Dear K

K-san, arigatou. That was a good conversation. I was surprised at how consistently you recall different factors that relate to us, to our shared time in that city that we were both in, so, so long ago. Then again, ‘long ago’ is relative, isn’t it. I think four weeks ago or was it five, when we could go outside, here in Ho Chi Minh City, was a ‘long ago’ time, now. I’m kind of tired of being inside, but I guess that it’s safe and better than most places—Vietnam. They’ve probably got it, I’m pretty sure they do, and it’s not a good time to go flying around and ‘seeing the world’ now because, well. The virus is mutating. And that’s not a thing to go getting blasé about, is it. No, right. No.

The conversations continue, but to me, they look like this now. Art, at its best, is a conversation… ask me for the full quote. I had to write an artist statement some time or another so I went ahead and figured out the whole ‘noticing’ thing that I write about, over and over again, in the various zine blurbs under ‘Dipika Kohli’ at my online shop for S P A C E. (‘Mine?’ I call it ‘mine’ now? Well, I guess I do.) [deleted] I wanted it to be more collaborative, more co-created, but it’s hard to get to the point where you are able to work with someone in that kind of way. It’s so very, very intimate, you know?

So I’ve settled for working with, you know, found bits and pieces. Stuff from the internet, stuff from the world of people who put things on the internet for people like me to pick up and go, ‘why not put this in my zine,’ and so on. Well, yes. Yes, there’s more bricolaging to be done. It’s just more virtual now. [deleted]

Why not, then, why not enjoy making. In this new way. With what’s at hand. Thanks for reading all this eego. Ne.


To whom it may concern: Shop Dipika Kohli’s books and zines at: S P A C E | kismuth