Twinkle By Wenlan

Remember those necklaces you made out of chunky wooden pieces for your mother? They were terribly ugly – even when chunky was in – but she adored them nonetheless. Gifts that show an effort will always be appreciated; but gifts that show an effort AND make the recipient reach nirvana are hard to beat. With that, dim the lights, light your candles, grab massage oil or lotion and tell your sweetheart to wash those tootsies – thoroughly! – because Twinkle Made Easy lays out the basics of giving a knock-out foot massage.

Step One: A stroking motion helps warm up the foot and stimulate circulation. Wrap your hands around the foot and apply pressure with your thumbs, moving from the toes, over the arch, to the ankle. Reverse direction and repeat. Flex the foot and continue the stroking motion on the bottom of the foot.

Step Two: Pivoting can be very relaxing or extremely ticklish if not done properly! Start with your thumb on the sole of the foot, just below the big toe. Apply pressure and begin to roll your thumb back and forth. Lighten the pressure and move onto the next toe.

Step Three: To knead the foot, make a fist and press your knuckles into the sole in a rocking movement. Move your hand slowly from the heel to the toes and back.

Step Four: Let your fingers roam – applying pressure, walk your fingers and thumbs across the entire surface of the foot.

For the ticklish types, apply more pressure. Hopefully your darling will give you verbal feedback – as in ‘ooo’s and ‘aaahhh’s – so listen and take cues! Always finish on one foot before moving onto the second and if you find your hands cramping, shake them out between steps.

A slow paced massage will induce an out-of-body relaxation; a more fast-moving massage acts as a stimulator, leaving you to decide the mood for the rest of your Valentine’s Day evening.

Madeleine

The first time I knew of Tehching Hsieh was when I was in sixth grade, across the Atlantic Ocean in Taiwan, reading from the local newspaper about the work he did in New York. I was too young to understand why he worked as he did, yet I was trying to make sense out of it.

This is an artist who does not make art in the traditional sense, as his art is living, moving, breathing – his art is himself. Between 1978 and 1986, he made several one year performances. In the Cage Piece, he locked himself in a cage and spent a year in solitary confinement. One year he punched a worker’s time card every hour on the hour - Time Clock Piece. He spent one year completely outdoors without any shelter - Outdoor Piece. Rope Piece is when he tied himself to someone else for a year, making no physical contact. And No Art Piece is where he spent one year with no art in life.

In 1994 I started to know him as a friend. The first time I went to visit him in his basement apartment in Brooklyn, he showed me the edited video recording of Cage, Time Clock and Outdoor. Although I had to see the footage years after, and in an extremely compressed form, I was left speechless. Before he played the video, he had to leave me watching them alone as he did not want to watch them anymore.

He is, in my mind, one of the best artists of our time. He inspires me profoundly on every level. His work is meticulously passionate and epically mysterious. I often think his art, or life, is like being on deserted land - throw a small stone as hard as you can so that you feel its sharpness penetrating the air, and the stone goes so far, you cannot possibly imagine where it lands.

I only wish he is recognized more than what he has received. A few months ago, during my fashion show after party, he showed up holding a cane. He said it was from an old wound - his very first performance in his hometown when he jumped from the second story. I remembered when he told me this story years ago and we laughed.  At the party, he told me he is going to have an exhibition at MOMA and Guggenheim this year. I could not be more thrilled for him.

Tehching Hsieh’s website:
http://tehchinghsieh.com/

Coming exhibitions:
MOMA
Performance 1: Tehching Hsieh
January 21–May 18, 2009

Guggenheim New York
The Third Mind: American Artists Contemplate Asia, 1860–1989
January 30-April 19, 2009

Wenlan
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Bernard and I traveled to D.C. to attend the inauguration. Staying in the bitter cold for 5 hours, I ruminated on the recent global turmoil, although my thoughts ended with excitement, joy and hope.

This country is so different from 2 years ago when Obama started his campaign. Living in this special time makes me think of KU and KO from I Ching, Book of Changes. I sometimes try to see change through this old Chinese philosophical point of view. I Ching offers me an abstract view of a complicated situation. Sometimes I entertain myself with the surprise inspired by it. Often it gives me optimism during difficult times.

KU, in I Ching, is a stage when things are too progressively played and it becomes spoiled. When you find a worm in an apple, you know there will be more. KU represents decay that is not naturally so, but caused by letting wrong doing go uncorrected and therefore harming justice. It implies guilt and requires removal of the cause. KU very much paints the scene of the financial industry melt down. It forces us to see ourselves with absolute honesty so we can figure out how to repair the wounds.

The excitement of people from all over the world seeing the changes of our country is so overwhelmingly surprising. It’s then I truly realize how much people want this change. The change is often described as a new movement that enlightens and awakes us. It makes me think of KO. In I Ching, its original sense is a molting process of animal’s pelt. It’s a process of a dramatical change yet not so revolutionary that it will change the core or the spirit of the body. The transformation is called for its direst necessity and comes with no regret. It also indicates a beginning of a new era.

Some friends ask me to tell magical oracles when they know I study I Ching. That always makes me laugh. 3000 years ago, I Ching was sometimes used to interpret the future. The symbols of lines do have a mysterious indication. For those who are interested in learning this ancient world-view, I recommend Richard Wilhelm’s I Ching, published by Princeton University Press.

Wenlan

photo courtesy of Gene Burch, geneburch.com