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Columns by Artists and Writers

Bob Black / bq / Cem Turgay /

Fiona Smyth / Gary Michael Dault

/ Holly Lee / Kai Chan / Kamelia

Pezeshki / Ngan Chun-tung /

Tamara Chatterjee / Wilson Tsang /

+ Sculpture works (Shelley Savor)

MONDAY ARTPOST published on Mondays. Columns by Artists and Writers. All Right Reserved. Published since 2002.

An Ocean and Pounds publication. ISSN 1918-6991. email to: mail@oceanpounds.com

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“Life is like a beautiful

melody, only the lyrics

are messed up.”





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Hans Christian Andersen

From the Notebooks


Gary Michael Dault

From the Notebooks, 2010-2022

Number 158: Spider Island (December 12, 2011)


Kai Chan


Watercolour and pastel on paper


bq 不 清

六 度 分 隔 理 論

莫 非 你 也 相 信

鬼 神 的 存 在

在 於 來 自 房 間 內 裡 的

一 陣 風 或

難 以 想 像 的 寧 靜 ?


Is it possible that you also believe in

The existence of ghosts and gods

For from deep inside a room comes

A breath of wind or

An unimaginable silence?

就 像 男 人 想 像

穿 裙 子 時 的 感 覺 又

或 者

一 扇 門

無 緣 無 故 地 打 開

It is like a man trying to imagine

The feeling of being in a dress or


It’s a door

Opens unexpectedly.

冬 天 和 春 天 之 間 並 沒 有

一 條 明 顯 的 界 線

正 如 兩 個 常 有 衝 突 的 國 家

卻 又 溫 柔 一 點 如

一 場 小 雪 中

There is no clear boundary

Between winter and spring

Like the one between two countries at odd

But a little gentler like

In a brief snowfall,

那 些 能 夠 止 渴 的 雪 花

來 臨 也 只 是 為 了

在 不 作 出 物 質 上 的

破 壞 下 迅 速 地

消 失 。 而 在 網 絡 上 爭 論

Flurries quench the thirst

And their being here is only

To disappear quickly

Without destroying anything

Tangible. And definitions resulted through

人 口 數 量 所 帶 來 的 定 義

多 彩 多 姿 如 一 百 顆

巧 克 力 : 九 十 五 顆 紅 色 的

兩 顆 紫 色 的 、 兩 顆

藍 色 的 , 只 有 一 顆 是 黃 色 的

Internet debates concerning population growth

Are as colourful as the hundred

Candies: ninety-five are red;

Two are purple; two are

Blue; only one is yellow.


Holly Lee

David Lee Hoffman’s sanctuary to showcase his ideas about the environment sustainability: the Shower

Tower, the Worm Palace, the Tea Cave, the Tea Pagoda and so many more.


(videos, three episodes, total 16 mins.)

Nuit Blanche 2022


(video 1:06)


Fiona Smyth


Wilson Tsang

The child (and his void)

Poem a Week

Gary Michael Dault


a hurricane’s

heavy disorder


a vast

ballooning figure

representing runaway force

against which

I proudly hold up

my small white horse

as if it were a sharp gale

blowing the opposite way

Note: the admitted oddness of this little poem

may be at least partly traceable to the fact

that it was entirely dreamed. Which doesn’t

happen very often to me. GMD

Travelling Palm


Tamara Chatterjee

“Uzbekistan (November, 2019) – After a

long day of roaming the last of the historical

sights we skirted around the maze of passages

surrounding the Bibi-Khanym mosque.

Taking turns trying to maneuver the dainty

narrows between motor vehicle and merchant

carts. With great excitement we found a

little restaurant with a perfect view within a

stonesthrow of the majestic mosaic domed

roofs. We watched the evening sky illuminate

with its descending blue hues, eating hearty

plov, as a final farewell to Samarkand.”

Yesterday Hong Kong

Ngan Chun Tung

Woman Ploughing (Yuen Long, 1958)

8x10 inch, gelatin siver photograph printed in the nineties

Edition 3/100, signed and titled on verso

From the collection of Lee Ka-sing and Holly Lee

The Photograph

coordinated by

Kamelia Pezeshki

Untitled by Kamelia Pezeshki

Leaving Taichung


Bob Black

19 Fragments of Youth, Athirst

“Have you feared the future would be nothing to you?”--Whitman

V: 1990

One month after my third birthday, the burning kite returned on the other side of the world:

history or luck, it is hard to say.

On the evening of June 29th, my grandmother sat on her red bucket, her hopes abloom,

as she sang a lullaby into a small red and blue envelope,

my name inked like web and tea-stain

onto the front of the 5-cent envelope in nervous, new letters

the shape of a calculus she had been diligently studying

as a way to fend off the inevitable,

for she’d learned as a child to write and to sing,

the way you raise incense before oranges and tarnished coins,

as an exercise in saving a life--gestural.

and poured her entirety into the pocket between gum and breath and paper.

She finished the final rhyme and breathed strange sounds into the flap,

as she sealed the triangle with a kiss of red candle wax

and whispered dreams stitched with incense and potassium and egg yolk.

Then, suddenly, light entered into her kitchen as a dropped spoon

and she turned and waited to make sense of the story unfolding before her

and paused, an accordion flapping love songs across the alleyway and of her:

And the fish appeared, like love or hail or premonition.

Just as in the year I was born, the eel again,

and it slipstreamed into her

life through the moldy kitchen and the fallow laundry drying:

dragon-light and eggplant hued,

and change burst upon the world and my grandmother waited to see where the eel would river to,


And circle it did, a few times in the corner until it spotted her red bucket, entwining itself

like wind around a tossed-aside styrofoam cup,

and along the shoulders of the bucket and she listened to its gasp

and she listened also to the frantic knocking of the neighbor’s threats and admonitions,

from whom it had escaped, in search of something more fundamental.

The water-bound seeks the dried riverbed for love.

VI: 1999

The year I learned that my heart was not easily taken, I tried to give it away

along the tunnel of a peeling street in Taichung.

A boy walked up to me and asked me for a kiss, I smiled and thought of the River Lu:

frozen in winter and shifting beneath.

I let him kiss me and let him taste the river inside me but he was only concerned with my tongue

and breasts and could not hear the story I was trying to tell him.

I let him take what he wished and in his greed and deafness he didn’t comprehend what I was

willing to give:

the story of my life, caught up in wind and of horses and light like cricket song.

The next morning, I walked out into the light and I was free.

And in that moment, my grandmother placed my letter on the table,--

between an eel appearing and a letter embarking what really is the choice,--

and reached down and embraced the fish as her own,

body to breath, guttural language to syllabic hope,

and held it against her body and the eel softened

and my grandmother closed her eyes

and wept.

They both knew:

the time had come,

when land and nation and certainty move and there is but soul choice

when one must be ready to depart.

death or reshaping or something simpler.

The this of the that and

the move through transformation out and in.

And we all,

eel and grandmother and family hope


and I have been ready ever since.


Cem Turgay

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Unlimited access OCEAN POUNDS

read-on-line publications

Shelley Savor

Sculpture works

Earth Suit

(3½” X 2¾” X 1”) Papier-Mâché, Fimo, Leaves, Gouache, Acrylic

Magic Embrace

(1½” X 4” X 4½”) Papier-Mâché, Fimo, Leaves, Gouache, Acrylic

Forest Growth

(1” X 1¼” X 5”) Papier-Mâché, Fimo, Leaves, Gouache, Acrylic

Forest of Funghi Dreams

(2½” X 1½” X 2½”) Papier-Mâché, Fimo, Leaves, Gouache, Acrylic

Cloud Guardian

(3” X 2” X 1”) Fimo, Leaf, Gouache, Acrylic

Branching Out

(5 ½” X 4 ¼” X 1¼”) Fimo, Leaves, Gouache, Acrylic


(1¾” X 3¾” X 2¼”) Papier-Mâché, Fimo, Leaves, Gouache, Acrylic

Mush Room

(1” X 1½” X 2”) Papier-Mâché, Fimo, Gouache, Acrylic

Forest Friend

(1¾” X 1½” X 1½”) Fimo, Gouache

Leaf Guardian

(2½” X 2” X 1¼”) Fimo, Leaves, Gouache

Mushrooms and Clouds (but

no Mushroom Clouds)

Paperback Edition

56 pages, 8”x10”, perfect bound.

Published by OCEAN POUNDS.

Order paperback edition at BLURB (CAN$35):


ebook (US$5.00), pdf download. Bonus: access code for read-on-line edition


This book was published on the occasion of the exhibition Mushrooms and

Clouds (but no Mushroom Clouds), held at 50 Gladstone Avenue artsalon in

Toronto, October 1-29, 2022.

Under the management of Ocean and Pounds

Since 2008, INDEXG B&B have served curators, artists,

art-admirers, collectors and professionals from different

cities visiting and working in Toronto.


48 Gladstone Avenue, Toronto




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