sloppyness
Finally, the rain has stopped. From the 17th floor I can see mountains surrounding the city. I have never seen them before. Mexico City is like that too.
Take a bus to Lido to withdraw money. Stop at the DVD store where I find some of my favorite movies for 10 RMB a piece. Opt for a cab back to Platform where the shoemaker and his wife are busy at work. Never in my life have I seen such a sloppy job. It is unbelievable. Rough stitches sometimes on the inside, sometimes on the outside, the tread is too tight and fastened in bizarre manners. The screen is stretched here and wrinkled there. I am speechless so I just start to adjust and point and gesticulate and somehow manage to improve the situation slightly. No precision, no skill, simple tools and a quick and dirty attitude are not very compatible with how I like to work. I don't know to laugh or cry. At least the finish is consequently bad. A real homemade, no-tech look that might be called charming. I shake my head and smile indignantly. My preliminary sketches for the tent were kind of like this, irregular and rough and attractive. When I later made precise and geometrical drawings and a model it kind of lost its soul, and I had already decided I did not want it to be too perfect and symmetrical. Well, I certainly don't have to worry about that: The tent is hovering 10 cm above ground, occasionally spinning, and all angles are wacky... I make some phone calls to find out how to ship my photographs to Norway. You need an export certificate and several customs forms and it turns out to be a very expensive task. The better solution would be to sell them here and make some money instead of spending. We'll see. I have dinner with Rain at 798, and we finally get to talk about art and things other than flooded bathrooms and sloppy work. She studied in London for three years and understands my frustration. We discuss different art systems and standards until two friends show up; an Italian artist/journalist and a Chinese friend of Rain. We debate political activism in Europe and how after 1989, young Chinese are not interested in politics, only in making money to improve their personal lives. The network is down at At Café, and I walk back to my high rise.
Take a bus to Lido to withdraw money. Stop at the DVD store where I find some of my favorite movies for 10 RMB a piece. Opt for a cab back to Platform where the shoemaker and his wife are busy at work. Never in my life have I seen such a sloppy job. It is unbelievable. Rough stitches sometimes on the inside, sometimes on the outside, the tread is too tight and fastened in bizarre manners. The screen is stretched here and wrinkled there. I am speechless so I just start to adjust and point and gesticulate and somehow manage to improve the situation slightly. No precision, no skill, simple tools and a quick and dirty attitude are not very compatible with how I like to work. I don't know to laugh or cry. At least the finish is consequently bad. A real homemade, no-tech look that might be called charming. I shake my head and smile indignantly. My preliminary sketches for the tent were kind of like this, irregular and rough and attractive. When I later made precise and geometrical drawings and a model it kind of lost its soul, and I had already decided I did not want it to be too perfect and symmetrical. Well, I certainly don't have to worry about that: The tent is hovering 10 cm above ground, occasionally spinning, and all angles are wacky... I make some phone calls to find out how to ship my photographs to Norway. You need an export certificate and several customs forms and it turns out to be a very expensive task. The better solution would be to sell them here and make some money instead of spending. We'll see. I have dinner with Rain at 798, and we finally get to talk about art and things other than flooded bathrooms and sloppy work. She studied in London for three years and understands my frustration. We discuss different art systems and standards until two friends show up; an Italian artist/journalist and a Chinese friend of Rain. We debate political activism in Europe and how after 1989, young Chinese are not interested in politics, only in making money to improve their personal lives. The network is down at At Café, and I walk back to my high rise.
» Post a Comment