Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Friday, January 2, 2009
0H!Life : Cest' La Vie
: experiments in packaging an oeuvre.

This final year project concerns packaging the ephemeral, capturing the fleeting and organizing and designing around time and life. The deliverables will be 6 artist books titled OH!life, or Cest la vie— the OH referring to the artist herself. The books are autobiographies, with visual, written and aural explorations and translations of life. The content and materials of the deliverables aim to reproduce specific sensations. The books also include highly experimental forms and illustrative techniques. What is most important is that this is not a traditional oeuvre, but an experimental packaging of the ephemeral.
0H!Life conveys a complexity of emotions associated with the passing of time, which emanates from capturing moments that would otherwise be gone, all the while acknolwedging that the only constant is change itself. On a meta level these experiments aim to expand the role of the book and of the oeuvre through form and content.

Stuck at how I should package these books. I think they need to be tied together with some sort of coherency. Will representative colours and bold white helvetica text on the packaging be enough? it seems a little boring. i need guidiance
0H yes!

Do it anyhow.
This book will be the last of all the books and the very last book of FYP. It shows a latest release, one the pent up stresses during fyp. This will be a free-styler book, crafted with the revelation of how I perceive a book should be. It will only be done after I finish the other five books.
It is like a battle of hand technology to me when I say I want to produce books. I am not good with craft, neither am I really good at layout, and those tiny tiny typo details. But I still like book publications, because I feel they are timeless. People suggest I source out for printing and production to finish the books, make it look more professional. But that is not my work. And is the finished look really that important? Can I just stay true to myself with bad craft, with the dynamisn and spontaniety I would always like to find in books, just like the way I do my painting? Let it just flow freely? revive the once thrown away designs and ideas and inculcate them roughly yet interestingly in this book.
0H Shit
side roller bar should be able to turn the paper in.
the mock up should stand like this
I want to share this experience in a creative way. when I do all sorts of funny things, like forgetting where I left my keys in which pocket of my bag etc...i go OH shit oh shit oh shit and start to panic. I thought, Oh shit, but i do not want to shit. I do not want myself to be so careless, so forgetful. Why not write everything down I thought? Have crappy notes when you go oh shit. so i did a crappy roll, intended for forgetful people to write a note of it.
The crappy roll is perforated, with 144 'shits' per roll, all for writing crappy notes. Below is a packaging for this. However I am modifying, any suggestion? I was thinking of only one roll a pack with a designed holder at the side. hmm but I am thinking if I should design any refill packs.


0Hayo

This book will be from the IMPORT section. Housed in a luggage with the relevant airplane barcode stickers
There are many things in japan I am amazed by, the design(an eg above), the people and culture in particular.
They make me rethink about design. Important people that I meet over there which I will never forget.
This book will share with people about my insights into Design in Japan, the poeple I meet, the things I saw, the culture. The fruitful 3 months which I would have plan wiser, learn more, that's what I regreted. I seems to have grown and think a lot older after the trip.
0H Dear
talks about my relationship with people dear to me.
oh dear in different tone can mean different expressions,
OH dear in an endearing way. OH dear when you worry about something bad.
I want to talk about the OH dear in an endearing way.
below is a poretray project in school which I am tying in to OH dear project.
Poretray : portray.
I went to close friends, and give them a hammer and a needle, and a same piece of my portrait. I set the rule at 1 knock per month they know me, at how they perceive me.
So eg, if you know me for 11 years. You will have 11 X 12 =121 knocks on my face. If she say: Wenxin has a good listening ear, he/she will 'poretray' my ears, by placing my portrait over the white piece of clean paper I hand over to them. I then did a accordion fold joining these pieces together.
Its rather interesting when the light falls through these pore(s)-tray. And unintentionally i seemd to have acheive the other OH dear effect(when you express this expecting something bad) when people say why do I have to hit your face its cruel. But to me, it is endearing at the end when I actually find out how they perceive me. And the more number of marks they leave on the paper, the more we had went through together.



the above, i was also thinking about oh dear, being strings attached to me. People whom I had strings attached to, and people whom I want to cut off strings attached with. I threaded the words with the strings which is connected to the hands in the front, thinking to make this into a book. but stuck between the two ideas. maybe I will push this to the OHAYO book, since the hands part, I was influenced by one of the works I saw in Japan
0H! My God

which is better? the top or bottom one for the cover page(left image)

\ oh my god \\ choked version.
i weesh sew machh det thuose infinaade moreliikues det I breathf careeid no hiytrogenn airrterms. De andtraapmen xeemed lyke foureva. Nou onee saw me. Aul I deed woas to lat go ouf d gripp ouf d sides ouf d woall. N Oh my God. I sangk. A thot serface et d bagk ouf meiy mynd - dat I woas tuu shhort fer dis. I wuanted tu shhaout, buut weards xeemed tu b stuck et meiy throat. I cud ounly behayve ‘fishingly’, throuing baables inxide woter. I wuanted tu leaip upp tu d brim. Bart d karrents draagged mee doun, s xif dey wer tuu looneli n hennc eegaly nteeciipayting dis somersaulting battle wif mee. Paranormal imageus I will nehver fourget ouverley itxelf oun d disarraied blu wayves n flicklering blac hues. Daddy is smilingg; hes smile s diip s d woter chokin my aeir passages. Mummy callingg out tu mee; her voise weyaves floatiing aroun. Den Mummy got riplace bby d somewaat blurrd vysion ouf myy twu brothers plaeiing fetch wif myy beelovedd little dog. N den immence fear sangk in s I realised hao long I hav biin in dat depth, in dat suction of fluyid. I triedd evenn harder to breathf. I deed not want dis fleeting imaygeus ouf myy luved ones tu go awaey. I feared leeeving alone. I cud not bear c-ing deir hartbroken faces n hearingg their loud, teary sobbs. But nou maater hao hard I tried, layears n layears of woter frenticalli antered intu myy nostrils, my mouf, my ears, my iyes, n evry single pors or openings dey cud find in me. I was angulfed. I couffed woter. I chokd. But when I opened my mouf tu gasp four eir again, der was nun, only mor woter. N I couffed n chokd oncc mor. Not serccumbing but I thot I saur God. I saur an emti holowness ouf hope, ouf dying. Yet I was stil sirvivingg. I thot I was dying, yet I stil fought tu breathf. Finally I saw a hend. Myy little hend ouf sirpport, n realization hit mee, hao badly I nided it, tu live on. I treasured life froum den on. It mus hav biin God's wey of parnishin me for havin bleak thots of life s a chore; s a meeserry. No. Life is a sacred treasure. Luv urself. Luv life n life wil reciprocate ur luv tu.

