No.39 "spider came along" by Rin (12/15/2007) |
Dear George,
It’s raining in San Diego today.
I am sitting here listening the sound pf raindrops, thinking of a discreet fact that those each
raindrops has it’s own path from somewhere.
I just came back from Tempe art festival. I had a great fun. The first day, it rained heavily after 6
months of dryness in Tempe. I had to change whole display to protect paintings from rain. The
second day,
The rain was accompanied with stormy wind. My paintings wanted to fly away from the booth. I was
so busy to watch them over.
Finally the third day, sun came out and so as people. Everyone was so ready to join the festival. It
turned to be a joyful day.
I always love to be in the festivals since I was a child. Don’t you think some kind of sacred energy is
generated at any place where people gather with expectation? It takes me to a nostalgic feeling of
loneliness in a crowd. I feel so right to be in a crowd as nobody. Listening to the sound of
happenings is my favorite time.
*I wrote this December 5th.
Today is December 15th.
I am taking too long to complete this time response. You must be wondering why. I have been
writing to you, but what I wrote did not match with what I want to tell. I decided whatever I write
today, I will post it tomorrow.
What have I been thinking about?
As you say, the thoughts are just passing by before I grasp.
Once you said that people might not understand what we are talking about. I understand what you
meant it. For some people, our conversation may sound so unreal.
Then, what is reality?
Do we really know what reality is? Are the things cannot be proved physically not real? Do those
physical phenomenons really exist anyway?
Do “I” really exist?
My body, my heart, my brain, my thoughts, my words, my painting… I am losing a confidence of
what I call it's mine. If “nothing remains the same” is an undeniable fact, we do not possess
anything after all, don't we? For example, I wonder if there is a line for when my excretions become
'not mine'?
...Endless questions.
Without answer, life continues,...always.
I'd better stop writing now. I apologize for this confusing letter.
This time response is
“Spider came along”
I also made a sketch of the image I saw long time ago (I don't remember the details but it was like
this). I think it might explain what I am going through these days.
Love and Peace,
Rin
It’s raining in San Diego today.
I am sitting here listening the sound pf raindrops, thinking of a discreet fact that those each
raindrops has it’s own path from somewhere.
I just came back from Tempe art festival. I had a great fun. The first day, it rained heavily after 6
months of dryness in Tempe. I had to change whole display to protect paintings from rain. The
second day,
The rain was accompanied with stormy wind. My paintings wanted to fly away from the booth. I was
so busy to watch them over.
Finally the third day, sun came out and so as people. Everyone was so ready to join the festival. It
turned to be a joyful day.
I always love to be in the festivals since I was a child. Don’t you think some kind of sacred energy is
generated at any place where people gather with expectation? It takes me to a nostalgic feeling of
loneliness in a crowd. I feel so right to be in a crowd as nobody. Listening to the sound of
happenings is my favorite time.
*I wrote this December 5th.
Today is December 15th.
I am taking too long to complete this time response. You must be wondering why. I have been
writing to you, but what I wrote did not match with what I want to tell. I decided whatever I write
today, I will post it tomorrow.
What have I been thinking about?
As you say, the thoughts are just passing by before I grasp.
Once you said that people might not understand what we are talking about. I understand what you
meant it. For some people, our conversation may sound so unreal.
Then, what is reality?
Do we really know what reality is? Are the things cannot be proved physically not real? Do those
physical phenomenons really exist anyway?
Do “I” really exist?
My body, my heart, my brain, my thoughts, my words, my painting… I am losing a confidence of
what I call it's mine. If “nothing remains the same” is an undeniable fact, we do not possess
anything after all, don't we? For example, I wonder if there is a line for when my excretions become
'not mine'?
...Endless questions.
Without answer, life continues,...always.
I'd better stop writing now. I apologize for this confusing letter.
This time response is
“Spider came along”
I also made a sketch of the image I saw long time ago (I don't remember the details but it was like
this). I think it might explain what I am going through these days.
Love and Peace,
Rin