ramblin' wo-man...

I want to tell you so much about this fantastical place. . .

the sounds. . .

the smells (which aren't always good, mind you)

the sights. . .

the people. . .

the things I am ridiculous about. . .

I just don't know how. . .as always, the necessary words escape me (but when I find myself talking about something unimportant and silly, I have too many words)--nature is a cruel she-devil.

I liken myself to this. . .have you ever been walking down the street, the sidewalk, or the park, and find yourself behind a pigeon. The pigeon is walking ahead of you, and suddenly senses you behind him. . .he falters in his steps. . .he goes left. . .he goes right. . .he pauses. . .he walks really fast. . .he slows down. . .he tries to determine, which direction is out of your way. . .and then he sees a bread crumb, and forgets you were ever even there. . .and then you step on him, because you never even noticed him (okay, that last bit was just to amuse myself)

in truth. . .i'm that pigeon. I am overwhelmed by all the possibilities, and I never know which direction to go.

Life in general overwhelms me. I think it is a miraculous thing, and as many times as I wish to be done with it because it scares the hell out of me, I am so glad I am still here.

But being in Korea. . .well I am even more bewildered by life, and I am so thankful for it. I am amazed every day. It's not to say that life back in the states didn't amaze me all the time. I mean, how does that man on the side of the street boil peanuts to such perfection? and how does the mail man/woman get all the mail to us by a certain time every day? I don't know! These are some of life's many mysteries. . .

From a girl in the state of wonderment over life's simplicity, you can imagine that Korea presents even more fascinating dilemmas. . .

Toilet tissue has been issue for me. . .perhaps because I don't own a car, and I don't want to haul a 20 pack of tissue 2 miles. Furthermore, who--living on her own--needs 20 roles of toilet tissue?? Thankfully, my company set me up with a couple of rolls, but it is getting dangerously close to the end of those roles. Also, I constantly wonder if I can flush said toilet tissue down the the toilet. . .Korea isn't known for its septic system, and so many places ask that you kindly dispose of toilet tissue in the receptacle located to the right of the toilet. This doesn't bother me too much, many countries are this way. . .but I wonder, who's system am I messing up if I accidentally flush my toilet tissue down my toilet. . .after all, I've been known to drink some adult beverages from time to time. . .

My thoughts are definitely broader than this. . .I mean I spent all of yesterday wandering the Seouman Market with two beautiful friends, and came across an array of delightful things. . .again, with the smells, the sights, and the sounds. . .I want you to feel the experience, but words don't do it justice. . .regardless. . .here is my go at it. . .

It is warm out--a good 80 degrees Fahrenheit, with a soft breeze. This breeze offers the smell of vegetables ripening on a windowsill with a hint of garbage and sewage, but you find yourself softening to it. . .you wander down the warming street. The crowd is becoming dense, people bump you and nudge you, and there are sounds of vendors tempting you to buy their goods but the words are foreign. . .however, there is a rhythm to it, and you are comforted by it. You see a bend in the street up ahead, you know by the crowd of the people you must turn right, and so you do. There, before you, is a mass of colorful umbrellas and people. . .the smell hits you like a summer county fair. . .but you aren't smelling funnel cakes and pork products. . .it is a myriad of fish smells. . .shell fish to trout. . .nothing rotting but definitely baking in the hot sun. Sweat from folks mingles with the fish as well as the musky sense of diesel and gas from the cars. You make your way down the street, bewitched by the sights of octopus and snails. . .enchanted by the hand painted pots. . .delighted by the yards of colorful fabrics. People swish, food sizzles, and life permeates. You wander. . .you gaze. . .you laugh. . .too intimidated to purchase a thing, until you come across that one thing you must have. . .and then you figure it out. . .

That's the best I can do. It was an amazing day. I finished it up with Indian food and good conversation.

And today, was no exception. My students are amazing. . .they make me crazy, but the things they accomplish inspire me. . .the fact that they can read english, and not only read it but answer some pretty hard questions regarding the universe and memory (because I'm that kind of teacher) astounds me.

Needless to say I am lucky. I am fascinated. I am blessed. Once again, I find myself overwhelmed by it all. . .

and so my sweet furry friends. . .all i can leave you with is a bit of emily. . .

"to live is so startling, it leaves little time for anything else" --dickinson

a blog by any other name. . .

Found myself surrounded by myriad of visual, auditory, and olfactory delights. . .

It was Children's Day here in Korea--imagine, a whole day dedicated to being a child--needless to say, I felt at home in this frivolity.

Wandering the carnival-like streets of the Herbal Medicine Market I discovered tempura fried ginger root, dark rich licorice tea, and Korean theatre. . .yes. . .theatre. *goosebumps*

As we traveled down the street, we heard drums and saw a fairly large crowd up ahead. My first thought was drum circle (Missoula living rears its head) but as we got closer, we noticed people in costume and talking. . .dost mine eyes deceive me??. . .

There in the streets were players performing! It seemed to be a comedy--a very melodramatic comedy. There was the bad guy, the king, the jester, and the woman in distress. . .Men were dressed as women, women dressed as men. . .it was beautiful. . .it was quirky. . .it was perfect. . . there were martial arts and magic tricks, love and silliness. And as I settled into the moment, a man came up to me, and simply began to explain what I was watching. . .however, he did not translate the story for me, instead he explained the history of the piece. . .could the fates have put a better person next to me in that moment?? Absolutely not! He explained this was a traditional story line, and this type of play was thought of as medicine for the audience. . .the martial arts are interwoven through the piece to bring strength.

Oh the thoughts and theories that percolated!! I will save you from that torture. . .however, I will say this. . .art at its core is tangible humanity. . .Music, theatre, painting, building. . .they're all elementary. . .every person across the globe understands them because we all experience emotion, and art causes an emotional response--consciously or not.

What a deep and very obvious thought. . (I'm full of them). . .

Unfortunately, art is no exception to our natural inclination to separate and categorize. . .people began to study, examine, research, and theorize all things art--all things performance. . .and over time, as this inclination to understand grew into obsession for some, this strange elitist attitude began to surface and permeate the artistic world. Art is intimidating and impenetrable for the average person. . .and that should not be. . .

There I was in a foreign street, watching a foreign play. . .intimidation certainly lurked. . .but then a nice man simply explained the context, and opened that particular world up to me. . .understanding the language was unnecessary. . .I laughed and clapped in all the right places, and it was amazing, extraordinary, and beautiful. . .

no one needs to know the ins and outs of theatre to enjoy it. . .no one needs to know the language. . .no one needs to know the context. . .(however my performance theory ladened mind certainly appreciated it. . .but I didn't need to know the context. . .)

So, how do we make art more accessible and less intimidating??

I think we just keep doing it. . .and I think we bring it back to the streets. . .that's my thought now, but I bet I will expand on it in the future.

Well now. . .

This blog post ended up in completely different place then where it started, but I think it's nice when things like that happen. . .plus, I am really just too tired to go back and change it. . .

so, my furry friends, the only quote I can leave you with is this:

"The theatre, which is no thing, but makes use of everything." --Artaud.

I had a travel introspection last night. . .

I found myself on a roof top looking up at the sky.

Before I get into this introspection. . .I have to reveal a few things. . .You are probably thinking, oh no, this is the part when the blogger reflects upon her past and gets all introverted and melancholy. . .blah!. . .My response to that: eh. . .it could be, but suck it up. . .I am made up of my past (as you are made up of yours) so my writing will always reflect that introversion. . .but I can guarantee you it is not all melancholy. . .

So, the preface behind us. . .and those of you who are willing to read on. . .here goes. . .

In middle school, my science teacher required us to go find the constellation Orion. Being a studious student I tried to do just that, but was unable to find the mighty hunter anywhere near our house (mostly because I lived in a neighborhood full of pine trees). . .So, I tell my parents: "I am going to fail science, I cannot find the constellation Orion!" (very dramatic indeed, perhaps this is one of those moments, where my mother knew I was meant for the stage). . .instead of being annoyed by me or telling me to go elsewhere. . .both my parents, and I stress BOTH, were like, "oh really, well let's see what we can do about that". . .and so, an adventure began. We were all (mom, dad, and the sisters) in the car driving out to the nearest field to see if we could find it. . .we had no idea what we were looking for. . .I knew the basics (three stars in a row, four stars squaring it off), but other than that, we were lost. . .or so I thought. . .looking back on it, my parents might've known. Regardless, there we were. . .a family in search of Orion--for no other reason, but that Miss Dietrich gave it to me as an assignment. And in the middle of a field (that is now a subdivision) we found it. . .Orion. . .My mom found it, right away actually. . .and I didn't want to believe her because I loved that all of us were out there finding this constellation together--away from the TV. . .away from the house. . .just us. . .OUT together--and everyone happy.

Looking up at that constellation took my breath away. . .there He was. . .in all his glory. . .he had seen everything. . .a silent witness to the Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire, the building of the Great Wall, even my birth. . .even your birth.

And so, this constellation and this particular moment always resonates with me. As I began to travel, I found that I could always look up, and feel safe. . .because there hanging in the sky, like a poster on a wall, was my wholesome family moment. . .I never needed a keepsake, I had a whole constellation!! No matter where I was, I was sleeping under the same sky as my family (are you having An American Tale flashback?? ". . .it helps to know we're sleeping underneath the same big sky. . .somewhere out there. . ." yeah, it's gross, I know;)

Of course, in New Zealand. . .things changed. . .I found myself underneath a different sky--Orion was no where to be seen, only his enemy, The Scorpion. . .and the Southern Cross--but, I don't know. . .I still took comfort in that sea of twinkling black. Even though they couldn't see the stars I saw, my family was still with me because every time I looked up at the sky, that moment came to mind.

And the funny thing??. . .I am probably remembering that whole moment wrong. . .ask one of my sisters and they will probably have no idea what I am talking about. . .but my memory of it is so perfect, that no matter what they say, it won't change. Write it in stone. . .in that moment, we were an ideal family--perfect in every way.

Which brings me back to the roof in Korea. . .gazing at the sky, in which I could only make out one star because of all the light pollution. . .

I bring my family with me where ever I go. And my family does not just include my Mom, Dad and Sisters. . .my family includes my roomies in Missoula, my loves in Australia, my travel buddies, my kindreds, and the one girl who stuck by me in-spite of me. . .I am really a lucky person. When I look up the sky now, I see all of them. . .I want so much to give all my moments to them. . .sometimes I think I do the zany and the unpredictable just for them.

I just hope they know. . .that no matter how far I go, they are always with me. I don't think everyone knows that.

And so, I am crying now (oh the melancholy manifests for a moment), like I was last night looking up at the sky. A lot of people didn't want me to come here. . .a lot of people don't like the life I chose. . .the thing is, I wouldn't have chosen any of this without them. . .and as happy as I am that I know them, I am even more grateful to them for bringing me to this place.

The people and the moments make us who we are. . .I may never live the life that was expected of me, but I think the important thing is is that I am living. . .and I am (in a small way) giving back. After all, the people I know and love do that already. . .

the night sky is an infinite place, so its the perfect place for overwhelming ideas--like life.

tonight i leave you with a bit of a poem from William Cullen Bryant's Hymn to the North Star:

The sad and solemn night hath yet her multitude of cheerful fires;

The glorious host of light walk the dark hemisphere till she retires;

All through her silent watches, gliding slow,

Her constellations come, and climb the heavens, and go.