In Progress

by Phuong Minh Huynh

Pages 2 and 3 of 12

IN PROGRESS
ENCOUNTERS
Through Art, Ethnography and Pedagogy
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Memories of the 
Net-Work in Metochi.
With contributions from the course participants.

Made by 
Phuong Minh Huynh
2022
Thought Bubble
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Skala Kalloni, filmed by Katrine
"For the net-work, I sewed a leaf on a fabric. I have never sewed a natural thing on a man-made material before, so the experience was new and fun.

It took me about 20 minutes to get it done, and my work lasted for about two days. Then the leaf dried out and my work was ruined.

Now that I think about it, I realized it is not an easy thing to preserve nature on an artificial platform. Because nature is bigger than all of us, and we have to accept the flow of nature, just like accepting the tide. I think my work was a good reflection of that.

Anyway, thank you for giving me the opportunity to contribute to your project. "
Gabby
...
...
...
...
I once had a person in my life, an important one. ...
They wanted to give me a necklace as a gift for Christmas. ...

“Oh thanks, but next time remember that I don’t wear necklaces”, ...
I said teasingly. 
They're
not here
anymore.

The pick is. 
I don't wear it.
I just carry it with me
- no chains.

Still, I "pick" you.
I also carry those memories.
The first song
I played on my guitar.  

Maybe I shouldn’t?
I was trying to represent something.

I see plants as working together so I put a few in one spot and separated one. The lone plant was conveying my sense of feeling alone or separated from community, looking on at the others in the group.

I remember doing this quite vividly because I was surprised at how it happened. I walked over to see if I might want to put something on there, and I saw a large group of you all knitting and working. And I remember feeling a little sad. I couldn't figure out how to shake it, I guess. So I saw the plant and formed the idea. 

It seems to be more than a memory. It's a sensation I still feel when I think of those plants on the net. It comes in waves. Even the memory of the texture of those leaves makes me wonder why I felt that way. I might not even remember it correctly, as it happened. But I guess that's what a memory is. Just a bridge back to a place I can't visit again.
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