 |
| sam seen |
- 1992 graduated from M.I.A (Malaysian Institute of Art), Malaysia
- awarded the grand prize in poetry (2003, Taiwan),
- awarded the 1st prize in comic competition (2003, Malaysia)
- finalist of THE GOLDEN BUTTERFLY AWARD:
BEST ASIA BOOK COVER DESIGN 2005
- a COMPASS (Singapore) member
- a singer/songwriter and the vocalist of a chinese rock band: Prost
- songs were selected for Singapore movie {Eating Air} soundtrack,and some rock compilation in Singapore and Malaysia,performed in Singapore and Malaysia from 1997 to present
- an awarded chinese poet, writer, cartoonist.
- 1995-2007 advertishing agencies’ art director
- has published 3 books: Take Light as Food (poetry), Strait of Johore (short stories), China X'perience (graphic novel)
- currently stay in Manila, Philippine
www.samseen.multiply.com
www.myspace.com/samseenmusic
email: seensca@yahoo.com
Solo Art Exibition:
<INVERTED>,9-21 May 2008
WHITEBOX GALLERY, Cubao Expo, Manila, Phllipines.
<Glimpse of The Eden (that's once was)> 6th-15th January 2009
Bahay Nakpil-Bautista Museum
432A Bautista Street, Quiapo, Manila, Philippines.
Group Exibition:
1998 <Contemporary Art Show>, Johor, Malaysia
2007 September 24th, <Art Heals>, (VMMC)
Veteran’s Memorial Medical Center, Quezon City, Philippines
2007 December 8th <60th AAP Art Competetion show>, CCP, Philippines
Sam Seen's COMIC CV:
- awarded the 1st prize in comic competition (2003, ORIENTAL DAILY,Malaysia)
- DICACO 2007 & 2008 , KOREA, Honorable Mentions
- China (Jia Xing) International Comic Exhibition 2009
- Zhong Xue Sheng Magazine comic competetion, Malaysia, 1989, 2 art works were awarded
-finalist of THE GOLDEN BUTTERFLY AWARD (TAIWAN): 10 BEST ASIA BOOK COVER DESIGN 2005
Comic were published/Shown in:
SINGAPORE: SINGAPORE GREATEST COMIC (Chuang Yi’s publication)
THAILANd: MUD, issue 2.
USA: SINGAPORE GREATEST COMIC (Century’s publication)
MALAYSIA: JIAO FENG LITERATURE MAGAZINE, issue 496-499
KOREA: DICACO 2007 & 2008 comic exhibition
China (Jia Xing) International Comic Exhibition 2009
PHILIPPINE: SIX WORDS STORY (Book Cover)
And some cartoon/cartoon strip were published in Singapore and Malaysia Chinese newspaper since 1990 till present.
2nd Graphic Novel: THE OTHER SIDE, will be published soon in 2009.
++++++++++++++++++++
my poems (in Mandarin)
一日将尽
---献给C
--- 掩上窗户、储物室的门，
将白色的帘解下，
将床铺得均匀似晚霞；
你调校电视机的角度、
音量、通常这个时候
我在刷牙在洗手在
换睡衣，准备上床 ---
--- 一日将尽。
我正想阅读，你的手
自被窝绕过到我背脊，
写 --- 总是我们
的名字、邂逅的日期、交合
的日子、蜜月的地点---
这么多年，你经已掌握了我
的视线从书本上移开的法子，
你知道怎么把我的视线引入
要我阅读终日抵达的就是这里。
阅读教我自别处大厦逃回
自己的被窝。直到我看见你
在冬夜带来一张棉被一双手：
我发现极度需要
一本阅读不尽的书。
我把自己的所见所闻
放到你手心。你知道我的意愿，
把它们写到我背脊。你是我
见过最伟大的作者，你是我
见过最真诚的读者。我将穷一生
阅读你、岁月，阅读每一天
的风、风中的一对麻雀：汉字
于扉页的镜中之镜折射
万千投影，在南方
阅读先人北方的家书；字迹
与面容交错，模糊，空茫；掩上
祖屋的窗户、储物室的门 ---
--- 一日将尽。
我正想开始阅读，你的手
自马六甲海峡迁至南中国海，移开
我手中的书、铅笔；钻入
我的睡衣、我们的身体
31-12-2002 写于香港，19-6-2003 修于新加坡
a day is ending - by Sam Seen
- for C
--- close the windows, storeroom door,
draw the white curtains
smooth the bed like the evening sky;
you adjust the angle of the TV set,
its volume, usually at this time
I brush my teeth, wash my hands
change into my pyjamas, prepare for bed --- ---
a day is ending.
i was about to read, your hand
emerged round the duvet, curling round my back, writing --- insistently our names, dates of rendezvous, days of intimacy, honeymoon places --- all these years, you have already grasped me,
how my eyes swept from these books
you knew how to direct my eyes;
where I ought to read, to arrive at, was there reading drove me from high towers back to my duvet.
until I saw you on a winter’s eve- bringing a cotton duvet, a pair of hands:
i discovered my desperate need
for a book that would never end.
i placed all that i had saw and heard on your palm. you knew my volitions, penning them on my back. you are the greatest author i’ve ever known; you are the most sincere reader.
i will exhaust a lifetime
reading you, time, reading
the wind each day; in the wind a pair of sparrows: words on the pages bounce off mirrors in mirrors
a myriad of images, reading the letters of ancestors from the north; words and faces intersect, blur, empty out; close the windows of our ancestral home, the storeroom door ---
--- a day is ending.
i was about to begin reading, your hand moved from the Straits of Malacca to the South China Seas, removing the book, the pencil, from my hand; digging into my pyjamas, our bodies
original written in Chinese on 31 Dec 2002 in Hong Kong; amended in Singapore on 19 June 2003, and won the grand prize in LianHeBao Award 2003, Taiwan
translated into English on 11 March 2004 by Chiu Wei Li周伟立and Ang E-Ern汪意恩.
地雷 － 冼文光
似一个久埋的地雷
横着十年光阴；
我不信，可能是个伪作。
跟她仍有书信来往，她说话
辛辣；我不想与她辩。她说
她在养病，内文并无落款，
她字秀逸；说，是君子的何不成人之美？
又说我写的，跟日本俳句有几分似。
我不知哪些是真的。
我补充几句；琢磨琢磨，
惊讶自己的冷漠。
眨眼十年，说的是怎么怎么
挣钱；说我是怎么没有她的心；
说新山是贼、强盗和悍匪的世界－－－
哪个说法更接近事实？一来二去：
很快就知她又要跟我借钱。
我记得那场景：
她没有菩萨心肠，不随便施舍
一滴水。我咬着唇，半晌，
转身不看她的哭
26/10/2005
Landmine - by Sam Seen
Like a landmine long buried ten years have lapsed; I can't believe it, it could be a fake.
We still exchange letters, she speaks caustically; I'm not arguing with her. She claims she's recuperating, she doesn't sign off her letters, her handwriting is elegant; she says, ought not a gentleman like me oblige her wishes?
Adds that my writing is haiku-like.
I don't know which part is true.
I added a few lines; pondering,
shocked by my iciness.
Ten years flew by, we chatted about how to make big bucks; about how she wasn't in my heart; how Johore Bahru is a den of thieves, bandits and hooligans — Which is closer to the truth? To and forth: soon I realized she wants a loan.
I remember the scene: she hasn't the heart of a bodhisattva,
doesn't part freely with things, not even a drop of water. For a long moment, I bit my lips,my back turned to her, avoiding her tears
第 25 小时 － 冼文光
是抽像，还是逻辑
的意像：倘若你不在，
厕垫不会老是被放下，
放下到这对话的平台：
但愿谁都没有曲解那符号、
设想，而达到笔直的目的。
沉默或是淡然一笑，
审美的品味与格调。
有限地沉睡，在无限的
分秒之床。日夜，夜日，
撑开我眼帘；床托着我
身体与房间。一只流浪狗
自秒针之尖沿把我们叨走
天空。沙漠。水。山岳。丛林。
唯一给兽群显现的是那种纯粹：
无色彩，无反差；丝毫不给人
留下想像的空间。视角。片断。
点。整体。瞬间。注视这些图，
它们得站到被人们遗弃的地点。
"应当进入，不管到什么程度。"
窗台边夜雨漏泄，不断滴
滴答答掉入红色的塑胶桶：
劫夺晚间得来不易的幽冥。
谁不是在等待运气
登门：擦身而过或选择我们，
作为趋向死亡的物体：你我
继续于时间内膨胀，或未曾
正式诞生－－－
25th Hour - by Sam Seen
is it an abstraction, or a logical
image: if you weren't here, the toilet seat wouldn't be lowered,
lowered to a platform for dialogue:
let's hope we haven't misconstrued that symbol, that thought, yet reached our straightforward aim.
Silence, or a subtle smile, of aesthetic taste, sheer elegance
Limited sleep on the bed, minutes and seconds are limitless. Day and night, night and day, straining to raise my eyelids; the bed sustains my body and the room.
A wandering dog balancing on the tip of the second hand, took us away.
Sky. Desert. Water. Mountain. Woods.
Only a certain purity reveals the wild life:
Without colour, nor constrast; nothing left to the imagination.
Perspectives. Snapshots. Dot. Entirety. Split-second. Examine these images,
They are abandoned in a forgotten corner.
'Ought to enter, to whatever extent.'
Evening rain seeps in through the window pane, dripping ceaselessly into a red plastic pail: denying the precious tranquility.
Who isn't waiting for fortune to knock on the door: whisks past us or chooses us,
We are entities that tend towards death:
You and I, gradually bloated through time, or perhaps we aren't even officially born ---
Beijing’s Virgin Snow, 2002 - sam seen
--- These days I can’t forget
Ten fingers, the interiors of feet
laced with icicles, empty on the inside
Men resembling farmers gather for warmth; the public bus
arrives, doves turn leisurely amongst the branches
the white smoke chokes some county in this state.
Imprints my soles on this Beijing’s virgin snows
No one understands my Nanyang features
They are so eye-catching
The plain scenic view encompasses her history, culture
Once alighted, shed an outer layer of skin immediately
Underneath my face is a void.
One-way and circuit subway tracks that are parsimonious
Wandering men searching for gazes everywhere
examining new irises. My
stomach opens, the cold air inside this San Li Tun area
Snowflakes dyed themselves yellow under the streetlights
for a second; tomorrow they will read the winter
that is me left-over memories and dead bodies.
These days I can’t forget, like yesterday’s you
and your warmth. The winter that we thought we imagined
seems like a small nagging pain in the past --- the first menstruation,
the moment of a wet dream; but we had missed them
We’ve matured after a passing tropical rain
“Winter is cold, snowflakes are beautiful.” I said.
These days I can’t forget, like yesterday’s you.
I don’t want to recall these days when I remembered
you and those words I told you: we have erred.
Original written in Chinese on 18-12-2002 in Bangkok
Translated into English by Tan Hua Biao on 2-6-2004
Bangkok Sounds - sam seen
Three days, in Bangkok, the last day
I walked towards the market, opposite
some bus stop turning, stole a glance from used-item girl:
nodding. smiling. cupped hands. I do not desire
too much time for slumber. Bangkok. Fair weather.
On a Tut Tut along that narrow river path
a wooden boat slide past, both sides passengers
sit quietly in a single file; some wipe away the water droplets, some
rest with eyes shutted; over the wooden ladder, onboard, onshore;
the Tut Tut and wooden boat each has passengers with clear directions
except me, leaning on the railings imagining a traveler
playing different possible roles and a foreign romance
On the way back, I stood to admire
the girl leaning against a pillar pressing her ears
listening to a small radio. Tossed a few coins
jukebox vomits out: “One Night In Bangkok”.
She discovers me standing there, her body
as if making a sound – I rush urgently towards
the gushing traffic flow, just to elucidate that sound
The girl waves her hand, as if to communicate
but whatever she says even she says I can’t understand
--- whole-heartedly I wish to become the gliding wooden boat
carrying the girl’s body, carrying
the sounds within her body
Original written in Chinese on 7-9-2003 in Bangkok
Translated into English by Tan Hua Biao on 2-6-2004
- awarded the grand prize in poetry (2003, Taiwan),
- awarded the 1st prize in comic competition (2003, Malaysia)
- finalist of THE GOLDEN BUTTERFLY AWARD:
BEST ASIA BOOK COVER DESIGN 2005
- a COMPASS (Singapore) member
- a singer/songwriter and the vocalist of a chinese rock band: Prost
- songs were selected for Singapore movie {Eating Air} soundtrack,and some rock compilation in Singapore and Malaysia,performed in Singapore and Malaysia from 1997 to present
- an awarded chinese poet, writer, cartoonist.
- 1995-2007 advertishing agencies’ art director
- has published 3 books: Take Light as Food (poetry), Strait of Johore (short stories), China X'perience (graphic novel)
- currently stay in Manila, Philippine
www.samseen.multiply.com
www.myspace.com/samseenmusic
email: seensca@yahoo.com
Solo Art Exibition:
<INVERTED>,9-21 May 2008
WHITEBOX GALLERY, Cubao Expo, Manila, Phllipines.
<Glimpse of The Eden (that's once was)> 6th-15th January 2009
Bahay Nakpil-Bautista Museum
432A Bautista Street, Quiapo, Manila, Philippines.
Group Exibition:
1998 <Contemporary Art Show>, Johor, Malaysia
2007 September 24th, <Art Heals>, (VMMC)
Veteran’s Memorial Medical Center, Quezon City, Philippines
2007 December 8th <60th AAP Art Competetion show>, CCP, Philippines
Sam Seen's COMIC CV:
- awarded the 1st prize in comic competition (2003, ORIENTAL DAILY,Malaysia)
- DICACO 2007 & 2008 , KOREA, Honorable Mentions
- China (Jia Xing) International Comic Exhibition 2009
- Zhong Xue Sheng Magazine comic competetion, Malaysia, 1989, 2 art works were awarded
-finalist of THE GOLDEN BUTTERFLY AWARD (TAIWAN): 10 BEST ASIA BOOK COVER DESIGN 2005
Comic were published/Shown in:
SINGAPORE: SINGAPORE GREATEST COMIC (Chuang Yi’s publication)
THAILANd: MUD, issue 2.
USA: SINGAPORE GREATEST COMIC (Century’s publication)
MALAYSIA: JIAO FENG LITERATURE MAGAZINE, issue 496-499
KOREA: DICACO 2007 & 2008 comic exhibition
China (Jia Xing) International Comic Exhibition 2009
PHILIPPINE: SIX WORDS STORY (Book Cover)
And some cartoon/cartoon strip were published in Singapore and Malaysia Chinese newspaper since 1990 till present.
2nd Graphic Novel: THE OTHER SIDE, will be published soon in 2009.
++++++++++++++++++++
my poems (in Mandarin)
一日将尽
---献给C
--- 掩上窗户、储物室的门，
将白色的帘解下，
将床铺得均匀似晚霞；
你调校电视机的角度、
音量、通常这个时候
我在刷牙在洗手在
换睡衣，准备上床 ---
--- 一日将尽。
我正想阅读，你的手
自被窝绕过到我背脊，
写 --- 总是我们
的名字、邂逅的日期、交合
的日子、蜜月的地点---
这么多年，你经已掌握了我
的视线从书本上移开的法子，
你知道怎么把我的视线引入
要我阅读终日抵达的就是这里。
阅读教我自别处大厦逃回
自己的被窝。直到我看见你
在冬夜带来一张棉被一双手：
我发现极度需要
一本阅读不尽的书。
我把自己的所见所闻
放到你手心。你知道我的意愿，
把它们写到我背脊。你是我
见过最伟大的作者，你是我
见过最真诚的读者。我将穷一生
阅读你、岁月，阅读每一天
的风、风中的一对麻雀：汉字
于扉页的镜中之镜折射
万千投影，在南方
阅读先人北方的家书；字迹
与面容交错，模糊，空茫；掩上
祖屋的窗户、储物室的门 ---
--- 一日将尽。
我正想开始阅读，你的手
自马六甲海峡迁至南中国海，移开
我手中的书、铅笔；钻入
我的睡衣、我们的身体
31-12-2002 写于香港，19-6-2003 修于新加坡
a day is ending - by Sam Seen
- for C
--- close the windows, storeroom door,
draw the white curtains
smooth the bed like the evening sky;
you adjust the angle of the TV set,
its volume, usually at this time
I brush my teeth, wash my hands
change into my pyjamas, prepare for bed --- ---
a day is ending.
i was about to read, your hand
emerged round the duvet, curling round my back, writing --- insistently our names, dates of rendezvous, days of intimacy, honeymoon places --- all these years, you have already grasped me,
how my eyes swept from these books
you knew how to direct my eyes;
where I ought to read, to arrive at, was there reading drove me from high towers back to my duvet.
until I saw you on a winter’s eve- bringing a cotton duvet, a pair of hands:
i discovered my desperate need
for a book that would never end.
i placed all that i had saw and heard on your palm. you knew my volitions, penning them on my back. you are the greatest author i’ve ever known; you are the most sincere reader.
i will exhaust a lifetime
reading you, time, reading
the wind each day; in the wind a pair of sparrows: words on the pages bounce off mirrors in mirrors
a myriad of images, reading the letters of ancestors from the north; words and faces intersect, blur, empty out; close the windows of our ancestral home, the storeroom door ---
--- a day is ending.
i was about to begin reading, your hand moved from the Straits of Malacca to the South China Seas, removing the book, the pencil, from my hand; digging into my pyjamas, our bodies
original written in Chinese on 31 Dec 2002 in Hong Kong; amended in Singapore on 19 June 2003, and won the grand prize in LianHeBao Award 2003, Taiwan
translated into English on 11 March 2004 by Chiu Wei Li周伟立and Ang E-Ern汪意恩.
地雷 － 冼文光
似一个久埋的地雷
横着十年光阴；
我不信，可能是个伪作。
跟她仍有书信来往，她说话
辛辣；我不想与她辩。她说
她在养病，内文并无落款，
她字秀逸；说，是君子的何不成人之美？
又说我写的，跟日本俳句有几分似。
我不知哪些是真的。
我补充几句；琢磨琢磨，
惊讶自己的冷漠。
眨眼十年，说的是怎么怎么
挣钱；说我是怎么没有她的心；
说新山是贼、强盗和悍匪的世界－－－
哪个说法更接近事实？一来二去：
很快就知她又要跟我借钱。
我记得那场景：
她没有菩萨心肠，不随便施舍
一滴水。我咬着唇，半晌，
转身不看她的哭
26/10/2005
Landmine - by Sam Seen
Like a landmine long buried ten years have lapsed; I can't believe it, it could be a fake.
We still exchange letters, she speaks caustically; I'm not arguing with her. She claims she's recuperating, she doesn't sign off her letters, her handwriting is elegant; she says, ought not a gentleman like me oblige her wishes?
Adds that my writing is haiku-like.
I don't know which part is true.
I added a few lines; pondering,
shocked by my iciness.
Ten years flew by, we chatted about how to make big bucks; about how she wasn't in my heart; how Johore Bahru is a den of thieves, bandits and hooligans — Which is closer to the truth? To and forth: soon I realized she wants a loan.
I remember the scene: she hasn't the heart of a bodhisattva,
doesn't part freely with things, not even a drop of water. For a long moment, I bit my lips,my back turned to her, avoiding her tears
第 25 小时 － 冼文光
是抽像，还是逻辑
的意像：倘若你不在，
厕垫不会老是被放下，
放下到这对话的平台：
但愿谁都没有曲解那符号、
设想，而达到笔直的目的。
沉默或是淡然一笑，
审美的品味与格调。
有限地沉睡，在无限的
分秒之床。日夜，夜日，
撑开我眼帘；床托着我
身体与房间。一只流浪狗
自秒针之尖沿把我们叨走
天空。沙漠。水。山岳。丛林。
唯一给兽群显现的是那种纯粹：
无色彩，无反差；丝毫不给人
留下想像的空间。视角。片断。
点。整体。瞬间。注视这些图，
它们得站到被人们遗弃的地点。
"应当进入，不管到什么程度。"
窗台边夜雨漏泄，不断滴
滴答答掉入红色的塑胶桶：
劫夺晚间得来不易的幽冥。
谁不是在等待运气
登门：擦身而过或选择我们，
作为趋向死亡的物体：你我
继续于时间内膨胀，或未曾
正式诞生－－－
25th Hour - by Sam Seen
is it an abstraction, or a logical
image: if you weren't here, the toilet seat wouldn't be lowered,
lowered to a platform for dialogue:
let's hope we haven't misconstrued that symbol, that thought, yet reached our straightforward aim.
Silence, or a subtle smile, of aesthetic taste, sheer elegance
Limited sleep on the bed, minutes and seconds are limitless. Day and night, night and day, straining to raise my eyelids; the bed sustains my body and the room.
A wandering dog balancing on the tip of the second hand, took us away.
Sky. Desert. Water. Mountain. Woods.
Only a certain purity reveals the wild life:
Without colour, nor constrast; nothing left to the imagination.
Perspectives. Snapshots. Dot. Entirety. Split-second. Examine these images,
They are abandoned in a forgotten corner.
'Ought to enter, to whatever extent.'
Evening rain seeps in through the window pane, dripping ceaselessly into a red plastic pail: denying the precious tranquility.
Who isn't waiting for fortune to knock on the door: whisks past us or chooses us,
We are entities that tend towards death:
You and I, gradually bloated through time, or perhaps we aren't even officially born ---
Beijing’s Virgin Snow, 2002 - sam seen
--- These days I can’t forget
Ten fingers, the interiors of feet
laced with icicles, empty on the inside
Men resembling farmers gather for warmth; the public bus
arrives, doves turn leisurely amongst the branches
the white smoke chokes some county in this state.
Imprints my soles on this Beijing’s virgin snows
No one understands my Nanyang features
They are so eye-catching
The plain scenic view encompasses her history, culture
Once alighted, shed an outer layer of skin immediately
Underneath my face is a void.
One-way and circuit subway tracks that are parsimonious
Wandering men searching for gazes everywhere
examining new irises. My
stomach opens, the cold air inside this San Li Tun area
Snowflakes dyed themselves yellow under the streetlights
for a second; tomorrow they will read the winter
that is me left-over memories and dead bodies.
These days I can’t forget, like yesterday’s you
and your warmth. The winter that we thought we imagined
seems like a small nagging pain in the past --- the first menstruation,
the moment of a wet dream; but we had missed them
We’ve matured after a passing tropical rain
“Winter is cold, snowflakes are beautiful.” I said.
These days I can’t forget, like yesterday’s you.
I don’t want to recall these days when I remembered
you and those words I told you: we have erred.
Original written in Chinese on 18-12-2002 in Bangkok
Translated into English by Tan Hua Biao on 2-6-2004
Bangkok Sounds - sam seen
Three days, in Bangkok, the last day
I walked towards the market, opposite
some bus stop turning, stole a glance from used-item girl:
nodding. smiling. cupped hands. I do not desire
too much time for slumber. Bangkok. Fair weather.
On a Tut Tut along that narrow river path
a wooden boat slide past, both sides passengers
sit quietly in a single file; some wipe away the water droplets, some
rest with eyes shutted; over the wooden ladder, onboard, onshore;
the Tut Tut and wooden boat each has passengers with clear directions
except me, leaning on the railings imagining a traveler
playing different possible roles and a foreign romance
On the way back, I stood to admire
the girl leaning against a pillar pressing her ears
listening to a small radio. Tossed a few coins
jukebox vomits out: “One Night In Bangkok”.
She discovers me standing there, her body
as if making a sound – I rush urgently towards
the gushing traffic flow, just to elucidate that sound
The girl waves her hand, as if to communicate
but whatever she says even she says I can’t understand
--- whole-heartedly I wish to become the gliding wooden boat
carrying the girl’s body, carrying
the sounds within her body
Original written in Chinese on 7-9-2003 in Bangkok
Translated into English by Tan Hua Biao on 2-6-2004
Personal Info
| Name | Sam Seen |
| Date of birth | 1970-07-19 |
| Country | Singapore |
| Website | www.samseen.multiply.com, |
| member since | June 04, 2008 |
Professional Info
| Education | Malaysian Institute of Art (MIA) |
sam seen's open diary
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