At the edge of Immanence

Written by on in Statements

“At the edge of Immanence”

Imageries of the unformed,
Tiptoeing around histories,
Hushing so that they remain closed.
At the edge of it,
hearing the murmurings of the world unthought ever before,
The world we lost in museums.

The night of imageries, in dreams, in the flash of a morning,
The unformed shall survive throughout the day,
In the studio,
Waving off the world outside,
Defined, named, willed,
Fear slips in,
greed settles,
language roars back,
Desire contaminated.

“Oh No”
Unroll the sheen of immanence,
At the edge of it,
The unformed shall survive,
In the form being formed,
In the giggles of models,
The tickle of sensations heightened to its peak,
The form speaks,
And  the nameless “I” stretch the aching back,
“Ouch, My back”

“Dinner is ready”
Potatoes, cucumbers Taziang,
And white rice.

In Beijing Studio, 2010

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