Dear Gabriella,
Today, I was listening to music from Ryuichi Sakamoto. I feel his life slowly disappearing and dimming through the melody.
I can’t help but feel melancholy.
What shall we do if we lose such a great artist?
I started thinking about life and death and the meaning of someone passing away.
Do their memories live on?
If so, do we truly have access to their memories?
Are they still present through their music or artwork?
Can we preserve the soul of an artist in objects and sound?
Are you still here? I feel your presence.
In every yarns that you’ve bundled, I see an image of you.
Can I say the same with paintings?
Do I see the artist standing right in front of me through their paintings?
It is a question I often think about when leaving museums.
I don’t feel the artists presence anymore. I only see the restoration and how shiny the surfaces are.
It’s like — it’s like the painting has been concealed and it can no longer speak.
Yet, I saw I saw Van Gogh.
Yet when I saw Rothko’s painting “Light Red Over Black”,
I felt him standing right in front of the canvas. I hear him putting down the brush strokes.
Maybe art should be fleeting…and just be kept for a moment of euphoria.
In all, nothing is permanent. We live and we die.
How beautiful it is that I am given this temporary shell of home.
Often, I can’t stop thinking that my mind and thoughts are just millions of electrons firing in different directions.
Am I all that is?
Is this all I am?
Am I existing? Or am I just being? Or is that the same…?
I can’t fathom the day that Ryuichi Sakamoto leaves us.
However, I feel comforted by what he is leaving behind.
Just like how you have left this box of yarns and ribbons.
Gabriella, I wish I could have all the answers.
Best Regards,
Yang Shen
November 8, 2022