one eight zero

the most interesting three hours of this week.

one day i will be able to put together a book called conversations with strangers. it would reveal the true me. no multiple personalities no analysis of the future versus the past. just the truth. words developed in a darkroom infinitive horizon. i miss the melody of silence during the night. i’ve stopped dreaming. letterpressed photographs and new year’s resolutions. name three constants in your life.

lately everything i name has “a hong kong” before it. a hong kong story. a hong kong reality. dreams. coffee. life. relationships. lies, thought and rice. as if it is somehow different from the rest of the world. in a way things are different in hong kong because they have a unique history attached to them. i’m overflown by silent images for my first full lenght art house film. unrelated scenes perfectly fitting into each other. 24 lies per second. it took me a minute to write down a poem, which unfolds the story of yesterday. another title for the past. another title.

these are my ups and downs of hong kong life. the differences. and there’ll be more.