tweet the witter

okay, if accessing blogspot is going over 5 different firewalls...with a fast internet connection in front of a computer...
and tweeting my twitter blog is just about taking my iphone out of the pocket...i guess you twiwin.

dear friends, please follow me now on

twitter : shensimila
facebook: Elsie SHEN
youtube: channel shensimilia
vimeo: channel shensimilia
chinese blog: blog.sina.com/shenyielsie

I have to say goodbye to this blogspot page until the chinese govern decide to unblock...

sinceres salutations

Hunt

New video work 2009

HDV video Recording and Editing: SHEN Yi Elsie
Sound recording and Editing: SHI Yang and SHEN Yi Elsie

http://www.youtube.com/user/shensimilia
title: Hunt

...i will fly

words that takes my breath away...

JUAN GRIS


By day give thanks by night beware
sweetness one half of the world
the other showed blind harshness
In the veins a merciless present was read
in the beauties of the contours limited space
cemented all the joinings of familiar objects
Table guitar and empty glass
on an acre of solid earth
of white canvas of nocturnal air
Table had to support itself
lamp to remain a pip of the shadow
newspaper abandoning half of itself
Twice the day twice the night
of two objects a double object
a single whole for ever and ever.

* By Paul Eluard

my images can't nearly compare to the beauty of words...

The Neon God

Here is a new serie of images completed end of 2008

mounted from still photos.


Between documentary and surealism...about migrated teenagers who work in specialized professions unique to Urban China of today. In stead of a realistic portray of the lives of these young kids, artist chose to give them super natural powers like the cartoon figure of NeZha in an ancient Chinese legend. It is utterly romantic, yet the choice of sound accompany the video also bring out a certain level of disturbance.

Let me introduce Youtube channel Shensimilia:

http://www.youtube.com/user/shensimilia
title: The Neon God

Amael Says

Amael Says
He is no longer shy
And that he drives a black Vespa
Why girls don’t come to him with
Their sunglasses and mini-skirts?

Amael Says
When the band is playing
Which song should he play
With his new grown beard?

But he travels the rooftops of the city
People all call him Chevalier
‘Cause he has the ring of the Lord

Amael Says
That he wants to know
Why it’s though he is the river
He can’t be the port

Amael Says
But doesn’t stop laughing
Who drinks black coffee with Raspberry Tarts?
He is the Chevalier
‘Cause he has the ring of the Lord

People ask “Is Amael back from school”?
But doesn’t top laughing
He is the Chevalier
He drinks black coffee with Raspberry Tart
He is the Chevalier
He travels the rooftops of the city
He is the Chevalier
‘Cause he has the ring of the Lord
He is the Chevalier
‘Cause he has the ring of the lord

* Tribune to all the songs I love which start with "xxx says": Danny Says, Jane Says, Caroline Says, Lisa Says, Candy Says, Stephanie Says....

laziness ... (photos of india june 2008)

Flaming Mingos (it is a folk song)

When you cross the line of 66 degrees north,
Exactly how many times did you dream?
Snowflakes explode in the sky
Shake hands with evil
Until the day is over
Crooked rain flows in the dustbin
Flaming Mingos arrive in town
Flaming…Flaming …Mingos
Flaming Mingos arrive in town.

Some people drink black coffee in the morning
The blue coat is still around the morning after
Breath hazes the glass window
Say hi, my dear brother
No one has the drive way forever
You are Flaming Mingos
Flaming… Flaming…Mingos…
You are Flaming Mingos

Constant happiness hides under the Christmas tree
If only love no longer fades away
Sesame oil floats in E major
Sing along Mr. Postman
Baby deers change their outfits
We are Flaming Mingos
Flaming.. Flaming..Mingos,
We are Flaming Mingos.

...passing by

搬家启示

这两天正在搬家，以后所有中文的文字会放在我的中文博客 http://blog.sina.com.cn/shenyielsie，敬请光领，此处只留英文的文字。

From now on, all Chinese posting will be found on my Sina Chinese blog http://blog.sina.com.cn/shenyielsie, you are welcome to visit. This blog is only dedicated to English postings.

Les Americains

Walking down the wetted pavement of rue de Richelieu and then to Palais Royale and heading towards home, rain drops and the cold air defines a typical Parisian Winter Season. I could not help replay the black and white images that I just saw in a new exhibition at Bibliotheque National de la France BNF. Exhibition is called 70’ La Photographie Americaine. 320 photographes chosen from a collection of 3000 images are exposed.

To me, it was a moving and personal experience. I relived the lectures of Professor Kevin Stranberg at Wesleyan. Every image I saw, I remembered every comment that went with that image during those lectures. That is marked as my first introduction to photography but more importantly an introduction to America.

For those who remember this famous image, which was the cover of a book – Les Americains of Robert Frank, first published in Paris in 1959. It made the beginning of the exhibition. The French chose a Ralph Gibson’s image of a beautiful lady by the car as the cover of the press communication, I would however have preferred to see this image of a segregated bus as it speaks for actuality, but it did not make to the exhibition.




Exactly 50 years later since the first edition of Robert Frank’s “Les Americains”. In the year of 2008, we will welcome the first African American president of America. Today is the day that will change history.

Of all those seven and half years which I spent in America, I never was able to have an “American Dream”, however, some where in me flows the blood of America in blue and red stripes. It was in America, where I grew from an teenager to a 25 year old woman,

So to Kevin who taught me how to develop my first roll of film; to my dear friend Norman who initiated me to Jazz, and made me a missing member of “they might be giants”; to Jno Cook who taught me one can be a photographer and not taking any photos himself; to Lisa who apologized when her mom voted for George W. Bush; to the most beautiful Sandy who gave me the love I never deserved; to the architect who taught me how to weld; to Frank for his book lists and ginger chicken, to those who loved me but I did not love back, and to those who I loved but nevered loved me back; to all the photographers and non-photographers; all Americans and non-Americans, Jewish pals and non Jewish pals in this country; to all the blueberry muffins and bagels with cream cheese; to a nation with honor and dignity; to this piece of land who gave me courage, maturity, tolerance and hope.

I -- owe you--America ---a service.

So today is the day I will return this service.

… by casting my vote to –

Barrack OBAMA as the President of United States of America!

Evening of Novemeber 4th. 2008 Paris

a drop of rain - lyrics w/o tune

lift the bench in the park
i stack it, on my library card
time becomes a boat
floating -into the night
love- shut in the drawer
waiting for the tide
waiting for the tide to wash it away
grass grows taller 'n brushes against my legs
i run,
a drop of rain

open the elevator door
i tape it on to my bedroom window
faith becomes a cloud
dancing - into the sky
love - shut in the drawer
waiting for the moon
waiting for the moon to melt it open
streets are wider 'n grow faster than cars and bikes,
i hide,
a drop of rain

Vicky, Cristina and Bardem

Coming out of the Cinema, it was only 15h00, beautiful afternoon sunshine, still – “Thank God my Day is not yet wasted”.

The most awaited film of the month from Woody Allen, “Vicky, Cristina, Barcelona”, is somehow another disappointment regardless of an all-star team: Scarlette Johanson, Penelope Gruz, Javier Bardem. Since most people have seen the movie by now, I will not repeat the story for you again.

Set on the topic of “love” and “relationships”, the most ancient yet never old topic of all human history, the film brings you for a very plain vanilla type of ride.

After a real comeback with the flawless “Match Point” in 2005, we thought Woody is set for a new era in his career, but unfortunately, that was just an illusion or hallucination on my own part.

This time, tired of London, Mr. Woody turned to the romantic and sunny Spain for new inspiration. Every image of the picture was so golden, sunny, soft, sweet and beautiful I only wish he got some money from the Ministry of Tourism from Spain, because it was the most effective advertising I have ever seen with an all-star crew; everyone in the movie theater starts to dream of a perfect vacation in Spain as soon as the projector was turned on. If I weren’t so turned off by Gaudi, I would have felt the same thing, summer in Barcelona, wow! (For me to love Barcelona, they would have to erase all the building designed by Gaudi from that city, this is another topic which merits another discussion.)

To analyze movies with bullet points has become a hobby of mine. Here are the issues which contributed to the final effect of this caramelized sweet picture of our dear Woody.

1. No conflicts in the story line, it was just so plain, linear and predictable that “effortless” was the real word to describe the experience for the viewer and also the actors. Where is Woody’s usual interest in “money” and “social status”? This could have presented some conflict to the Vicky character: struggling between “money” /”stability” and “love”?

2. As much as I love Javier Bardem, especially for his killer “killer” performance in the recent “No country for old man”, he was actually a bad choice for the painter – Juan Antonio Gonzalez. Bardem’s appearance as a painter seems to have a real stretch considering what we remembered him from “No country for old man”, but he actually acts and the fact that he went to art school at some point to study painting maybe also contributed to an almost too convincing and sincere Spanish painter, who is talented, emotional, seductive yet true and honest. None of the lines by Woody appeared ironic and funny anymore. If Woody had any intention to make fun of artists and people in that social class, that did not happen at all. All one can feel is that the American finance guy is really boring and one should just fall in love with someone sensual like Juan. Plus living with Bardem and Penelope Cruz in a threesome in a beautiful house on a hill in Barcelona would just be all dreams come true. After all, everyone is just on vacation in Barcelona.

3. Scarlette Johansen does not act, but it was okay, she was still perfect for the role – young, dolly and blonde. But she was way too cool, just comes and goes.

4. Color of lighting actually some kind of a key, emotionally directs viewers in the story line. Did Woody lose his sight again? Exact same lighting through out the movie. Or was he try to manage some accidental success with the French again?

Okay, that is enough, less is more. To make things work, here are some suggestions:

A) Vicky needs to be another person, a bit more pale and less pretty. Between Scarlette and Penelope, Woody has got enough beauty on the “tournage”, plus that will give him some more time to actually work on his script.

B) Cristina, the one who thought she was free spirit and up for all adventures, eventually got caught up in a mess with Juan and Marie Helen and suffers. Vicky is the one who controls everything, chooses practical things – financial stableness, commitment, family over anything else; yet she is the one who actually has the ability to feel something. So the blonde vs. the brunette. The brave but actually weak vs. the rational but actually sensual.

C) Bardem has to go. We need someone a bit unsure, or an artist want to be, but lacks real talent. All his attempts to seduce could then be a bit funny. I can’t think of anyone that is latin looking. Okay, so we keep Bardem, but he then has to kill someone in the course of the story. How about Cristina, her personality needs a bit tragedy to it.


D) Oh God, why Barcelona? Make the film in China! There is a vast selection of both pathetic artists and stupid girls.

In conclusion, better toss this one up and write another story.

"Iron Circle" Besieged

My love for trains and railways finally brought me to my new residence inside the "Iron Circle", in Chinese "Huan Tie". Black Bridge village is surrounded by a perfectly round shaped railway track; it is used by the ministry of transportation to test trains before they are put into commercial use. Inside the "Iron Circle", we have a big farmer's market, corn fields, wheat fields, prune trees, many factories, art supply stores and everything that you can think of for living. The path to the outside world is often interrupted by this scene "The train is arriving, please stop and be careful...." ; there are 4 or 5 entrances/exits like this on the perfectly round circle. Security guards stand at the gates 24 hours a day.

This morning as I was waiting for my turn to cross one of these exits on my electric bike, I suddenly remembered these words repeated way too many times:

Mariage is a like a fortress besieged, those who are outside want to get in and those who are inside want to get out. * Isn't it true with life in general?

I wonder if I am protected from the rest of the world or prisoned inside my own castle of "Iron Circle". Is my new residence helping me to live more truthfully as a human being or merely putting me inside this big fortress besieged!?

* supposedly a French proverb, used as a title of Qian Zhongshu's novel - Fortress Beseiged published in the 1940s.

Let's go swimming 咱游泳去！ (住黑桥，说黑话，黑着良心开黑店 I )

At the entrance of Black Bridge village, you will see a big black sign as shown on the photo above, meaning “Black Bridge Swimming Pool”. After a quick nap at mid-day in the middle of August, I joined some friends who decided to go swimming together. We arrived in front of this big sign and found a small window which looked like a ticket office, but no one was there. A small muddy road led us to the back of the sign; a large metal creature which resembles a boiler greeted us with poise.

After 45 minutes walking in some even muddier roads, going through corn fields, wheat fields and being traced by very mean dogs at every corner of the road, we decided to stop and question the actual existence of this swimming pool.

In China, you have the privilege of having a sign and running a complete different business underneath or just not having a business at all but use this wall because you kinda need it.

But somehow, this felt like the ending of a horror movie from the 70s, I missed the entire film, here is the last part – This big black sign of the black bridge swimming pool, and blood coming through from the top of the wall, in the middle part first, dripping over the character “游” and then more blood coming through this wall, from the top, from the bottom, from both sides, and eventually flooding over the entire wall with strength and speed. 2 seconds later, the sun shines and here is what you see: (but who knows what will happen when the sun goes down)


Do not walk alone in the dark at Black Bridge Village!

Lightening Rod

Huge thunderstorms hit Beijing this evening. I actually never spent summer here in Beijing before, and cannot quiet figure out if this is normal, but lightening and the heavy rain is definitely real. The loudness of the raindrops is beyond what one can imagine. I found 5 leaking spots from the roof, my pots and pans are just enough to fill their evening shifts.

I start to question the technical aspects of the building structure, I thought a sculptor would be the right person to ask. I sent a text message to my neighbour cross the courtyard, an honored graduate from the Central Academy of Arts, and a student of the renowned Chinese sculptor Sui Jianguo.

"it is as steady as how it is built" his answer.

I suddenly remembered a great ancient invention which protects humans from hitting my lightening - the lightening rod. It is often found on old country houses in the south where I am from.

"do you think we have lightening rod installed here?" I just thought I would ask.

"the human body is a lightening rod!"

Two seconds later, I received an MMS, it was a happy fat little pig running across the woods, I was not certain if it was a way to relieve my tension or just to make fun of me. But one thing I can be sure is that this pig neither has the shape nor the functionality of a lightening rod.

Welcome to black bridge - a lightening rod free community!

Crossing the border

It has been eight months since I moved back to China. This move is the most incomplete and the least rational. I left an entire apartment filled with all my books, Cds, twenty something cameras and memories around the marble chimney, which can never be washed away by the drizzling rains of Paris. Here, I have 250 square meters in a new established artist village outside Beijing called Black Bridge, yet, I am not sure what to bring in…I keep buying plants, it might however take an entire forest to fill the place. Of course I have all the time to pick and choose, and in my suitcase I still have a return ticket to my Paris apartment.

Some people enjoy choices in life but I am one of those who should never been given any choices. I hated choosing dishes for lunch at boarding school and often had whatever appeared on the top of the blackboard; I hated choosing majors in University and eventually went to a school, which did not have majors; I didn’t know where to find a real job and ended up working for a company started with letter “A”. I once loved two boys but did not want to choose, one of them became dad today (no one told me but I know) and the other would not forgive me, my only way of getting news from him is to google his name.

The choice of city or not choosing a city of residence would probably lead to less dramatic consequences, but somehow my heart tells me that I am crossing the border, this time with no return!

Go China, Go Bloggers!

Questions of the day are:

- "How many gold medals today?"  

-"Your car is odd number?"

- "Can I go through Tiananmen tomorrow it is the Olympics closing?" 

As the whole world is glued to the TV for the past 10 days or so and the Chinese all taking pride in their atheletic achievements in this Olympics.  As a new resident of Beijing, questions of the day are:

1. "how many gold medals today?"

2. "Is your car odd number?"

3."Can I go through Tiananmen tomorrow since it will be the Olympics closing?"  The little bit of pride I can find is way over shadowed by all the inconveniences I have to deal everyday.

However, the best news to me ever this month is -

Blogspot is no longer blocked in CHINA!!!  ... after several painful years... someone was wise enough to understand that there is nothing to be blockked that cannot be unblocked somehow.

Welcome back Ana, and Go bloggers! 

One meter safari - Part I (Jaisalmeer)

I found the exact turban that I was looking for in a tourist shop near the Jain Temple, five meters of white cotton turban for the desert overnight safari coming up later in the evening.

If you see the me in the picture, you understand how one meter is measured in the part of the world. The distance nose and the tip of your fingers - convenient and elegant.

The friendly Shop Keeper (SK) asked the same old question, "Are you married"?

Ana: Of course! (i believed this was the only answer one should ever give being a single woman in this country)
SK: Me too!
Ana: Really? You look young.
SK: I just got married last week.
Ana: Congratulations! I just missed the wedding then.
SK: No wedding. Because my wife and I are from different casts, her family is rich, but me, no rich... but we love each other. but her family was chasing after me, brothers, cousins, they want to kill me...
Ana: What? What did you do?
SK: We ran away, from Jodhpur to Udaipur, from Udaipur to Jaipur, you know, we go everywhere... and the family always running after us.
Ana: What happened?
SK: Finally, i went to see the judge. Because I am 20 years old and my girlfriend 19, we are old enough to get married ...you know...
Ana: And...so you succeeded, that is so great!
SK's face filled with joy and happiness.
Ana: so where is your wife?
SK: she lives outside the fort...

I paid for my turban and was so taken by this beautiful love story at 9h30 in the morning.

SK: Would you like a Chai? I invite you for Chai!

I shaked my hands, but the shopkeeper showed determination on his face, I had to sat down again.

Here this 20 year old man just shared his life story and is treating me to a morning Chai.

Ana: hmmm.... actually I am not married. (out of guilt, I thought I had to tell the truth)
The shopkeeper just stepped to fetch the tea cup, i was not sure if she heard me.
SK: So, you are not married.
Ana, smile, making a baby face.
SK: Well, me neither!
Ana: What?! (I jumped out of my chair)
How could you lie like that?

SK with a witty smile on his face: Who lied first?

... should I be taken by his wit or just embarrassed by my own stupidity?

a blue house in the blue city - Jodhpur

I am staying in a blue house in the blue city- Jodhpur, probably the most typical city of Rajasthan. With some luck I found this guesthouse run by a real local, and more so, the whole family lives on the ground floor and first floor. 2nd and 3rd floor are converted to guestrooms. The roof top has an amazing view of the Fort and all the blue houses in the city.

Walking through the narrow city streets, I get lost almost every 5 minutes: market places, street scenes, spice shops, jewlery dealers, old buildings and colorful turbans...all suggest that i am in Aladdin.

We feel the desert heat, definitely a big change from Mount Abu. I also got to know a new creature called Desert Cooler. It is essentially a local cheap version of air conditioning, it functions as a big fan and cold water going through a big metal box behind the fan. It makes huge noises, but some how it does cool the rooms. With all the noise and size of the big metal box, it is hard to imagine that it would actually consume less electricity than a real airconditioning. Since his is what local people prefers, I trust that they make good choices.

Sometimes I wonder if the population of cows in a city of Jodhpur actually exceeds the population of human beings. They are everywhere, they eat a lot, they don't do anything, they shit everywhere. and more importantly they are HOLY. Indians believe all spirits of god reside in the body of cow, and so: if you pray to the cow, you pray to all gods. To bring convenience to the spiritual life of the people, the indians have done a great job!

This is a city where 60% habitants are Hindis and 30% Muslins. At dawn, we hear the chantting from Hindu temples and Muslin Mosques compete against each other. As Hindis are mostly vegetarians and certainly don't eat cows, I can not help wonder what happens when the cows actually die. Do muslims just eat them? And if they do, what would the Hindis feel? and if not, what are they going to do with that big chunk of meat?