Note 1.1

Jino PARK's arts work note

Archive for the ‘boan’ Category

Boan – Secret Hotel, Room 15

leave a comment »

She is not very pretty, just a normal girl.

Today she is calm, silent and precise.

She puts on her just-pressed skirt.

It smells of gasoline. It is a very old skirt; its color has changed.

It smells like the brittle wings of dragonflies.

She puts it on prudently, patiently.

In the room, there is no mirror. She looks at herself with a small hand mirror.

It is a small room, where there is nothing much, just a large armoire. Inside are many costumes. All are old and threadbare. It’s already autumn. If we put on costumes like that, the wind would leave us nude. The costumes disintegrate even more quickly than dead leaves.

At the window, time flows in little bites. And now on the wall, there is a shadow of a girl dressing and undressing. She will soon cry.

Advertisements

Written by jinopark

October 21, 2009 at 9:06 pm

Posted in boan

Boan – Secret Hotel, Room 06

leave a comment »

Old made

An old woman with the body of a 12-year old girl, or a young girl who keeps a 99-year old woman inside her body. At a glance, she is nothing but a cute girl. Her face is caked with make-up. Very awkward. The make-up is ineptly applied. The coat is so thick that the make-up is creased. I really don’t know why: is she wearing make-up to look younger because she is such an old woman? Or is she actually a girl, who wants to look mature?

What is certainly clear to me is that she knows men. She knows them very well. Many. I shudder. Because I don’t know whether I am holding a girl or an old woman. On top of that, she wants too much. I’m scared. I feel like I’m being eaten in one gulp. She demands more and more of me, without stopping, she never dries up. I have the impression that even my knees have become wet.

She has fallen into complete insanity, as if she were about to expel something. At the end, her body glows red, like an old shaman who dances on the blades of knives in ecstasy, changed, transformed. She sweats like a young,18-year old wife…She ripens until I can’t guess her age. At this moment, she is neither a girl nor an old lady. She is just a woman; a woman who has absorbed the entire world into her body; who plows the earth with everything she has soaked up though the orifices of her body. Even then she is not satisfied; so she grinds herself slowly like a cat in heat. Yes, she is effectively female.

Later, I don’t know how much time has passed…I met her once again yesterday. She had aged a bit more. It seemed like she hadn’t changed…but inside of her…it seemed to me that she had gone completely rotten. I smelled the odor of her interior. Yes, the odor. The odor of an old temple. The odor of an artifact.

Something like the odor of a tomb.

Written by jinopark

October 21, 2009 at 9:05 pm

Posted in boan

Boan – Secret Hotel, Room 02

leave a comment »

Doctors, announcements of warning, the dark room, the cigarette and lighter, the room full of futons, inside one futon is being beaten.

Silence. A room of utter silence. It is heavy like lead. How can this room be so small, with walls so thin? How can there be so many people who know nothing of what’s passed? The answer is on the other side of this door, where the room is full of futons.

Written by jinopark

October 21, 2009 at 9:03 pm

Posted in boan

Boan – Secret Hotel, Room 01

leave a comment »

A baby is crying as if possessed. He is sitting there, in the middle of the room, and he is angry. Because of him, everyone else in this building has dark thoughts. I look at him from my door. I make a low whistle. As long as I whistle, the people come towards me.

I think it is only I who know this song–but no, now everyone is singing together.

My mouth has a wound. Blood gushes from my mouth. I touch it with my tongue

The wound is bigger than I thought. I bite at it, and spit out the blood; but now something is coming up my throat. A piece of meat is trapped there. Gagging, I almost have to vomit to force it out. Now there are two. The two pieces of meat are the hands of a baby: one, from the elbow to fingertips; the other, just the hand. On the one’s forearm, directions are written, just like on a packet of instant noodles. The directions explain how to cook the baby hands with detailed illustrations. In fact, I had understood what to do. I ate my own baby.

I’m shocked at what has come out of my stomach; I snatch up the meat and stash it in a paper sack from the pharmacy. Thank goodness there wasn’t anyone around to see. I put the sack in a trashcan and continue to walk. A group of Chinese crosses the street.

In front of a luxurious apartment, a stereotypical couple of about 35 years old look as if they were dead. The woman is on the inside of the window, leaning as straight as a board at a 45-degree angle, with her forehead against the glass. The man is on the outside, also leaning with his forehead on the glass. Their foreheads are just separated by the sheet of glass. The man has a doll in his hand; the woman is wearing a bathing suit. When I approach them, they are instantly awakened. They thank me.

I have a black friend who is homeless. He comes to see me. He wants something to eat. There is a party. From the window, we see tables full of food, but the door to this party has no handle. At the window there is a shadow of a young girl. We know someone has broken this door so that it won’t budge, but we force it open anyway. There. I go inside for my black friend, to ask for something to eat, but no one responds. They just look at me. All conversation has instantly ceased. They look angry. Maybe not. I don’t know.

Written by jinopark

October 21, 2009 at 9:02 pm

Posted in boan

Boan – Secret Hotel, Room 14

leave a comment »

Light and shadow.The division is perfect.Divided by the glass, the light doesn’t go any further than here.Here in complete darkness, the bottom is filled with light.I understand that light too is just a material.The door is in danger of exploding from the pressure of the light.In fact, I broke the glass easily, because this window is always in a state like this.All I need to do is touch it.I was a rainy night.The clouds swell as if they would like to erase the earth; and the wind whistles through the trees.

Written by jinopark

October 21, 2009 at 9:56 am

Posted in boan

Boan – Secret Hotel, Room 13

leave a comment »

At the summit of the mountain, two people are suspended from opposite sides of the summit, they grasp each other’s hands to keep from falling.The mountain is between them.If one lets go, they will both fall.They wouldn’t be able to argue about who let go first, since they would fall down opposite sides of the mountain.This would be a complete and clean division.

Written by jinopark

October 21, 2009 at 9:55 am

Posted in boan

Boan – Secret Hotel, Room 10 Chill

leave a comment »

A Sunday landscape.The air is fresh, the soft light is the color of milk.Maybe I smell the fragrance of my mother’s breast.It is winter, about 3 o’clock in the afternoon.The grocery store cat takes a siesta.It is the first beautiful day after a long period of bad weather.The tree by the bus stop is very thin.This tree is always there.In spring, when the children to school, this tree is there.In summer, the woman who sells hot-corn rests under the shade of the tree, looking at the empty street, and at this moment too, the tree is there.In autumn, the man waits for the lover who never appears finally faints and goes to the hospital. The tree is there and observes all out stories that take place on this tranquil street.And now, like a girl who has been rejected by her sweetheart, who tears up her diaries and sits on the sill, breathing slowly, looking out the window to where she will throw herself, the tree lets the wind carry off another leaf.
This is the moment that they arrive.The man wearing a black suit has a bizarre aura.The 10 year old child beside him has the aura of a little rabble-rouser.
Suddenly, the temperature drops.

Written by jinopark

October 21, 2009 at 9:55 am

Posted in boan