Day 01: Tuesday 5 December 2006
I fly to my father's house in England and stop overnight in Incheon, South Korea. Naim June Paik's Neon Cromagnon Man greets me in the lobby of a **** hotel. Translated into English, the signage reads:
Robot with plastic TV cabinets ... exposing his thoughts a Mr Paik configured Cromagnon man's special features to various shapes of neon such as telephone, letter, binary code, palette, ancient hieroglyphic characters and phonograph record.
Green tea pots and other thrown, painted and printed items reflect from every mirrored wall: an infinity of splendour. The huge bed is wider than my length. Money here is made from cars and electronic goods.
Day 02: Wednesday 6 December 2006
A waking dream shapes three words as a list. The first begins with 's', and I recall 'Symposium'. A shuttle bus takes me to the aeroplane.
The Gobi Desert, Mongolian Plateau and Russian Steppes are Lunar landscapes stretching endlessly below. Geometric forms of human presence, etched in ice, sand and rock, fade into darkness and the full moon glides in.
Emerging from the London Underground into a cold, dark, windy littered street, I imagine Dickens knows the old pub on the corner. Its cozy windows glow through grey. 'Tensions and contradictions shape spaces,' (Esther Leslie, Hollywood Flatlands, 2002; 77). Just for a moment, past and present collide as a corner of London is shaped by the contradictions between my early Dickens readings and this present reality. Between the cozy inside of the London pub and the inhospitable street outside there is further tension. There are still beggars.
Day 03: Thursday 7 December 2006
The moon begins to wane through conservatory glass. Life here moves slowly, yet by 15:30hrs the sun, barely risen, already starts to set. I walk along the Upper Street through Christmas lights as children walk home from school.
Day 04: Friday 8 December 2006
Seeking free time and space within my parent's house reminds me of my childhood.
Day 05: Saturday 9 December 2006
Autumn colours linger unseasonably. Stone walls sunbake and vine leaves warm.
Over windy-littered cracking pavements I run, towards a Paolozzi sculpture drawing circles, and the British Library. Reading, reading, reading, I read scientific Abstracts that sparkle with clarity.
Day 06: Sunday 10 December 2006
A moving 'star' traverses the black morning sky: a plane leaving Heathrow airport. Pink clouds appear, and pale blue sky. Over the years my father lost his acuracy in forming words. His language was asured and economic. Is there 'plain drawing' in the sense that there is 'plain English'?
Day 07: Monday 11 December 2006
Catcalls screech through windy wattle bowers. A window frames my house of childhood down the road. Past and present, conscious and unconscious worlds impose. Grapes on the breakfast table are eaten one by one. How will I measure my two months here?