22/1/2020, An Act of Deconstruction Session 5.

Back in the Geylang Library space, with a fresh new mindset and a new haircut.

Whilst I was scrolling through Facebook a few days ago, I came across a post that someone wrote, which I thought was really applicable to this project:

"how long does it take before a 'translation' becomes your own opinion"?

Injecting your own "interpretation"/"explanation" under the disguise of translation when it was virtually non-existent in the original text.

My eyes widened when I read this post, because it is exactly what the literary device of deconstruction is used for - taking it apart to find meanings that does not exist in the first place! As I linked the other aspects of my research with this new finding, I was connecting the dots in my own mind that made sense....

Because of this, I decided to focus on the 'Act of Slowness'. When society is moving faster than your memories can catch up, we risk historical amnesia. We have all experienced it. That moment when you walk past a place that was once a park, a carpark that you used to play football in, or a park that you once used to light lanterns and set leave on fire on Mid-Autumn Festival. But now, these places are taken over by another. It's exchanged, but somehow the shape/sensation of our memories still lingers on.

In the act of slowness, I particularly focused on the use of breath. Slowing down in order to remember, to honour the memories that has built these cities inside our minds. We each have our own perspective of "Our City".

What is "My City"?

After exploring it in physically, I sat with my book and let the words flow through me and into my pen, as I frantically scribble the words. My hand was trying to catch up to my brain, but the words and reflections kept flowing. I thought I would share that here because I think it is important:

It is really hard to sit still

Finding stillness is disturbing the chaos within

Inside, finding that center point

Making Breath flow and dictate my rhythm

Which in turn, dictates me.

Breath can be disturbing. Having a constant breathing pattern.

The only time when this is most consistent

is when we are asleep.

When we are awake, so are our thoughts.

Finding space and stillness.

As a way to deconstruct myself.

is a challenge.

No wonder meditation is difficult.

Even after as I write freely, letting

anything and everything

come alive in words.

Re-Translating my experience of breath

Slowing down, but I can't seem to.

It's getting difficult

Nothingness. Nothingness. Nothingness.

Breath as reflection. Breath as a temple.

To sit down with our thoughts

and have a wordless conversation

How annoying must it be that our thoughts

are just rambling on and on

But all we can do sometimes

Is to return that with silence. Void.

Silence is a response.

It's a powerful and empowering one.

Release. Sigh. Release. Sigh

Nothing much is released though

Trying to find words to describe this experience is almost doing it an injustice.

Words contain. Words have pre-existing meanings with our own experiences of the words.

Translation as an exchange

Information. Thoughts. Frustrations etc.

It's a literal thought-process

Because the act of translation happens in our minds.

It can be a private act, or a public display.

As I sit here and write, I'm translating movement into text.

It's alright, because I get my point across and it reads back at me in a more accessible way.

But at the same time, it doesn't.

Actually, I'm confused. Because words are an act of deconstruction in this case.

I'm taking the experience of movement in the physical being and giving it structure. Not necessarily meaning, but some form of understanding.

I imagine it's probably a similar process to those who do this for a living

Hm...

It's such a personal process.

And as I write, I'm holding my breath.