When I fall down in front of me
I pick myself up
When I stand on my own feet
I kick myself down
I stop my mind from thinking
My mind stops me from stopping
I try to focus my mind on something
My mind tries to focus me on other thing
I write down about how I feel
What I write down is no longer how I feel
I delete what I no longer feel
I feel what I just delete
When I read what I read
I think it is not what I think
When it is not what I think
I think about what I didn't think
I answer a question
Then the question is no more a question
When it is no more a question
It doesn't need my answer
Now I see I get stuck
At a place I know so well
It is clearly to me that
I don't know my own next step...
a poem by VBN from NAME | Art Space
Visiting Bat Trang Ceramic Village with NAME Art Space
Bat Trang ceramic & pottery village is on the left bank of Hong river and about 10 km from Hanoi in East (in Gia Lam District, Hanoi). This ceramic & pottery village is an interesting attraction in Hanoi that tourists should not ignore. It is the most ancient and famous ceramic & pottery village of Vietnam and is constantly developing.
Ash Tray
. 1-2-3 Start making ceramic items
3 Pro ceramic artists
Colouring after drying
. Girls we met at the same workshop, they make faces that look so much alike their faces... So good!
A youtube video.
Shooting for Multimedia Poetry on Friday 27th 2012
First shooting day for Multimedia Poetry project by Susmita Paul and Vuong Bich Ngoc on Friday 27th 2012
Sundays @ 12 noon
Some nights the elbow stretches straight, running
Over the edge –
A perfect tout feeling at the shoulder
The elbow angled at that perfect degree
Inwards and paused. The palms meet gravity,
Hanging
Half open unlaced mushthi*1. No cribbing
In dreams. I carried the hundred bells threaded to the feet
Half across the globe, and then retraced;
Spaces between them widening, emptying
With the moon-tides. The mirror
Still
Has a say. Hypnosis I dream. It
Tugs and pulls and draws me into
That hall. No one sees, no one feels. Ghost-busting
Is not their call. Only once your eyes
Fall
On the mirror. The bells make a call. Did you feel
The glass quivering? I spread my feet
Across the new floor, unable
To remember the position I take
Ardhamandala
Purnamandala
Sthanaka*2
*1 mushthi is a hand gesture used in Bharatnatyam, an Indian classical dance. It means ‘closed fist’.
*2 ardhamandala, purnamandala and sthanaka are the three different positions of standing in Bharatnatyam.
© Susmita Paul 2012
Indian traditional dance by Namrata Gupta at Natarani Theater, Ahmedabad, India
Sundays @ 12 noon
Some nights the elbow stretches straight, running
Over the edge –
A perfect tout feeling at the shoulder
The elbow angled at that perfect degree
Inwards and paused. The palms meet gravity,
Hanging
Half open unlaced mushthi*1. No cribbing
In dreams. I carried the hundred bells threaded to the feet
Half across the globe, and then retraced;
Spaces between them widening, emptying
With the moon-tides. The mirror
Still
Has a say. Hypnosis I dream. It
Tugs and pulls and draws me into
That hall. No one sees, no one feels. Ghost-busting
Is not their call. Only once your eyes
Fall
On the mirror. The bells make a call. Did you feel
The glass quivering? I spread my feet
Across the new floor, unable
To remember the position I take
Ardhamandala
Purnamandala
Sthanaka*2
*1 mushthi is a hand gesture used in Bharatnatyam, an Indian classical dance. It means ‘closed fist’.
*2 ardhamandala, purnamandala and sthanaka are the three different positions of standing in Bharatnatyam.
© Susmita Paul 2012
Indian traditional dance by Namrata Gupta at Natarani Theater, Ahmedabad, India
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