10.30.2012

Posting at work

Life is wheezing by and I am an outsider.
Actually, let me rephrase that.

I'M A FOOKEN NOOB.

Seoul's very big and big and busy and did I say big?
Seoul is familiar yet unfamiliar.

The thing is, I can't formally formulate this... uncomfortable feeling of not knowing... a lot of the ins & outs. I know Vancouver as if it's the palm of my hand (I know the city's size is VASTLY different) but I know Vancouver's insides, too, you know? I'm confident.

Here I flounder through buildings, people, signs, cigarette smoke, dirty air, systems, structure, unknown language, and mannerisms in a tired state. I'm grateful for all the things I flounder through. But why do I have to do this alone and... in a tired state. I hate that word, TIRED. So I keep myself up high with my mentality just floating up there. But the comfort ain't here. Not in my body and not here. Not yet.




cheerios~


10.17.2012

Vicky Cristina Barcelona

There's something about Woody Allen and women of all ages.

Regarding Cristina:
She had reluctantly accepted suffering as a inevitable component to deep passion
and was resigned to putting her feelings at risk
If you asked her what she has been gambling her emotions on to win,
she would not have been able to say
she knew what she didn't want however,
and that is what Vicky valued above all else.

Antonio says:
why not?
life is short
life is dull
life is full of pain
there is a chance for something special

Penelope teaches me Spanish: 
"pocritai" -- hypocrite in Spanish

Official trailer:


Penelope working her magic here:




Watch this movie as if it's a prelude to Midnight in Paris. It works out. Hand in hand. Pocket Planes time.


10.16.2012

Tobias Wong

Meet Tobias "Tobi" Wong.


On Oct 4th, I was lucky enough to be invited by Nigel to attend an exhibition talk at the Museum of Vancouver. I was a naive little girl, having no idea who this internationally acclaimed artist, Tobias Wong, was, yet entering an intimate circle of his -- friends + family -- at the talk.

I have all sorts of mixed feelings about this night. So I think I will just point form my thoughts.

a) I didn't like how yuppy the crowd was. I didn't like myself for not being as open to talking with any of the people there. I thought that I was someone who really likes "art," including all the pretentious fuckeries and beautiful bullshit phrases that are involved with it. But it wasn't so. And I had many internal conflicts.

b) I thought his death was super interesting. I liked this guy, Tobi Wong, more due to his death. He was one helluva sleepwalker. He finished art pieces and cleaned his whole house while he sleep walked, and that is FASCINATING already, right!? But he had committed suicide while sleep walking. Now, that. That gives me the shivers.

The NY Times made a limited edition newspaper scented candle in honour of his death


c) He was an asshole artist. He created stuff with objects that already existed as his mediums. He gold-plated everything cheap and made it into a luxury while he destroyed everything luxurious to make it into cheeky art. I can't deal with that; it is unethical and immoral BUT IT'S SO GENIUS so I'm really jealous. Again, I'm conflicting with myself.

The Money Pad made out of one hundred $1 bills and sold for $199.

The $20 000 Warhol print wrapped around a box....

The gold plated things...

The ring series including the Killer Ring.

Nigel having fun with the silver plated light switch.

d) Needless to say though, his pieces are pretty cool. I liked how some of them were super TRENDY but you can tell that some are timeless art and they definitely deserve love and special care.


e) The thing that Nigel said which was BANG ON about the evening (and I am not a living voice recorder so I don't remember the word-for-word quote, but it was something along the lines of...): "It's almost like it is not enough to just like his art, but we have to like him, too. I've never been to such an event where they ask for us to like the GUY making the art as much as his work." Then we kept talking to come to a conclusion that the leading and famous artists of today must be liked in 360 degrees point of view. For example, we not only like their music, but they have to be talented, beautiful, a good dancer, and also a philanthropist. Go figure.


Intrigued?
Meet Tobias Wong through NY Times: The Mysteries of Tobias Wong
In the Georgia Strait: Object(ing): The Art/Design of Tobias Wong praises a true provocateur


tweet @rachelchungg tweet
D-3 til K-Town


10.07.2012

Just for a laugh

Let me quote Ann Romney:

“Why should women be paid equal to men? Men have been in the working world a lot longer and deserve to be paid at a higher rate. Heck, I’m a working mom and I’m not paid a dime. I depend on my husband to provide for me and my family, as should most women… and if a woman does work, she should be happy just to be out there in the working world and quit complaining that she’s not making as much as her male counterparts. I mean really, all this wanting to be equal nonsense is going to be detrimental to the future of women everywhere. Who’s going to want to hire a woman, or for that matter, even marry a woman who thinks she is the same, if not better than a man at any job. It’s almost laughable. C’mon now ladies, are you with me on this?” 



SO ARE YOU??? ARE YOU... ARE WE WITH HER ON THIS?!!??!! 
#CrazyBitch
#BitchStupidAssBitch
#OldPunkassBitch
#OldDumbassBitch
#JustABitch



PS. Note that this article may be SPOOF/NOT REAL (says Google...)
PPS. But whatever. 
PPPS. If you think those hashtags are TOO MUCH, well they are lyrics from a song. Guess which!!! 
.
.
..
Are you thinking....!? Which song......?????
..
.
.
.
....
..
.
.
.
.
Yes! You're correct!  Roses by Outkast!!!! 
....okay. This guessing game was lame. I know. 
I'm sorry.
I just had a really rough day; I wanted to be perky.


10.05.2012

Whaz on ma desktopz

1)  Dress in black. ALWAYS. Why do I even bother not dressing in black... MK in layers of black looking like a damn fine vampire. I need a bag by The Row. The second pic is from YSL's SS 13 show... your eyes hold no importance. Must cover them with a wide rimmed black hat. YESYES.



2) "Shave your eyebrows and creative colour the f*** out of your hair," says fashionistas from Japan!! Do NOT watch the bagel head/saline injection video... you'll puke yer guts out. :'( 



3) The world must not end in 2012, since his next movie is supposedly coming out in 2014: THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL. #MegaSwoonForever



4) .........       ^__^* 

funny gifs


Tumble @iampurpose

10.03.2012

DEATH GRIPS

     DEATH GRIPS      


new
band
obsession
black
am I being racist...
because that's not what I meant...
I meant to say like
their music
it's DARK
it's GOOD
put the album on repeat
I cried
I got angry
then I got confused
so it's all good
intense
angst
leak


    NO LOVE DEEP WEB   
      FULL ALBUM   



GG

Only like two more weeks to go til Korea times.
Ah. Ma. Gawd.



Between Oct 1st and 2nd

They had deep eyes, full of purity. Untouched by any sort of injustice in this world, they came to my doorstep (which was basically my room door) and knocked. They seemed so small due to their clear eyes that seemed to pop out at me that I instantly wanted to care for them.

"We're looking for work," said the boy.
He looked worn yet comfortable in ripped black skinny jeans and a white tee shirt. He had a full head of dark brown -- almost black -- curly locks. I just wanted to run my fingers through them to see how tangled the mess was; it also looked extra soft due to its oil. His right hand was in his jacket pocket and his left held the girl's hand. His eyes were dull showing no venom nor complexity.
She was a pretty little thing with soft white skin. Her lashes long and her bright blue eyes sparkling with hope and amazement. She channeled Pattie Boyd.. Maybe due to her soft, long blonde hair with bangs, of course. She just glowed everywhere! She was so delicate!!!! It wasn't believable that her hand wasn't crushed within her beau's. She was a teenage heartthrob, a vintage film star, the epitome of caucasian women, etc.......

They were the most beautiful couple I have ever seen.
They were the purest couple I have ever seen.
They were so in love that they brought tears to my eyes and made me nauseous.
I wanted them to be mine.

So I employed them by sticking them up on my wall with the double-sided Scotch tape. They were bigger than all the figurines that I had stuck up on the ceiling and the walls of my room, but they fit right in. When I lay on my bed, they were right above my body on the right wall. I stuck them up making sure that they were still holding hands. They were oh, so very happy, and were ridiculously good at staying up on the walls. They were polite, too. When I left the room, they said good-byes, and when I came back they always greeted me with a smile from each of them.

This did not seem bizarre at all. Except once, before closing my lids to go to bed, I glanced up at them and realized that... Maybe humans shouldn't be stuck up on walls even if this were a dream. Then I imagined a concept from 추격자, this Korean film, where the serial killer hung his victims' corpses, then slit their achilles heels to drain them from everything heavy the bodies have. My couple looked just like them all of a sudden. Am I supposed to slit their Achilles? Fucking disgusting.

So the very next day, in order to clear my mind perhaps, I decided to go shopping. I wanted to get some new clothes and underwear for the two of them. I went inside this store which had TONS of undies: fancy ones; cheap ones; skanky ones; and like, reaaaaaaally weird ones, too. So yeah. The store reeked of the vintage-store-dusty smell, and the lighting was pretty terrible. Pink and black feather boas hung from the ceiling and the employees all had some sorts of body modifications. The mirrors were all pieced together as if I was looking down a kaleidoscope and they were of NO HELP at all. I thought to myself, "where the fuck am I? The Palace of Versailles????" Idk what was going on in my head either.

I was getting dizzy and felt like puking so I left the store through its tiny back door to find my couple outside. Oh right, I guess I gave them a day off for the day....(!?) This is when I learn of their names, Matthew (Mattie) and Susan (Susie).
Susie was only wearing a 50s style white two piece and a neon snap back. I wasn't sure if it was a bikini or just a bra and panties. Matt was in a light blue suit... some kinda outfit which was totally put together by Saturday Night Live's costume designer. It was a horrendous suit, but because Matt is such a handsome fellow, it didn't really matter. He looked scrumptious.

The two were super happy to see me, and I couldn't believe how much their greeting made me happy. If they hadn't been as happy when talking to me or if they hadn't fawned all over me, showing off their new clothes, I think I might have even cried. Them seeing, greeting, and coming over to me meant a HUGE deal to me just then.
Anyhow, the two kept rattling on about how the store people were really nice even though they look scary. They had gotten their clothes from them for free.
I guess these two can be loved anywhere they go. Their beauty being ridiculously attractive, but it's because of their innocence and genuine naivety! They were not people of our time; where and when did these two come from?

They had drank a bit before meeting me with the store people. I looked over at the crowd. Kind of a strange bunch; their vibe was a mix of Die Antwoord and LMFAO... Yeah............

Susan had learned to longboard and wanted to show me. She abruptly grabbed the board from the alley and started off to ride on the roadside, not the sidewalk. I started to panic because the road was super busy for some reason. Cars were everywhere and I knew that something would go wrong. I screamed after her and grabbed a bike on the side to chase after her. It was then when I got hit by a bus and went flying off my bike. It was here when I lost track of time and space and Susie and only chaos ensued.

Only chaos ensued.

When I awoke, the road was still full of traffic. I was physically fine but paranoid. I kept walking down the road to find a small commotion of people in front of a bus. As soon as the scene was visible, I knew everything had gone wrong. There was Mattie, my Mattie, sprawled on the ground. He was a bloody mess; the dark red liquid soaking up his dark dark hair. I ran over and tried picking him up. Crying and wiping the blood off his face, I yelled for him to wake up.
He did wake up. And he walked over to the sidewalk and laid there, gurgling that he was fine. Bullshit. He said that he smoked weed with them store people then they put him in a cart or something and that caused him to crash. Those fuckers. I called 911 for an ambulance, but the woman on the line (who talked and sounded just like those ladies who pick up for cab lines) was a fucking cunt. Basically, I was on the line asking for an ambulance and explaining what and where the event had happened, and she wasn't even paying attention. Then Mattie spotted an ambulance around half a block away. My stomach lurched.

I tried to cover the scene from his sight. The more I tried, the more he struggled to see.
"Who's there? Is that Suze? My Susie?" He kept gurgling, yelling, and trying to get up. His outreached, bloody fingers were full of love for Susan. He needed to be there and touch her and die with her if need be!!!! However, I wouldn't let him. I wouldn't let him die!!!! No, he can't. He needs to work for me a little longer. He needs to come back with me. And OBVIOUSLY the other hurt one is Susan; who else!? I didn't know what to do except to make sure Matt stays down until the next ambulance comes, but my tears betrayed everything. I couldn't stop crying.

I couldn't even stop Susan from going down the street.
I couldn't be there for Matt when the others were toying him around. Dicks.
I couldn't get an ambulance to come.
And I'm half a block away, watching a distorted scene of paramedics working on Susan's limp body on the ground through layers of tears.

Then all the sound was gone and the whole thing was in slow-mo (this is when I consciously, in my dream, affirm to myself to write this dream down and to make it into a short movie...).

Matt, a bloody mess, screaming and prying himself out from my arms to flop over on the ground while trying to get up.
Susan, a fuzzy bloody mess, getting hoisted on to a stretcher.
Paramedics, the tired blobs, pulling the white sheet over Susan's face.

All I hear is a fuzzy noise and as if on cue, I WAKE UP! YAAAYYYY!!!!


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