Sun Yuan and Peng Yu use an industrial robot, visual-recognition sensors, and software systems in this work commissioned for the Guggenheim Museum to investigate our increasingly automated global reality, one in which territories are mechanically controlled and the relationship between people and machines is rapidly changing. Their robot, which is hidden behind transparent acrylic walls, has one job: to keep a viscous, deep-red liquid inside a predefined region. When the sensors indicate that the fluid has travelled too far, the arm scoops it back into position, creating smudges on the floor and splashes on the surrounding walls. (This was referenced on Guggenheim.org, and I summarized it.)
I was watching this on YouTube last night and didn't realize I was crying while watching it move. I know it is odd because it is just a machine, but if you are a close friend of mine, you'll know I am an emotional and sentimental person.
Even videos of newborns smiling, photos of a duck and a puppy that close to each other, or an old couple who are sweet and adorable, I'm telling you, I'll cry over it.
I love visiting art museums because gazing at paintings, especially abstract ones, calms me down. My Grandfather influenced me since he is so passionate about arts; we share almost all of our hobbies, favorites, beliefs and skills. Now you already know who the favorite SÅ«nnÇš is. (Sorry, cousins!)
I have the impression that I can sense the artist's emotions while they work on their masterpiece. I also like to add theory to the paintings I see and put them down in my journal along with a photo of it.
But this art is different. I can see my past self. That machine was me back then. It seems to be constantly cleaning up the bits of itself as it falls apart alone, an endless loop of misery while everyone watches it for entertainment. That's what I was thinking at the time.
I used to isolate myself from people because I thought no one understood me anymore. I am trying to keep all my problems to myself, despite the fact that they're already overflowing; I'd rather keep them than include others in my own mess. I thought I had everything under control, but I was wrong.
As time goes by, I've learned that suppressing on something hurts more than letting go. Just like this machine, it is like picking up the pieces into your pocket, but your pocket has a hole in it.
It is okay to be fragile. It is okay to not be okay. Trying to be fine can be tiring sometimes. Most of the times. It is a constant battle of doing meaningless tasks to make it in life while being stuck there, behind the transparent acrylic walls.
Just stay where you are for the time being. Rest is necessary. Don't rush things, and everything will become clear to you as time passes.
Hello, beautiful fellas!
I was just trying to put my sentiments into words so I could get them out of my head. I'm not sure whether this makes any sense. I'm completely drowsy right now.
Again, I'm grateful that you've stopped by to read my article. Let's catch up in the comments below. xoxo
Lead image via Guggenheim.org
Napanuod ko din to, di ko natapos kase baka maiyak lang ako ng sobra. It's a lifeless robot but then it makes me want to help it.