Eat Your Green Part 1

As the mother waves the spoon full of yummies in a snake like progression toward the child, “here comes the airplane! Ahhh open your mouth!”
“No! I hate broccoli!”
“But broccoli is healthy, according to many scientists around the world!”
“No! I hate broccoli! I don’t care other people’s love for broccoli.  I hate broccoli!” 
“Here comes the chew-chew-chew-train! Don’t you love trains? Ah open it up!”
“No!”
“Here comes the boom-boom-boom motorcycle...”
“No!”
“Here come the boatshipyacht!”
“...?"

Yes, you read it right.  Boatshipyacht.  It may looks like a misprint at first, but after a while you would get use to it.  Simply put, boatshipyacht is an upgrade.  Boatship, the original vessel that houses creativity of one’s youthful past.  Yacht, a vessel often associates with luxury and status.  Therefore, boatshipyacht is the grand manifestation of the desire for betterment of oneself (and what child in his/her right mind would reject such a fancy transportation?). I am boatshipyachting.

Okay so what has been upgraded?  C’mon, lay it out.  Don’t be shy, open your mouth!

Okay, I’ve been feeling lost because I feel like I have lost audience, figuratively speaking.  I don’t know whom my art speaks to at the moment.  Before I moved out of Los Angeles I felt as though my work always has had a sense of correspondence.  Perhaps not directly to any particular artist, style, politics, but I feel like I was always responding to something.  To say it was totally reactionary isn’t correct either, but you know what you mean.

Right.  So how do you go from here?

Well, since I am boatshipyachting I need to load up a new set of lexicon.  A brand new set of language to deal with this problem: this absence of the imaginary dialogue-community.  There are a lot of slippages when one is making work out of vacuum.  I would like to figure out how to get my feet grounded again, finding friction.  I need to know whom I am speaking to, who I am addressing.  Dear-Whom.  So I could be Sincerely-Yours.  Thus I can get my voice back.  Get my jab back, sort to speak.   

Sounds like you lost confidence in yourself and ran way.  Chicken-about?

No, just a change of scenery (Insert two years in Singapore here).

Geeee.  Someone just quasi-interview himself.  Disgusting, isn’t it.  Even more so, trying to justify escapism with a tone of contemplation and far-sea adventure.  “Don’t call it bad sentence, but call it a sincere absence of correct lexicon in a foreign land.”  “Don’t call it pathetic, but call it admiring staggering works done by other artists and thus humbling and remain in stasis.” Euphemism, ha. This degree of self pity is almost upsetting.  Wake up, you ass shit.