Buddhist Delight
A meal I would often get at a Chinese restaurant was called a Buddhist Delight. I unfolded the carry-out container one day and was struck by the way the creases ressembled the design of Tibetan rugs. I then glued the rice I got with the meal to the container attempting to mimic the ornate quality of those rugs.
In beginning this piece, I realized there was a tremendous amount of irony in what I was doing. I have all these assumptions about Chinese culture which may or may not be correct. Many have been perpetuated by Chinese restaurants themselves. My goal was to overcome my misperceptions by working myself into an intense meditative state. I was trying to experience empathy with Buddhist monks when they reach a state of satori in making mandalas. I probably would have failed anyway but it was the irony of what I was doing that seemed to prevent me from reaching this state. The more I worked, the more contradictory the piece became. When I finished the piece I came to view the irony as a type of meditation. A clearity was reached where it was impossible to gain any more insight into what I was doing or thinking.
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