It seems that I tend to start with apologizing (to myself) and explaining why I haven't been writing for _ amount of time. Let's skip that this time. To provide some basic context for this post, I've been in Prague for 2.5 days, attending a 2-week course called Make Art Here. It is, by definition, a course for sure. But honestly, I've been introducing it to my family and friends in terms of a trip-based workshop for a panel of people to make art together, and I think that is indeed pretty much it. At this very moment, I've just come back from the famous Charles Bridge at 11 pm. Admittedly, it was a bit too much for me to think of a narrative other than a chronological one initially. Still, I'll try to start with some more seminal matters. ART is some conduits that reflects, capture, and/or propose the ideal, spirit, view, desire, and/or status of a particular group and/or individual in a particular context , and serves (or not) the function, quality and/or purpose entailed by that context and beyond that context. Four years ago, when I debated with a schoolmate about whether Chinese calligraphy "书法" is art or not, I dared not define art (even just within the context of our discussion) but only referred to it as something overarching and ubiquitous; two years ago, I even dared not define music despite my entanglement with it; one year ago, I still dared not perceive myself as an art maker and constantly wrote phrases like "as a person who knows little about art" in my journal/repo, not to mention defining art. Magically, I did, for some reason, write the definition above in about five minutes during our first seminar yesterday. Instead of explaining each part of my tentative definition (which I may do sometime later), I would like to direct this discourse towards some observations of myself in the context of observing the surroundings and others. Then, maybe implicitly, I will be able to answer how come I managed to do so now. As you may or may not know from my writing before, I tend to struggle with issues like "the real," "authenticity," "sensation vs. analysis," "self-consciousness," etc. Obviously, the relationship with art is a decent part of those tensions. In fact, I cannot recall ever finding myself in those inquiries when dealing with technology or sports or other random fields of matters, but most likely whenever it comes to any art-related realms, ranging from poetry and music to beyond. That being said, I was in that spiral and abyss of constant self-questioning as an "artist" (aside from tangible accomplishment now and then). In fact, this is even the first time I deemed myself an "artist." Again, I once only dared to say I'm a guitarist, then a music producer, and then a musician in general; similarly, I went from a coder/programmer to a developer, a full-stack developer, and a digital/web designer. In a sense, it seems "natural" to come along this way and reach this point. On the other hand, just like one of the box exercises made by my classmate reminded me of "the path not taken," it is undeniably this city and this moment that entitled me to make that move, not to mention what's next. So, again, what could be the source of the magic? Was it the relaxation gained instantly after arriving at such a beautiful environment, after being "trapped in the middle of the desert for months, and experiencing a superbly adventurous journey? Was it the reunion with pen and paper and color and tape and cutting and assembling after saying farewell to modeling for five years? Was it this state of not being noticed or known in a foreign country, or the temporariness of both our activity as a class and as an individual in the city, that inadvertently released the burden and tension and the sense of judgment and self-judgment? Was it the reminder received to be porous? Was it the completely different political storytelling I encountered in a museum? Was it the thousand steps that forced me to be present while I also flew away without any sense of guilt? Was it the freedom to visit almost anywhere and customize my schedule after weeks of 16 hours of working every day? Was it the livelihood in those graffiti that crawls everywhere? Was it? Cliché enough, but it was a combination of all, let's say. Of course, there is so much more to do, to explore, to admire, and to realize. To be more specific, let's take the box exercise as an example again. (Well, maybe the following should fit in the archive for my box, but never mind.) As the prompt was, in my opinion, absolutely free; we've been reminded not to apologize in the course; and I did what I felt like; there is nothing wrong with "my part," with my id and ego. Meanwhile, the superego got something to say. Superego X still finds that box to be too distant and alienated from X himself, despite that this time, not only was the ontological concept played, but there was indeed some real-world inspiration and allusion made. Not to judge, but he would rather envy his classmates who can "freely" present the private and personal with the type of bravery he doubted if he had enough of. Oops, "sorry" but not for the shift in narrative. I found it helpful, and that's it. Maybe we've had enough intangible whimsies here; I'll try to be more tangible and eligible next time (or not XD).