorn eyebrows in the slanted morning light,<br />
and between them ink up like elderly syllables,<br />
lotus-soaked and innervated, the calculus of a wobbly talk, touch this:<br />
kite, cart, bone-glass and the sea still sentient and seen.<br />
Listen loved ones, are you still, still running wild and assured, still picking up<br />
the pebbles in your pockets, still gambling the ghost bones on the tables, still<br />
drinking up gone gaps, still taping up the broken parts, still a part apart from all<br />
this?<br />
the darkness rhymed with ringing:<br />
bead against wrist, tooth against tongue<br />
and the boom of your heart click, swaying.<br />
Alas, it could be you.<br />
To find purchase in the weight of bargained arms pitched into a clever, seasonal<br />
shopping, a moment shirtless and electric from that gift that marked your<br />
walking, invisibly.<br />
To find purchase in the weight of free arms because you gifted them with wonder
Greenwood<br />
Kai Chan<br />
Drawing, ink, graphite, pastel on paper
Caffeine Reveries<br />
Shelley Savor<br />
Mid-summer By The Lake
Travelling Palm<br />
Snapshots<br />
Tamara Chatterjee<br />
Madagascar (March, 2010) – After several<br />
days loitering around, readjusting our<br />
itinerary due to disruptive climate change<br />
and the nasty effects of a cyclone. We made<br />
our way to the Thursday Zebus Market;<br />
attempting to acclimate to the joys of bovine<br />
chatter and barter with friendly farmers and<br />
even the local veterinarian.
Poem a Week<br />
Gary Michael Dault<br />
In case my handwritten amendments to the poem are<br />
difficult to decipher, the last four lines of the poem read:<br />
“she lives in hardening / unfading light / that entraps her/<br />
like meringue.”
CHEEZ<br />
Fiona Smyth
Yesterday Hong Kong<br />
Yau Leung<br />
Tramway (Hennessy Road, Wan Chai 1963)<br />
8x10 inch, gelatin silver photograph printed in the nineties<br />
OP Selection, edition 1/100, signed on verso<br />
From the collection of Lee Ka-sing and Holly Lee
ART LOGBOOK<br />
Holly Lee<br />
1. Giant metal insect suddenly appears in vacant lot in Vancouver<br />
https://bc.ctvnews.ca/giant-metal-insect-suddenly-appears-in-vacant-lot-in-vancouver-1.5998671<br />
2. Bliss: Yuval Sharon’s recreation of Ragnar Kjartansson’s performance piece based on Mozart’s<br />
Marriage of Figaro<br />
https://www.yuvalsharon.com/#/bliss/
The Photograph<br />
coordinated by<br />
Kamelia Pezeshki<br />
Farm life series, Harvesting Gladiolus by David Hunsberger
DOUBLESPREAD from<br />
Double Double studio,<br />
photographs by<br />
Lee Ka-sing<br />
Support and Become a Patreon member of<br />
Double Double studio<br />
https://www.patreon.com/doubledoublestudio<br />
Unlimited access to all read-on-line books,<br />
patrons only contents. Collecting artworks at<br />
discounts.<br />
Patreon Membership: Friend of Double Double ($5), Benefactor Member ($10), Print Collector ($100) Monthly subscription in US currency
An excerpt from<br />
Windmills, Fields,<br />
and Marina<br />
(Double Double,<br />
July edition <strong>2022</strong>)<br />
Wu Wing Yee<br />
my daily life in<br />
New York<br />
metaphysical &<br />
the physical<br />
(2016-2021)
dots<br />
2019, glazed porcelain on wall, dimensions variable
Dwelling<br />
2018, glazed porcelain. L15” x W19” x H16”
Stand 1<br />
2021, glazed porcelain, L4” x W3.5” x H7”
triangle<br />
2021, glazed stoneware, L9.75” x W5.5” x H17.75”
Stand II<br />
2021, glazed porcelain, L7” x 43.5” x H5”
dices<br />
2021, glazed porcelain, L7” x 43.5” x H5”
circles<br />
2021, glazed stoneware, L14” x W7” x H7”
weaving<br />
2019, glazed porcelain, dimensions variable
drips<br />
2021, glazed porcelain, L5.5” x W5.5” x H1.2”
owls and squares<br />
2021, glazed porcelain in wooden frame, L5” x W5” x H20” (each)
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