Birthday

If I'm honest with myself, I would concede that, yes, contrary to what I usually claim, I appreciate friend's kind words and gestures of kindness. 

So today was my birthday. Most of the day was spent replying to what amounted to 215 messages. I was touched that so many people made the effort to pen a few words, nevertheless finding the situation of staying home to reply to messages on Facebook to be a tad pathetic. There wasn't to be any birthday surprise like there was last year. Nicolas now no longer a friend, it was unlikely anyone else would make the effort to organise anything. I went to the gym and bought myself a CD. As I would do on any other day...

The day was saved by a card by Sandra which, by some impossible miracle, arrived in Taipei on exactly the right date (Sandra must have a deal with the French Post office) and by HongYi who, at 9pm, showed up with a delicious chocolate cake. HongYi and I share the same birthday. We had to do something. I had prepared a couple of gifts for him: an album by Max Richter and a John Berger's Ways of Seeing. 

We took a few pictures, exchanged a few kisses - when love is away, a kiss makes the day!

One hour later, HongYi had to run away to meet his friends who were waiting for him at the KTV. 

End

Nicolas was inside when I got back to my flat in Paris. He had not returned the keys and therefore could break in as he pleased. I was furious.  A few days before he had written another one of those farewell letters stating that he was excluding me out of his life. For what strange reason would he come again to my place, let himself in as if nothing had happened, as if he owned me and the place? I was seized by an unpleasant, almost frightening impression that something was not right. If I had always tried to be careful so not to hurt his delicate feelings in the past, be understanding, be forgiving even when he had been particularly nasty and violently insulting, I didn't try this time to contain my scorn. I demanded him to give the keys back and leave on the spot. I had never spoken to him like that in the past and to express myself that freely almost felt ecsatic. He kept silent, showed no sign of remorse, obviously certain that the anger would soon wane away and that we would be the best of friends again. And the cycle would start again until the next bomb letter...
And it struck me. By what kind of magic trick was I in my Parisian flat? Hadn't I moved to Taipei three years ago already? As I realised that, the flat started to change shape and the dream morphed into something else.  

I was confused when I woke up from the dream. It seemed so real. His presence. The house... The end of a friendship isn't too dissimilar to the end of a love story, especially when the friendship has been the intense one I shared with Nicolas. This wasn't the first time. But I have the impression it is the last one. In the eight years that our friendship has spanned, I believe I must have gone through five breaking-ups with him. I must have lost count. The worst one must have been the one where he announced my untimely death. Those letters and the others where he expressed his agony at having such a terrible friend as I. Quite strangely, he would never have the courage to tell me anything face to face, so the news would come as an e-mail, a 'bomb' as I would call them.
But this time, I had to agree with him. I no longer felt the wish nor the strength to try to understand and keep on walking by his side. Being a friend means I am to see the people I love at their best and also at their worst. However, abusing and hurting one's friend in full conscience isn't part of the deal. His presence for two months at my place whilst looking for a flat had been smothering, heavy and ultimately destructive. I blamed it on the stars, I blamed it on the moon, I tried to distance myself from my growing anger by telling myself that Nicolas was finding himself in an uncomfortable spot. I blamed it on my own fragile psychological state, my moodiness and hypersensitivity. Anything to avoid seeing what I had to see.
But eventually I had to face the fact: I could not stand him anymore. I was hardly half-joking with a friend when I told him that being friend with Nicolas was like being in a relationship with the Central Government in China (or the Queen of Heart in Alice in Wonderland). His totalitarian attitude and touchy temperament did not allow much freedom of speech for people around him, a few careless or misplaced words and the person would be banned forever. There was no forgiveness. It's strange though.
The previous times he was staying with me had been joyful and happy. Maybe because the situation was different: he still had a flat then, whether in Paris or Kaohsiung. This past time, the cohabitation was tense and dry, devoid of any fun, especially toward the second half of his stay. This was probably due to the repeated failed attempts at finding his new flat. Wrapped up into himself, all I could see was a stingy, indifferent and downright egotistical person who displayed a lack of compassion for others that genuinely shocked me, more because he claims to be an englightened person, and therefore had me expect to see more signs of wisdom from him. Or were my ideas about wisdom a bit cliché...?
I don't want that to be the last thing I remember of Nicolas, even if that's part of who he is. I understand where he needs to go. I'm just concerned that this road he's taking will be a cruelly solitary one.
But there's not a thing I can do.
I love him. But I have moved on. As he said it himself in his last letter: "I'm deserting you". The battle is no longer worth fighting.

Nicolas with a little frog he found on the street

Listen to:
Halcyon

A song I wrote back in 1998, even before I had started writing song for myself. The composition of the song was motivated by a text that Michèle Atlani, the French popstress I was working with at the time, gave me. Her lyrics were about someone who leaves during a winter night. I cannot recall very precisely.
Then I decided to keep the song for myself and began to pen lyrics about the last night of a criminal who recalls times of yore, when he was still innocent and doing things for the very first time.
The song went through many transformations, was performed live at concerts and only found its final stage now. 

A little bit of Paradise

Time with William is rare, so I cherish every second I have with him. We had settled to meet today and spend the afternoon together. I had just had a case of food poisoning at a Japanese restaurant (bad shrimp tempura - or tempura getting their second life...) which resulted in fever and a fairly whimsical stomach as I was watching Jacques Doillon's last opus with my friend Shang Hsin, a tiresome film where an angry girl and a verbose man joust verbally, get naked, wrestle physically, make love in a way that you don't want to touch anyone for weeks, endlessly, on and on ad nauseam, as they are known to do in so many French films...  I didn't stand more than half of the film and left.
Food poisoning mean no sex with William! Not even kissing. Sharing would not be caring in this case! William has to take care of his mother who was suffering depression. She had to be taken in and out of the hospital regularly. But I got confused. Wasn't his mother in Kaohsiung? Did it mean he had to go South every day after work? It takes an hour and half with the high speed train, but still... Wouldn't that be draining?
"No! My mother is healthy"! William laughed. "It's my 'other' mother, my Taipei mother!"
That lady had taken him under her wing and he devotes lots of time to her, taking her to church, to the hotspring, on week ends. Between that and his friends and his boyfriend, there was little time left for us.
"What shall we do today?" William asked me.
I had no idea. Since sex was out of the picture, I suggested we went somewhere out of town. River, mountain, beach... We got to his car which had been fixed at the garage and drove to a flower market where I bought a few new plants. Then we headed to that spot where the two rivers join before reaching the sea, on the border of a bird park where I sat to watch egrets and ibises flying in the sunset. Going to the river and walking aimlessly was one of the first things William and I enjoyed doing at the beginning of our relationship. There was a sense of uncertainty and limitless possibility then. For a couple of hours, we forgot about the dead end of our situation, and just enjoyed each other's company, surrounded by the beauty of nature at its sunset's best.
Indeed joy and happiness find their true meaning when one has known sorrow and unhappiness. Both are unfortunately strongly bound to another. Moments of bliss can erase all the hardship - temporarily. But how precious they are.
I didn't think of any future with William. I was just feeling good. Now.

PLAY (2 PLAY) again

I will not stay on this feeling of incompleteness after the aborted affair with the Captive Queen, Jo has written to me that he plans to re-perform our second ballet, PLAY 2 PLAY by the end of the year - probably in December. My task is to revise some sections and shorten them. I had told myself that if that piece was ever performed again, I would want to revise the music, as I had done for NINA. 

"But don't touch Ewig (the last movement that features Isabelle's singing). It's just beautiful the way it is!" he wrote.

December... Will I be able to go there and attend the performance? Ticket prices for Japan have collapsed after the Tsunami and the Fukushima tragedy two years ago. 

"Beside Sawako, it will be a completely new cast". 

PLAY 2 PLAY was a turning point for me and him, back in 2007. The piece encapsulates the very essence of our beings. I have told Jo that the three pieces we did together were like a 'trilogy of creation'. The first one, NINA was about the act of creation, and the relationship between him and his 'oeuvre'. PLAY 2 PLAY dealt with the role and responsibility of the creator in the world. Also his extreme solitude, as it was depicted in that particular Ewig scene. Les Contes d'Hoffmann, the third and last ballet told of the private lives of the creator. And again his solitude in creation. Quite ironically and quite logically, Jo went one step further with The Captive Queen. But given the meaning of the title, it makes sense that I could not be part of the project. Jo was his own prisoner. And the walls were so high and thick that I could not reach him. 

After that, I would tell myself that maybe our collaboration would not go on. I don't see what else I can do. But then, isn't what I have told myself after each big project? 

I shall work on the music next month. For now, I want to shoot the music videos, something I have postponed for too long a time!

One Voice

After three years living in Taipei I feel I have reached a stage when everything I do has to be more political. Whatever I say or do stands out from the norm, even more when in Asia. Having a voice is a powerful tool for an artist, but what happens when people do not wish to hear? There's no ideal country. The issues change shape but remain the same fundamentally. When I lived in France, mine was to find a voice and the courage to use it. I had alas not reached the stage where people would stop and listen to me. I was invisible. It's different in Taipei. People are indeed interested, but they get scared like little rabbits not daring to hop out of the cage.

I had been invited to show my photographic work for a possible exhibition at a place called The Empress Lounge. Formerly a non too successful night club, it has now been turned into a coffee shop with a gallery space. That is, that's what the owner is hoping to achieve. I immediately saw the potential as soon as I walked in. But it was still at a potential stage. As it was, the space was a messy mismatch of falsely baroquely garish sofas, vintage industrial chairs and tables and a bit of n'importe quoi gathered from an antique shops at the flea market (flea market in Taipei?)

The current exhibition was showcasing colourful and cute paintings of animals (mostly cats) by a Japanese artist named Pepe who also provided the music, an album of (cute) folky songs that perfectly match the artworks on the wall. They asked me if I would have an exhibition the following month. I was about to accept (and arguably get myself into trouble) when Strawberry boy Ryan wisely told me to wait.
"This place still doesn't have any clientele" he said. "And you shouldn't rush to find yourself with no one coming to see your work. Wait for a few months"
What a good piece of advice! I instead suggested the idea of a collective exhibition. A perfect way to launch the place and make it known to people. The Empress bar also needed to undergo some serious changes. The leftover furniture from the club had to be disposed of, more place should be dedicated to the artworks, the working space area for the staff had to be re-located away from where the customers have their meal and drink...  

And I got carried away. F., the owner, a suave and attractive young man endowed with a rich deep voice (he used to sing in a choir) happily welcomed my suggestions. He even started to dream on with me as I was explaining to him that the place had to undergo drastic changes if he really wanted to make a difference. Coffee shops with art on the wall is a common trend in Taipei - to me, calling a coffee shop 'gallery' is an euphemism which thinly disguises a trick from the owners to get free decoration for their space.
I presented some more suggestions which would help boost up his place as an exciting and cool artistic venue. Unfortunately, my vision wasn't his vision. He had none.
Much as he loved the ideas, he slowly started to show his nervousness: he didn't feel he had the guts to go all the way. "I'm a business person, so I have to think about making money" he explained.
Business? His night club venture was a tragic failure which he managed to drag for a year and a half if it wasn't for his parents' help. I often hear people invoking the financial issue to excuse their unwillingness to pursue their aims.
"And I also have to take my partners into account. I may agree with you, but they might think it's too drastic a decision."
His mother had flown back from Toronto to help her son. Then a different picture unveiled un front of me:
F. was just one of those rich kids who were born with a silver spoon in their mouth. He may have studied finance, but had still not showed signs of any real ability in the department.
I was disappointed. But the whole experience made one thing clear for me: asking F. to be the artistic director of his gallery was a mistake, for I actually need someone to do support my work and bring it to the public. Not the opposite. In spite of the disappointement, the outcome was a positive one. I had been preparing all my life and it was now time to embrace my talents, get out there and find the people who would help/me.

No doubt in the universe

I regularly go to the BaoAn temple to talk to the gods. Today, as I was stepping out of the bus which drove me home from Jienn Chiang's brother's restaurant in ShiLin, I inexplicably felt a force compelled me to pay them a visit. It was right in the middle of the afternoon, the sun was blazing so not many people were found walking on the street.

I was already hearing voices talking to me as I made my way to the temple. 

Once inside, I took an incense stick and went straight to the altar. There are many gods and divinities, but I usually go to two or three of them. I stood there for a moment. The tone was solemn but not heavy. The god told me that it was now time to take total responsibility of my life. It will be coming very quickly, but I had to be careful not to indulge in self pity and doubt.

"Because there is no doubt in the universe. Things are what they are. There is no doubt concerning their very existence. Only your perception of it will create this decrepancy inside of you. It's now up to you to fully be embrace your life."

I felt like a warrior summoned by the king to be sent to his ultimate mission. I do feel my life is like some sort of mission. I don't want to do anything for myself. My aim is to lay the foundation for the future generations. Thoughts, path of life, awareness of what surrounds us. 

I was told - once again, that I didn't have more than four years left. But that everything I want to do will be completed. My parents will survive me. My mother will forget me. My father will drown in grief. I can only see it now. His last work was entitled The lonely steps of a traveller. My mother's condition is stable, apparently, according to my father's last letter. The doctors can only take care of the physiologic aspect of her illness. Any change of behaviour is beyond their control. It is indeed, for I have always believed that my mother's Alzheimer disease was a choice, albeit an unconscious one. Whatever I or anyone may try to do will have no effect if she has decided that it was the way she saw her life. I do not wish to see my father so unhappy. 

All these thoughts were whirling in my mind as the god was talking to me.  

"But for now, there are here, and you are here. Just be, in the now" the god went on.

He also mentioned William. 

William finds himself at an important crossroad in his life and he understands that. But he's lost too, because what is at stake is enormous for him. So it is my responsibility, if I love him - and I do, to be by his side. He will need me more than he realises. But William will be my companion through these coming years.

The bond that connects us is different than it was a few months ago. 

Indeed there is no doubt in the universe.

Happy family

A small beagle dog, an old spacious Southern-style French house with a courtyard in full bloom and a small pond. I do not quite recall what was happening exactly. The dog belonged to a friend and found its way into the house and decided to stay. I was happy to have a new companion  I remember I was a chasing a big cockroach out of the house with the dog. So I was obviously in Taipei. The next morning, the dog was nowhere to be found, so I started searching for it. As I was walking outside on the street, I suddenly bumped into my two parents! They were sitting on in the shadow of a big tree, smiling radiantly. 

"But... I was just talking to you the other day!!!" I told my father. I did indeed call him to wish him a happy Father's Day last Sunday. He had given a big laugh because he didn't even remember it himself. We talked for a little while. He enquired about the state of my work. 

"Money is very tight at the moment. I thought I would receive more royalty in April, but the amount was ridiculous! I hope it will be better in April..."

And now they were there. My mother looked fine. She was so happy to be in Taipei. Finally, after all these years talking about visiting me and how she had read all the novels by Qiong Yao. I couldn't believe it! My brother soon appeared into view. He seemed to enjoy the surprise.

I led them into my house. As I opened the door, I saw the dog. I took it in my arms.

"What would I tell your owner if you had really disappeared????" I scolded it affectionately.

"I'm the landlord!" the dog replied. 

My sister-in-law Mathilde emerged from one of the rooms, beaming. At this stage nothing surprised me anymore. I was reunited with my family in Taipei! I couldn't be happier.

It was my happiest dream in ages.