2012: My year in music

Happy new year! 

2012

Jan. Ingrid Michaelson – “How We Love” ………… <listen>
Feb. Mika – “We Are Golden” (acoustic version) ………… <listen>
Mar. Cat Power – “Human Being” ………… <listen>
Apr. Regina Spektor – “One More Time With Feeling” ………… <listen>
May. Regina Spektor – “How” ………… <listen>
Jun. Pink Martini – “Clementine” ………… <listen>
Jul. Pink Martini  – “Hang On Little Tomato” ………… <listen>
Aug. Oh Land – “White Nights” ………… <listen>
Sep. David Bowie – “Life on Mars?” ………… <listen>
Oct. Coldplay – “Yellow” (live) ………… <listen>
Nov. Christina Perri – “A Thousand Years” ………… <listen>
Dec. Ednaswap – “Torn” ………… <listen>

warmth

Why would I do that? she whispered to him.

He chuckled and said nothing.

She traced the prism patterns underneath them, triangle upon triangle, reds, plums, blues stitched together. The little flowers along the edges had faded, and there was a long rip along the top, the part she always tugged on when she was cold. Safety pins adorned it.

As she snuggled into his shoulder, a breath escaped his nostrils, landing in warmth on top of her head.

She giggled.

What?

The sun’s tickling me.

 

I saw her sitting there

I saw her sitting there, in front of the locked window, the streaming sunlight burning her hair as she carved her emotions into the well-worn frame.  Her aching fingers moved with a frantic yet firm intentionality, her strong nails desperate to leave a mark in the rotting wood, her body begging to expunge its anxiety.  She made intricate designs, long, curvy lines intersecting and converging in a broken corner where she’d once hammered in a hook.  It used to hold her father’s old camera until the hook fell off from its weight.

She remembers her days in Paris, the men she’d known, the songs she’d sung walking unprotected in the rain.  Some of her favorite lectures play out in a hazy reverie, the snippets of fierce feminist monologues, daydreams of Pushkin, talks over Fellini films.  She wonders why she didn’t take more chances, but she doesn’t regret a thing.  She doesn’t regret anything.

From the corner of her eye, she sees me watching her.  She pretends not to notice, and I remain rooted to the floor, silent.  My right ear starts ringing, and her body goes gently limp, whether from the weight of her memories or disappointment in my dishonesty, I can’t tell.  The room smelled faintly of cigarettes and her, and I, in my cowardice and despair, knew not what to do but swallow my thoughts and leave.

And i missed him.

I thought it was unfair, but he was okay with it. And although my brain was telling me this wasn’t right, he made me feel comfortable with the choices i was making. He’d always leave me with vague questions, unplaceable feelings, an incomplete experience, but never did i feel discomfort. Nor resentment.

We walked with purpose, like two heroes on a mission, although truthfully, we had nothing to do, nowhere to be. What was my greatest mission? What was his?

I had no reason to trust him, but i did. And so i kept walking. Accompanying him, the space between us reverberating, not knowing how to walk. How to keep him safe and me safe at the same time. How to be honest and not risk anything. How to risk but not lose anything.

And while i was sad to leave, i was satisfied with how that night came to a close: the sharp snap of a door, the rustle of an adjusted shoulder strap, and the glance we refused to share.

float

I want to go
to a small little village
of few people
where cats pounce
but fish leap

But who knows
anything of this town?

There floats an orb
large
and luminescent

Children cry
at its sight
some look
but their eyes flicker
away

Framed panorama

yellow dots
and red dots
glide through the city
and I stay
tense,
with bated breath
floating strangers
stroking ginkgo leaves
bells and orbs
scattered, bouncing
as you
saunter
or…waddle
there

student quotes, edition #2

we are very hungry, so we eat boodaejjigae.  We eat more than next table’s boys.

I’m ever summer was born.  I’m eat some blood.  I’m fly bug.  I’m bear in water.  I’m comeing night. people is. kill me.  electricity whip.  is fire my body.  my mouth is very long!  my body is head, breast, and abdomen.  I heat F killer!  see you soon

One day, when is puppy sleeping.  However I heard laughting.  It’s unretable situation.  The sound forward to puppy!  Maybe puppy is dreaaming.  So laughing.  It’s very mystery sound.  but my puppy is pretty and lovely!!!  I will love my puppy.

(I love how she describes the dog as laughing!)

A later I want grow beautiful and quietly live in the marado.

Hello, my soul.  I’m your body.  I’m really throb.  because I go to the Jeju island. tomorrow morning.  You too?  Ah!!  I must speak you.  first, You think seriously of every thing.  I speak to your think.  I am a very difficulty.  Second, keep the mind, please.  Many people laughed by my expression.  I’m very shame.  But.  I love you.  You have an original idea.  It is a very important, in our time.  We must succeed in our time.  good luck my soul ~.

Idealism

A friend told me last night, “Everyone has flaws.”  Of course, everyone does.  It’s just that when it comes to my best friends, the people i love, i have a much harder time accepting flaws.  Because i’m too much of an idealist.

I hold the people i love to a much higher standard.  I want them to be perfect.  I want them to be the kind of people everyone respects, adores, and emulates.  I want them to be the shining ideal of a person, a representation of all the things i stand for.  And when they fail to be that, i’m crushed and inconsolable.  It hurts me deeply.

And that makes me afraid i’ll never be happy with anyone.

 

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If only i could be a vagabond…

…moving to a new city every few months. Not becoming known or committed to anyone or anything anywhere.

I miss Vietnam. I treated my two weeks there as a parallel universe; i convinced myself that nothing i did there mattered to the “real life” i led here in Seoul. I did whatever i wanted without a thought or a doubt. And i came back here feeling…different. I wouldn’t say “transformed;” not only is that way too cliché, but it doesn’t even really make sense. I felt more sure of myself, like i shouldn’t ever be afraid to do anything anymore. Like i hadn’t properly lived before i took that trip. Like i hadn’t trusted myself enough.

I’ve only just realized that i’ve been more confident in everything i’ve been doing since my return from Vietnam. I’m much more confident in my teaching, i’m more confident with people in general, i’m more confident in being myself at work, at a place, in a culture, where it’s probably not a good idea to be entirely myself. I don’t really give a shit about acting “Korean” at school anymore. I’m fed up with surface courtesies and the never-ending obsession with appearance. I hate feeling like i have to act Korean because i speak Korean. I hate that everyone there expects me to do so. It’s not fair that i have to take on all the responsibilities of a Korean teacher just because i’m capable of it. I don’t get paid nearly enough for that.