Applied Tools/ Thinking

I bought a planner and a journal after the first class. Frankly, I haven't written any journals since after middle school; and never have I tried a planner before. I thought the planner wouldn't make much difference than planning the dates (deadlines in particular) in my head given that I believe I have a pretty good memory. But it did make a difference, unexpectedly. For me, it is not only about sorting out schedules or making full use of my time, but the sense of fulfillment that even when things hit the rock bottom, I knew that I didn't just watch the days pass by and sit around doing nothing. My problem is that constantly I would be trapped in the feeling of self-worthlessness and all other kinds of negative thoughts. At least the planner is always there, telling me what I have done and there is something to look forward to soon. For that I am grateful. Similarly with the planner, the journal simply provides me with a safe space to vent my feelings. I am troubled with controlling my own emotions on a daily basis, and the journal constitutes another channel of confronting with my inner self besides going to therapy. 

Another thought I've learned from the reading Steal Like An Artist is the importance of respecting my own hobbies and interests. My perspective on the things that really intrigue me was somehow twisted: I felt they weren't worthy enough to be treated as a serious side project or "hobby". As if I thought if there were a rule of elimination of people's hobbies, mine would be among the very first out: rooftopping, traveling, and other cliché art nerd stuff. One quote in this book enlightened me nevertheless: "The work you do while you procrastinate is probably the work you should be doing for the rest of your life." (Jessica Hische) Although it's highly unlikely I would be traveling around the world or trespassing on different rooftops for the rest of my life, I realized the point of clinging to my hobbies. For the truth is as one grows old, our passion towards the novelty, the fun, and the life would inevitably decline little by little. So it makes no sense why I should despise or deny myself of the passion while it lasts. 

• Christian Marclay

Christian Marclay's exploration in audio art excites me in the way that he remixed old objects to create new music. Marclay's obsession with vinyls redefined the vinyl not only as a material output, but also a physical form of art of its own. By vandalizing something seemingly outdated, Marclay once strapped a revolving turntable to his chest, as if it were a guitar. His fusion of the fine art and sound exhibits the remixed version of creativity in the remixed age. 

One of the most inspiring findings I learned about Christian Marclay is that he and I both believe in the artful transitions in films. When he was creating the The Clock, a 24-hour montage of thousands of film and television clips with glimpses of clocks, watches, and snatches of people saying what time it is, the most laborious work he did was to edit the creative and/or odd transitions among footages, intentionally rupturing the chronological coherence. The montage compilation made the audience question once again the essence of time, the connection between the past and the present, and even the existential reality.

Using more than 2,000 retro cassettes, Marclay's installation of the Moebius Loop appeals to the nostalgia of the old times. What I like about the art piece is Marclay's remixed interpretation of bringing to lifeless physical objects a powerful visual possibility. In another light, the continuous loop reminds me of the texture of time, tender and recurring, so tangible for one moment yet invisible for the next.