Starting with wax on my hand

2015

 

I spilled wax on my right hand when I was trying to move the candle. I didn’t know until I looked at my fingers under the candlelight, a thin coat of white wax. I’m not used to liquid transforms into solid at this speed. It had such a good potential to burn me in its hot liquid form, but the solidification made it harmless, unnoticeable. A coward. If I could I would jump up on my feet and yell “coward!” at you, always wanted to do that to someone important, so I can feel like a hero, the wise one that will jump out at the right moment to awaken her friend. Don’t give me the “This is serious so I want to do it right” face, we are all the same so I know what you are thinking what you are doing. A coward can’t fool another coward. Cowardness is not intelligence related. I can get infinitely close to a flame horizontally, and candles always surprise me when I try to approach them from above. Burning hot air. The best detectives are the best criminals, now I wonder what I should be in order to be the best artist. Maybe master the art of foolishness. After all it’s the ordinary morons that’s going to buy my art with their big fat wallets. Anyone can draw a candle I suppose, so what’s good about my candle? Even though at the time I was drawing it I wondered, is it atmospheric or just plain cheesy to do so? Technology ruins everything. If I’m gonna dig out my gut and spill my blood, I’d rather do it in front of a candle. Why do I love the sound of pencil writing on paper so much. I love to smell the smell of wood when I’m writing with a pencil. Whatever I make I see it in a big white gallery, being examined by people in suits and spectacles. But if it’s all about egotism and self-exhibitionism then shy should I care if what I’m doing is good enough to be presented to people? Audience should just applause and worship whatever that been presented to them, be audience and audience only. If my drawings rely on textured paper, I know they do, then it’s disastrous, it would be like the wall artist, nobody without the magnificent glue. I can’t stop thinking about the wall artist. Do I want to be the wall artist? I think I might know just the way. It’s a disease to keep having ideas but never do them, my humble slave my body isn’t fast enough to corporate my ideas. My thoughts are fast and immediate and if they were to be physicalized, they should be done so in an instance. I guess I will just rely on technology on this one then. Please don’t fail me. More is always better by default. Maybe I can be a great candle wax sculptor. If I’m not patient enough I can’t do anything. Time might as well stop or fast forward. On another level of reality I know I can jump into any frame of my already finished life. I was never able to resist the temptation of peeking the ending. Why not if sooner or later I am going to know it anyways? It feels really literary to end a sentence with a question mark. Or to end a statement with a full stop. We say light and shadow but really it’s darker light and lighter light. Sometimes it makes me claustrophobic to think about wearing earphones, listening to music and seal myself in a tiny private world. But sometimes music is too loud to even think about. It might become famous and float online everywhere with a picture of a person thoughtfully looking into the sky as a background if I add another sentence in front: sometimes the world is too loud so we need music in earphones to create our own little universe, in the tiny distance between our ears. But sometimes music is too loud to even think about. We should play a game called “add another sentence so it can be cheesy and seemingly “wise” (smart? Intelligent?)(This whole “thoughts in brackets” thing s making me feel pretentious and sick. I know I am literary when I do things like this, which is why I am so fucking consciously pretentious)(Thanks to the audience for their foolish appreciations. It’s all a game and I’m winning it)(Why don’t I write everything in brackets.)(A full stop seems more literary)(Pardon my lack of vocabulary here. Maybe literary isn’t the precise word I was looking for.)(I love the word “precise”.). Why don’t you stop handling things? Out of context that sentence still seems literary. The magnificent literacy. Three random things don’t form a pair. If you don’t have a cat you don’t have a cat.

I’d like to see if one of the wax rock’s shadow’s reversed, what would I say, In English or in Chinese? In English or in French. That should be in a modern poem. I am writing a long modern poem. Perm.