r & sie





psychotic, by the fantastic r & sie, more here.

who knows, maybe we'll live in one of those one day. or at least make movies of us living in one of those.

on a rooftop in causeway bay, watching clouds passby, there's only one star out, and it looks like the last cornflake in a bowl of milk, my throat is a little worn from some cigarettes, and i tap my ashes into a san miguel beer bottle lying next to me, my friend is taking some pictures, and she says that they look sort of wong kar wai. someone else asks a question about things we regret not doing, and i don't feel like answering, i got my arm under my neck and i'm just lying around, looking up, watching the sky move, and my mind's not here, of course, it's somewhere else, in another city, another place, another time, i'm not so sure.

i think about different places - berkeley, san francisco, los angeles, shanghai, hong kong - and can feel all sorts of streets, neighborhoods, cities, build and unbuild inside my skull in the span of seconds. i've wondered into many places this past year, a lot by accident, and this summer... i can't even imagine... and after that... after that, who knows.

when will i see you again, i wonder?

angelina gualdoni






some wonderful kaleidoscopes of a cityscape, these paintings are simultaneously scary and wonderful, like los angeles parking lots at midnight, or patches of grass underneath freeway overpasses in shanghai, like those long walks from oakland all the way back to downtown berkeley, or like hong kong, wanchai, 3 am, dusty alleyways and closed antique shops, cats meowing by a temple, and the only thing open is 7-11.

ahh yeah.

just talked to andinh on the phone, who was chatting with lili on the internet at the same time, and i was telling him that i feel like we're back in berkeley, at andinh's old apartment, and we're all eating mackarel and tomato sauce out of a can, chilling on a couch that stretches from hong kong to california, with new york in the middle, and i guess the atlantic ocean is a coke stain, and we're watching a television shaped like the sky, and maybe these clouds are a godard film, the one with the coffee shop, with the small time thieves dancing...

bye shanghai






shanghai and i, not exactly love at first sight. first few hours in town and i borrowed a bicycle and went as far south as i could, passed some freeways and stumbled onto a crumbling neighborhood - buildings blown wide-open, some of them had no solid walls, just laundry lines and some corners. there was a line of fruit stands, and i strolled through, bought a watermelon, and watched kids smoke cigarettes. some dude was chilling on a hammock in the middle of some rubble, and he looked cozy. in the background, there were ugly residential skyscrapers, all standing their with the same blank faces, making their way throughout the city.

more soon...

The man with the mustache reveals the three aces
Briefcases open to expose sheet music
The thief hears the piece performed and weeps to it
Master violinist plays the solo one handed
The notes on the page become ants that run frantic
Slowly the symphony dissolves into noise
The phantom with the glass eye sweats and loses poise
A scene is made, the cheese brigade is summoned
The man in the mask walks fast and starts running
An officer fires a pistol in black apparel
But instead of lead, records grow from out the barrel
The criminal escapes through a disappearing door marked beauty
Exiting the world forevermore

- edan