There are old things and there are new things.
Buildings from the late 80s, early 90s sit next to the glossy glass-fronted ones with little heritage ones etched between these massive towers of concrete and steel.
The Metro Arts building houses the oldest lift (still) in Brisbane and Charlotte house, a sister building by the same architect now has a modern, functional goods and service lift, while where its old lift sits is now sealed by in a brick wall.
It has been a good start, settling into the sense of actually being here, of feeling the festival in full swing, of beginning to talk more tangibly of the rather intangible ideas we have been having. And it’s all good and very exciting – very, very exciting, and then also, extremely intense. Perhaps the self interrogation that happens – and really, the intensity tat I in fact really enjoy and thrive on, but also the intensity that can be quite consuming. Which perhaps is why I thrive on that, in the fact that it consumes.
It is hard to separate the art making process from the personal, since the concepts and themes are often really, a result of the personal reflection on things and life, my things and my life. And in wanting to question the city and that sense of home and identity in a/the city – that sense of progress versus history, of a macro scale and of the scale of the personal identity – I am inherently questioning my desire to leave Singapore – my attachment and non-attachment to Singapore: what is it that still has a hold on me? What is it that stifles me and holds me back? What is it that I can’t catch up with? And what is it that is drawing me away?
What of this new city attracts me? Why do I want to live in Melbourne? And what is it that is preventing me, pushing me away instead?
And all of these have got a vast spectrum of situations and relationships and complexities that I think I am learning to understand through this process – not that I want to be therapeutic about things, and become self-indulgent – but that this process – this “art” is of pondering Life’s questions, my questions, and that perhaps, these questions could potentially become someone else’s questions.