Anemia: To Reflect an Intimate Part of the Red

Hidden in one corner of Singapore’s Museum of Arts and Science, visitors can find Anish Kapoor’s “To Reflect an Intimate Part of the Red”. In a large room, visitors will meet five disparate shapes of red and yellow saturated pigment splattered on the wooden paneled floor.

When I first stepped into the room, the slick flesh on my bones loosened slowly. My red blood cells had finally given in and decidedly had stopped flowing an appropriate amount of oxygen to my nervous system. Dizzied, I fought back the tears from the overwhelming visceral sensation. I stood in this empty room with my five inanimate yet very intimate friends.

Of course, I saw the richness of my friends, particularly my yellow amigo. However, I also felt a vast emptiness surrounding us. The shadows of pigment around the figures outlined what was lacking. The expectation of “more” beyond what was there supplanted my usual emboldened optimism.

In my mind, these were fallen fruits from a tree that was now nearly barren. In a similar fashion, my otherwise healthy, lithe, athletic body, was anemic lacking the appropriate amount of red blood cells and b-12 to occupy its rented space and provide energy for all the fantastic activities I wanted to pursue.

I was staring into a mirror. As an overbearing onlooker, I urged my reflection to take another stretch or perhaps build up enough energy for another geometric space to iceberg up to the surface and join us. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not in that empty room and certainly not in my body.

In that moment, I was facing the truth and acknowledging the paradox that this art and my organs were in conflict with the space it occupied but in a very beautiful and nearly elegant way. You see, the deeper I engaged, the geometric shapes began to grow and mold itself then expand and expose the richness behind the paradox.

I realized that what is there is just as important as what is not there and this is where the art of strategy comes into play. With limited resources, one can be at once limited yet a champion at the same time, as they are not dependent upon one another.

Anish’s five geometric shapes represent something very practical in my life (not the intent but that’s the unusual beauty of art). This exhibit is a representation and dedication to a few passions over multitudes of interests and opportunities. To accepting that one cannot have it all but we can make concessions and be patient with ourselves. In this game, the figures represent the bishops that create an endless sea of possibilities and tactics to accompany our strategies. To engaging in rich and beautiful friendships that elevate with each interaction and cultivate into a kaleidoscope of rich pigmentation in varying shades of kindness and selflessness.

I humbly accept that as a human being, I am limited by my body, mind, and organs. However, I will dedicate myself to work towards something bigger and manifests into “more” than empty space.