sitting up!
singapore general hospital, orthopaedics ward. 15 nov 2016.

sitting up!
singapore general hospital, orthopaedics ward. 15 nov 2016.
researchers in china have found that by feeding carbon nanotubes to silkworms, the worms’ bodies would process and reintegrate their feed into silk that is conductive, has increased tensile strength, and (other sorts of industrially-applicable properties which, not having read the papers, i cannot report here.) coming after reeling for the empire, that was pleasurably uncanny. s had thought i would like that story best, and i did — in more ways perhaps that he’d probably imagined: i have several good friends who are historians of east asian science and technology –those are the very things they are knowledgeable about, write on: japanese modernisation and early industrialisation and the uneasy relationship with western science and technology, and the history of labour (female labour particularly) and of course in the japanese textile industry, and the rhetoric of nation building (which I know well as a singaporean too) — and those are pleasurable if faint echos of such interest i take (vicariously) in their work.but also because i’ve been thinking about factory farming (and lately have been talking to friends who are vegans or advocates for a cruelty-free lifestyle or teach food security and global food politics), and then of course there is the ethics of what i wear — for a long time i’ve felt defensive (or defensive that i have to be defensive) about my liking for and unwillingness to give up silk, and now the oblique attack — it’s not facile, but one tries to live right, however one can, avoiding the worst or most blatant forms of cruelty, but cheating in all the small ways, and consoling oneself it is better than nothing (which it is, but not by much).
the long rain had sodden the ground and thinned the crowd; groups of teenagers mostly, and families with young children (older folks had defected for the art galleries.) the film was royston tan’s homecoming (lacklustre, superficial, schoolboyish, disappointing: come now, how could anyone ruin an oral history documentary about pulau ubin, end up with something so banal?) i watch it with mild boredom, and check the time numerous times, and wish the watermelon popsicle i had got from the momolato foodtruck had lasted longer: pink and sweet and dense, and an icy slice of green kiwi packed in the centre. but the breeze was soft, and the national gallery was bathed in coloured lights, and i liked my city enormously.
light paintings on the facade of the national gallery, and open air cinema at the padang. 26 november 2016
in the riau islands, dec 2016.
volcanic symbiosis. when I see or read about people living this way — adapting their lives around their natural environment — because because i live on the equator, on an island that is seasonless and where the days are the same length, i have a rather static relationship with the natural world. i never develop a sense of its changes and its movements, its cycles and patterns. it’s there, i enter it from time to time — am awed, or revel in it, or endure it — and am extracted from it after a given time. W when I lived in the US I was beginning to have a sense of the movement — not pattern, because pattern requires more consciousness, repeated recognition of structure, movemnet, trasition, but always not quite aware, always delayed, always felt a few steps behind — trying to catch up with the outside world.so that by the time it took me to change my routine to function on a shortened day the day had shrunk even more, after enough borrowed sweaters I -