a thought by any other name. . .

i find myself wondering what story to tell you. . .

do I tell you about the toothless grinning korean man in a sombrero singing to himself as he rode his bike down the alley, and left me smiling for the better part of the day?? (well, I guess I just did)

hmmmmm. . . .

should I go on about the World Cup, and the incredible weekend that involved witnessing Koreans beating Greeks on a relatively large screen high above an empty field surrounded by thousands of Koreans in red horns banging blue sticks together, followed by a Shisha bar, men in cardboard masks, the repetition of "da-dum-dumdum Nah-Ham Dayu!", and stumbling into the abandoned streets of a gray morning after the U.S. tied with England--a moment that included a man in a white dress sleeping soundly on a table.???

or should I elaborate on the stifling heat that even this southerner has trouble coping with?? My pores have literally turned into faucets and it is none too pretty when they get going. . .

do I tell you that I have Explosions in the Sky playing right now, and they are stirring the memory pool. . .

do I tell you that I went for a wander that lasted three hours and included a river, a funny little man who tried to bring me to the Lord in Korean--at least I think it was the Lord, he could've been selling my soul to the devil. . .and my vain attempt to understand a board game of sorts that involves white and black pieces and little old men.

maybe I should impart to you that most of the time, my students make my day. . .and most of the time my only goal is to make them laugh. . .but let's not let the company find out about that. . . my job is English not humor.

or perhaps I could tell you that the worst thing in the morning is a mosquito buzzing loudly by by my ear. . .

i could tell you about my introduction to the comedy sketches of Steve Brule. . .

or my favorite new joke. . .what is Beethoven's favorite fruit? BA-NA-NA-NA!

oooh. . .or that I had a conversation with my sister, that still has me laughing as she reminded me of some very specific moments of our cross country road trip from Montana to South Kackalacky. . .that involved a car, a truck, a lot of stuff, some rain, a crazy person, two funny mechanics and one very unfortunate incident and I am not talking about the car accident.

i could also mention that I went to an open-mic night at a local bar on wednesday and heard some really lovely music by teachers I work with, and other expats sharing their talents. . .moments like that always make me wish I would've kept playing. . .what a gift to be able to pick up an instrument and create through it. . .I envy that talent. My creativity relies on the words of others and the communion of a cast. . .I can't exercise it at any moment--and this is why I find myself writing more and more these days. . . .

or should i tell you, that I think I have nothing to say right now??

but looking back, I guess I had more than I thought. No need to pontificate on any one thing I suppose, but rather just lay it all out as it comes to mind.

No elaboration. . .

No poetry. . .

No padding. . .

Just thoughts as they come. . .

yes. . .yes. . .yes. . .that is what I will leave my three readers with tonight. . .just a bunch of flibbertygibbit ramblings. . .

you are welcome. . .

and of course a quote. . .now because music is my most passionate obsession, and I've had so many new musical discoveries in the past few weeks, I have to leave you with one of my favorite musical quotes. . .

"I think I should have no other mortal wants, if I could always have plenty of music. It seems to infuse strength into my limbs and ideas into my brain. Life seems to go on without effort when I am filled with music." --George Eliot (a female novelist, mind you:))

be well my furry friends.

Is that a hiccup I smell??

There's been a hiccup in the previously mentioned routine. . .

a very good thing indeed. . .

I've taken up a taekwondoe class, which consistently reminds me I am neither Asian nor coordinated, but the instructor is patient and has a good nature, so I have to continue to train--there will be a moment in a dark alley. . .and I will use my training. . .it will be rainy, fumes of the city communing with the acid rain, I will be walking home quietly unaware. . .and there, in the shadows lurks a. . .a . . .a dog, yes a dog, and he is stalking his prey, a gutter cat. . .my super taekwondoe senses flare. . .in one quick moment I swoop up the cat and shield him from the attacking dog. . .and the world will be right again. . .well, sort of. (and to think I'm not a big cat person. . .)

I've also started running again. I, foolishly, took a month off. . .I was so used to running in the country or in a gym, that when presented with only city streets to run, I became intimidated. Body suffered quite a bit, but things are on the mend. . .In my "little" city of 2.2 million people, there is a park--an oasis--of green beauty with what seems to be never-ending crooked trails that take you here there and everywhere. I find myself getting lost in them, and I am perfectly okay with that. Along the trails are workout stations, which include weights, hula hoops, and stretching machines. . .they seemed to be geared towards seniors, but I quite enjoy them.

I do love getting lost in a run. . .

The people around me are nothing short of amazing. I always have a fear of not making friends. . .it must come from my years in private school where I felt ridiculed and never good enough due to a contradictory religion that seems to serve no purpose but to make rich people feel good about themselves (but that's another story). . .so, I always enter each new moment with heavy trepidation--and it can be crippling at times. And so I wonder why I continually throw myself into these situations. . .but so I do, and, you know. . .I always end up meeting amazing people, with extraordinary talents and insights and humor.

. . .the strange thing. . .

I always become silent among them (meaning all people I meet in life), and take them in. I lose my own wit and humor for awhile. It is off-putting, and I am not sure why it happens. . .I find myself testing the waters--throwing in a joke here and there and see how it is received. . .

so far so good. . .I find myself coming alive more. . .

I love getting to know new people. . .I love getting to know these people.

I am loving this life moment. . .I know I will not stay here forever. I still have many more things to see and do, but because of this experience I am adding to my list of things to do--like Madagascar. . .yeah, I am going there.

and the teaching. . .well, I have my moments as all teachers do I suppose, but overall, it is good. The kids are awesome despite how much they make me crazy at times, and so is the academy I work for. . .

So, I realize I haven't written in a while. . .I think I am still trying to figure out what this blog is. . .it started out as an outlet to tell people what I am doing. . .but it's turned into a place where I just reflect, with bits of Korea thrown in here and there. . .perhaps it is a bit narcissistic, but it is not intentional. . .I just think that's what happens with experiences. . .we relate them to ourselves, and what are we made up of--moments. Just moments. . .good and bad. . .the scenery may change or stay the same, but the moments are always churning.

and so a quote. . .a bit off kilter, and nothing to do with the tone of the writing, but it works for me right now. . "alright brain, I don't like you and you don't like me--so let's just do this and I'll get back to killing you with beer." --Homer Simpson

a routine established. . .

I've settled into a routine. . .

I wake up. . .usually around 11am. . .

Turn on Itunes Genius Mix. . .my favorite is the Indie Rock mix--it ranges from The Smiths to Amanda Palmer to Okkervil River to The New Pornographers. . .(I secretly love that moment. . .seeing what Itunes decides I should start my day to)

Clean up a bit. . .

Shower.

Dress.

Email.

Then out my door. . .

I walk down the hill, passing the little old ladies sitting on the bench. I bow to them, smile, say hello (Ha-seyo!). . .a slight giggle is exchanged among them, and a little discussion. For my enjoyment, as I descend the hill, I think of what they may be saying. . ."americans, they're taking over this neighborhood!" "why doesn't she wear heals!" "she's wearing green again!?" Of course, these are all of my own imagining. . .it's a symptom of depression. . .i project my own insecurities into the minds of others. (or so my therapist told me) You had no idea depressives were so insightful, did you?

Notice I use the past tense of the therapist.

Yes, I admit, I have depressive tendencies. . .I also have manic tendencies. . .I also took medication. . .so it runs in my family. The most important thing to note is that yes I may be prone to certain idiosyncrasies. . .but aren't we all?? We don't always need medication, we just need to know how to deal with ourselves. . .

Back on topic. . .

The hill I live on runs into a street. . .a very busy street. . .I turn right, and then make my way down the sidewalk. . .bowing at the woman carrying her (what I suspect her grand child), crossing the street at the SK gas station, and then hurrying along to my favorite crosswalk. I wait for the light to change. . .

my headphones always on. . .playing a shuffle of music. . .but it is turned down low enough so that the sound compliments my surroundings. . .I can hear the truck roar by, and I can hear the woman shouting at me to buy flowers. . . I also hear the little girl laughing as she runs along with her father. . .I take it all in. . .always. . headphones (when used properly) don't isolate you from the world--they introduce you to it.

I cross the street. . .why is it my favorite you ask?? (or perhaps that is my own depressive tendencies projecting my insecurities on to you). . .but why would I be insecure about that--mmm, and a-round and a-round we go!--(silly mind). . .so, let's say, I suppose you ask. . .my answer is this. . .I think it is because of the buildings, and the smell of the city. . in this particular part there seems to be an abundance of metropolitan life. Now, I am a mountains and ocean girl--give me seclusion and beautiful surroundings, and I am truly happy--but, I need doses of heavy humanity (perhaps it's a side effect from my living in NYC). . .there is an energy that comes from tall buildings, roaring vehicles, and bustling people. . .I get a good dose at this crosswalk. . .

I wander into the grocery store. . pick up an apple. . .and head to work.

I never take the elevator. . .

I love the seven flights of stairs, I climb and climb, past the buildings, past the rubble, and there, as I turn the corner on the 5th story are mountains rising up past the buildings. Piercing the blue with their intense green.

A smile inevitably crosses my face. . .

I live in Korea. . .

Then I enter my classroom. . .rearrange the desks from the previous day. . .open the window. . .and begin to plan the day's lesson. . .

My kids greet me with smiles and "ahhhh, teacher today was not good. . ." I ask them why, and so the reason for being here begins.

And so I am complete. . .

I then go out with fellow workers. . .drink a bit. . .or wander home to read a book, or watch an episode of Breaking Bad. . .or Spaced. . .or of course, Arrested Development.

My life is very simple. . .but very extraordinary. Not because I live in the Korean Peninsula. . .but because I teach. . .I teach people to communicate. They laugh at me. . .they stop me in the hallway to say "Hi!". . .even past students come and visit me. I actually had one student buy a piece of art work that I made for the Open Market--just because I made it, not because it was any good. . .

As the tired old cliche goes. . .i have no idea how I ended up here, but I am so glad I did!

Yes, I have bad moments. . .yes, I have moments where I scream "WHHHHYYYY!!!" at the top of my psychosis (never out loud. . .don't want to alarm the neighbors). . .yes, I miss some really good people, but I can't help that I love where I am at.

And so the only quote I can leave you with my fine furry friends is from the late but glorious Mr. Douglas Adams. . ."I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I ended up where I intended to be."

With that in mind. . .I linger on the question. . .Do I buy a couch??

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.

to blog or not to blog. . .

Recently, I've come across blogs and posts that talk of Korea being a bad place to live. . .they say it is complicated, frustrating, and miserable--not what they imagined. Hmmmmmm. . .and so I ponder. . .

pondering. . .

now, I'm thinking. . .

oh, wait. . .

nope, pondering again. . .

deep in thought. . .

wait, Yes!

oh no. . .one more, yes now I'm thinking again. . .

and I'm back. . .

with nothing insightful, but this is what I have to say. . .my second night in Seoul, I was fiddling with a door that would not open, and I sighed with great disdain. . "nothing works in Korea!" and it's true. . .nothing does. . .everything is different and frustrating. . hamburgers don't taste right, I can't read a damn thing, and it took me three days to figure out how to get warm water. . .and well, that is why I came here. . .

Why should we spend all of our lives being comfortable?? What is the adventure in that?? I have found myself in some pretty craptastic places. . .I once stayed in a shack crawling with cockroaches, a revolting bathroom (we are talking feces everywhere), and a bed that made my skin crawl to lay in it. . .but when I woke up, walked out my front door, there, right in front of me was the beautiful blue Caribbean offering perfect beauty and serenity. . .despite the rough night in the shack, to wake up to such splendor made it all worth it. One time I spent three incredibly cold nights in an apartment under construction, that barely had running water, but every morning I got to wake up to Amanda Fucking Palmer playing piano. . .I guess comfort (or lack of it) is manageable. . .I like being uncomfortable. . .because it means something great is waiting for me. . .

Yes, Korea is intimidating. . .every morning I wake up thinking, "what the hell? how am I going to do this or that?" or my favorite thought. . ."wait, how do I say 'hello'?" or "wow, I don't know anyone. . .I really would like to talk to a friend right now." It took me a week to figure out how I dispose of my trash. . .(yeah, there are no traditional dumpsters). . .but it's these little hurtles that I find exciting. I love not knowing how things are done, and I have to figure it out. . .I have to figure it out or I don't survive. Maybe one of my ancestors was an explorer of sorts. . .I guess I just get very bored in the day to day american life. . .where I know exactly how it all works. . .

that's not to say, that those people who live those lives are stupid or bad or boring. . .

if you ask me they're lucky. . .I peer into their lives from time to time, and long for it. I see my friends doing amazing things and living incredible lives. . .my best friend knows how to make an old dining room set brand new again by simply relining the chairs, and she can carry her 8 month old daughter in one arm, wrap her in a towel and dump out the bathwater, while cooing to the baby in her ear. . .her husband can make delicious coffee, make his daughter smile and laugh, and kick some major ass at rock band. . .these things, simply astonish me. . .I mean, they brought a whole other person into the world, and she truly is the coolest baby ever. . .

what can i do??

I can do a bit of this and that. . .and go here and there. . .and I can laugh while doing it. . .I can wander a street market in Korea on a warm Sunday afternoon, and find perfect pleasure in the smells, the sounds, and the sights. . .I can make a room full of Korean kids laugh by talking in a funny voice. . .that's not to say you can't do those things. . .it's just to say, that's what I do. . .for right now. . .

I guess, I find contentment in this adventure, as much as it intimidates me. . .truly, I think life in general intimidates me. . .and maybe it should be daunting to all of us. . .we've been given this major task. . .we've been given a life, a chance, to do something great. . .and that very idea should be so overwhelming that it causes us to do things outside of our comfort zone from time to time. . .whether that is having a child, moving to Korea, or even buying whole milk instead of skim. . .

like Emile Zola I said. . ."i am an artist, i am here to live out loud." But I don't want that to be the only quote I leave you with, seeing as the latter is something they say on the Oxygen channel all the time. . .

So I leave you with this my furry friends. . .

"I do not accept any absolute formulas for living. No preconceived code can see ahead to everything that can happen in a man's life. As we live, we grow and our beliefs change. They must change. So I think we should live with this constant discovery. We should be open to this adventure in heightened awareness of living. We should stake our whole existence on our willingness to explore and experience." --Martin Buber

and this one. . ."to live would be an awfully big adventure." --Peter Pan--J.M. Barrie

ooh, three quotes in one blog. . .saucy. . .:)