sin_blog

“Cathy, you like art. Why are you in a science class? Are you going to be an artistic scientist?”

“A scientific artist.”

The whole class laughed and clapped. Despite the humour, there was a seriousness to what I said. I never found entering the science stream (either arts or science for my high school) and my interest in art contradictory. I did not find it necessary to study art in school either. Science and art just go hand in hand in my life. Logic and aesthetics, to be exact. The two can never be and should never be separated, in my life or in this world. But people always find it strange for subjects that I take, and what I like to be.

And the story continues. Between Fine Art and Design I chose the latter for my Bachelor’s degree. Again, they don’t get it. I understand the relationship between science and art may be subtle to realize, but art and design, are they that different to puzzle you? Alright…there’s a difference, or else I won’t choose one rather than the other. $Practicality$ could be one reason. I also thought design mentalities would be a suitable injection to my artistic ones. Naturally enough to me, I went through university life with design studies.

Nothing is enough. For yet another time I’ve misplaced myself in others’ eyes. Currently I’m taking a curatorial programme. I can find nothing more logical to learn more about the art field, also because I had the chance to this course. As said by my friend, life is random, yes. I tend to take randomness. I’m young but not very young anymore. What if I don’t try now, and it’s just one year anyway.

Then you may ask, if I were to know more about the art field, I could have studied Fine Art in the first place. Why make another option only now? Maybe I really detour, doing art without ever touching the art field. Yet by moving along the spiral, I guess I can hit the centre a little bit more precisely. Maybe not as accurate as the golden spiral, but I will be there one day.

There are people who are not comfortable when you use a knife to kill people. Not because anybody’s harmed. They won’t feel good even if you use it for cutting hair. They want apple knives for cutting apples, fish knives for fish, frog knives for frogs, if there are such knives. Not only designers get angry because people come up with creative methods of using their products. Everybody else comes to condemn you for playing ping pong with iPone (there may be a lot of virtual-real applications, but I mean real hitting here).

I can decide what to learn and how to use what I’ve learnt. The knowledge is mine.

If you think it is absurd for a painting to be sold at billions, it should be equally — more — absurd, that the artist may not be able to get this sum, and that most other artists are barely having any payment at all.

All children are philosophers.
All children are artists.

The society kills children. Those who survive remain artists and philosophers.

As my usual obsessive compulsive practice on the World Wide Web I opened Twitter accounts. Not one, not two, but three. One for completing updates in the super feed. The second for my own randomness, the common Twitter use. Another for Jimmy — he’s independent of me now.

At first I acted just like all of my friends who don’t care about joining Twitter. I thought it is silly to jot down every mundane thing that we do, but it turns out to be an interesting activity of recording daily life. I couldn’t deny its importance as I saw more people using and more discussions on its success. Not only personal Facebook-status-like entries are there, but also very useful information such as official (or unofficial) highlights of newspapers and organizations. Some users provide lines of thoughts and wisdom. It’s not only for the nosy, but also the intellectual and intelligent. Celebrities and politicians use it, meaning it is the right medium for focus of interest. It’s amazing what 140 characters (maximum of each post) can do. There are other micro-blogging sites, but with its sweet and simple interface, you simply have to follow Twitter.