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<strong>MONDAY</strong><br />
<strong>ARTPOST</strong><br />
<strong>1003</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 / Ngan Chun-tung / Shelley<br />
Savor / Tamara Chatterjee / Wilson<br />
Tsang / + The Second-read and other<br />
Negotiation Matters (Lee Ka-sing)<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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Horace Mann
Greenwood<br />
Kai Chan<br />
Drawing.<br />
watercolour, pastel on paper
ART LOGBOOK<br />
Holly Lee<br />
1. The Bentway and Exhibition Place present Confluence, an immersive artwork by Striped Canary<br />
https://the-bentway.prezly.com/concrete-meets-current<br />
2. Thomas Demand to Build a House of Card at MOCA Toronto<br />
https://ocula.com/magazine/art-news/thomas-demand-to-build-house-of-card-at-moca/
Poem a Week<br />
Gary Michael Dault<br />
The Corked Bottle<br />
You can’t see<br />
until it’s late<br />
in the game<br />
that the self<br />
is like liquid<br />
in a corked<br />
bottle<br />
thrown<br />
into the sea<br />
where mere<br />
distance<br />
feels like progress<br />
where what<br />
you really want<br />
after a hundred years<br />
of bobbing around<br />
the world<br />
is to break on the dock<br />
from which<br />
you were thrown<br />
into the water<br />
in the first place
Caffeine Reveries<br />
Shelley Savor<br />
Magic Whispers
Mushrooms and Clouds (but<br />
no Mushroom Clouds)<br />
Paperback Edition<br />
56 pages, 8”x10”, perfect bound.<br />
Published by OCEAN POUNDS.<br />
Order paperback edition at BLURB (CAN$35):<br />
https://www.blurb.ca/b/11270926-mushrooms-and-clouds-but-no-mushroom-clouds<br />
ebook (US$5.00), pdf download. Bonus: access code for read-on-line edition<br />
https://oceanpounds.com/products/mushrooms-and-clouds-but-no-mushroom-clouds<br />
This book was published on the occasion of the exhibition Mushrooms and<br />
Clouds (but no Mushroom Clouds), held at 50 Gladstone Avenue artsalon in<br />
Toronto, October 1-29, <strong>2022</strong>.
Open/Endedness<br />
bq 不 清<br />
奔 跑 中 的 馬<br />
THE HORSE IN MOTION<br />
又 來 了 ! 在 這 個 燦 爛 無 雲 的 早 上<br />
濃 密 的 空 氣 充 塞 著 鳥 叫 、 濕 氣<br />
與 糞 肥 。 你 開 車 好 讓<br />
思 緒 遠 離 它 們 , 一 首 首 練 習 曲 在<br />
播 放 , 但 你 始 終 無 法 區 分<br />
蕭 邦 與 李 斯 特 , 儘 管 這 絕 對 是<br />
微 不 足 道 的 。 與 此 同 時 五 金 店 外 邊<br />
那 些 工 匠 又 贏 一 仗<br />
他 們 的 紙 牌 三 公 把 戲 再 一 次 上 演 而<br />
正 如 之 前 所 預 料 , 小 丑 永 是<br />
找 不 到 。 太 陽 已 經 邀 請 了<br />
影 子 到 這 裡 低 調 地 挪 動<br />
於 人 造 的 景 色 與<br />
我 們 城 市 寬 容 的 輪 廓 線<br />
我 們 都 是 由 多 於 一 個 概 念 所 組 成 的<br />
形 象 , 就 像 來 自 神 話 實 驗 室 的 珀 伽 索 斯 和<br />
山 杜 爾 , 祂 們 也 就 是 那 時 代 的 傳 真 機 吧<br />
Here we go again! In this gorgeous cloudless morning.<br />
The dense air is clogged with chirps, moisture<br />
And manure. You drive your car just to keep<br />
Your mind away from them, with études playing in<br />
The background, but you can’t tell the difference between<br />
Chopin and Liszt, though It’s absolutely<br />
Alright. Meanwhile outside the hardware store<br />
The craft people are still winning the battle.<br />
Their three-card monte tricks are presented again and<br />
Again, and as predicted previously, there’s no joker<br />
To be found. The sun has invited<br />
Shadows to lay low here and shift<br />
Along the manufactured landscape and<br />
Forgiving contours of our cities.<br />
We are all images of more than one<br />
Concept like Pegasus and Centaur from the mythology<br />
Laboratory, fax machines of their time.
TANGENTS<br />
Wilson Tsang<br />
mixed tales (part 2)
ProTesT<br />
Cem Turgay
Travelling Palm<br />
Snapshots<br />
Tamara Chatterjee<br />
India (May, 2017) – Turns out when you<br />
roam around in a befuddled state, amid a<br />
vast array of horticulture with your camera<br />
in hand, it means you are open for business.<br />
While distracted from my original intention,<br />
I ended up with a line-up of flower vendors<br />
wanting portraits. A little jasmine here, a<br />
few lotus buds over there, marigolds hanging<br />
out just about everywhere. Miraculously, we<br />
left with our delightful haul of blooms and a<br />
bounty of memorable clicks.
Yesterday Hong Kong<br />
Ngan Chun Tung<br />
Woman painter (1962)<br />
8x10 inch, gelatin siver photograph printed in the nineties<br />
Edition 7/100, signed and titled on verso<br />
From the collection of Lee Ka-sing and Holly Lee
The Photograph<br />
coordinated by<br />
Kamelia Pezeshki<br />
Flamma by Rob Kinghorn
Leaving Taichung<br />
Station<br />
Bob Black<br />
19 Fragments of Youth, Athirst<br />
“Have you feared the future would be nothing to you?”--Whitman<br />
III: 1988<br />
The year I drew my first word from deep inside, my family stood still<br />
as a pitch and sonorous swallow hooved forth: equine.<br />
How could they not know my freedom would come in the shape of a word: steed.<br />
Should they have known?<br />
but still they were confused by the punctuated bursts,<br />
a syntax of observations or a possibly running away<br />
(later, I remind them):<br />
I could not be torn from the horses in the field<br />
and their story-shifting clops and blossoming turns.<br />
“I am made of them, then,” even if,<br />
I could not stand upright fully, I crawled toward<br />
the fit and size of that language<br />
syllable and sound first, before my bones scaled to strides,<br />
as an infant, I grew horse describing all that without a sizable base and language.<br />
Was all this the summit and clap of dream?<br />
Now, can you see, at two I learned a first desultory lesson: fictive freedom<br />
more gene then gumption, even if I could not cough up its spelling and rhyme,<br />
my life shaped into the lines and pauses of a word in the shape of a beast, softening.<br />
“Tell me, from where things come?”<br />
Answerless,<br />
my heart was shaped by distant outer-sized things<br />
instead of the laborious tedium of time and so many men, yet I was two.<br />
And from that moment, though the words did not yet conjugate,<br />
my body made sense of sounded thought and together the world’s joinery unleashed<br />
and I doubled in year and yelp.<br />
Doubled.
IV: 1989<br />
One month before my third birthday, the eel returned<br />
and my grandmother leapt skyward as a cricket in heat.<br />
and at that moment a world away,<br />
synchronous,<br />
my father taught me a first lesson in chemistry and burning:<br />
how to set flame to a map and language and remembering.<br />
While my grandmother re-arranged herself, my fist father became a teacher of broken alchemy.<br />
He groomed me and turned the black sky vermilion and incandescent and alive,<br />
and I burned.<br />
An act of defied waking and guidance:<br />
he lead me to a small hill behind our home and recited the truth of geography:<br />
light lit in the groove of pliable things,<br />
pinched an old map of the heavens, constellations shaped into the bodies of his worn hands,<br />
calligraphy of sexton hearts<br />
both hands crampons in altitude and paper word-strewn, characters that built our small house in a<br />
small town<br />
and which, like the stories my grandmother told, looked like broken winter trees<br />
my wakeful hope damp socks and<br />
he looked then and I looked then and he then said:<br />
“Sin, you will see how stars were meant to look when lit” and he struck the match:<br />
and I sped and spread fathoms deep.<br />
And once again, a shallow sky swallowed up the old map and my father’s lantern and all I had<br />
doubted<br />
and all I had glued together, memory<br />
which he quickly crumpled up and we both, wing to claw, forgot<br />
as if those unseen stones in the reedy river behind our house,<br />
everything, everything or something particular, un upturned but.<br />
even that which I did not then know but would ask about much later--<br />
absence as presence<br />
a map set fire and expanding brightly even as it fell apart, drop by black drop<br />
and the drops of held pitch sealed my heart and hips, once spread cracking,<br />
drop by begrimed drop,<br />
dollop dip done.<br />
its gift and its embargo and its meaning<br />
as we march on the years under cover of eureka and euphemis<br />
Beyond his outstretched arm, a copper lantern made of old paper and tears<br />
and thumbprints carried from Hong Kong language and luggage and hope<br />
become a burning kite of spark and wonder and names:<br />
Orion, Cassiopeia, Andromeda, Ursa Minor, Carina, Pyxis, Lupus, Lyra, and my birth sign: Taurus.<br />
And as the map crackled like my grandfather’s rocking chair and my collar an old branch,<br />
I saw the names scatter against the blue-dark sky and become characters from the old country:<br />
心 (Xīn), 尾 (Wěi), 危 (Wēi), 鬼 (Guǐ), 張 (Zhāng), 翼 (Yì), 水 委 (Shui Wei)<br />
and my birthmark: 馬 尾 (Ma Wei, horse’s tail).<br />
And I followed the flame and listened to the sparkled words wing incandescent<br />
at that moment, I felt the bones in my throat loosen<br />
and my life unroped and my understanding unshirted and my body became borderless and words<br />
nomadic.
CHEEZ<br />
Fiona Smyth
From the Notebooks<br />
(2010-<strong>2022</strong>)<br />
Gary Michael Dault<br />
From the Notebooks, 2010-<strong>2022</strong><br />
Number 157: One Golden Apple of the Hesperides (Thursday September 29, <strong>2022</strong>)
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An excerpt from DOUBLE DOUBLE August edition, <strong>2022</strong><br />
The Book. The Reader. The Keeper<br />
Lee Ka-sing<br />
The Second-read<br />
and other<br />
Negotiation Matters.<br />
Photographs<br />
(2009-2020)
世 界 盡 頭 與 冷 酷 仙 境 ( 村 上 春 樹 ) 林 少 華 譯<br />
上 海 譯 文 出 版 社<br />
2007
三 魚 集 ( 也 斯 )<br />
田 園 書 屋<br />
1988<br />
(The cover of this book was designed by Lee Ka-sing)
Sigmar Polke<br />
San Francisco Museum of Modern Art<br />
1991
Marcel Duchamp (Gloria Moure)<br />
Thames And Hudson<br />
1988
Presents (Hibino Katsuhiko)<br />
Genko-Sha Publishing<br />
1984
Looking At Photographs (Gordon Baldwin)<br />
Getty Museum<br />
1991
Flowers (Irving Penn)<br />
Harmony Books<br />
1980
詩 人 導 演 - 費 穆 ( 黃 愛 玲 編 )<br />
香 港 電 影 評 論 學 會<br />
1998
藝 林 散 葉 ( 鄭 逸 梅 )<br />
中 華 書 局<br />
1982
Tokyo Comedy (Nobuyoshi Araki)<br />
Kon Hiroko<br />
1998
Frank O’Hara Selected Poems (Ed. Mark Ford)<br />
Alfred A. Knopf<br />
2008
Bibliotheca: Views of the Books (Ushioda Tokuko)<br />
Usimaoda<br />
2017
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