In the Galaxies of an Eye

I have never publicly shared my poems (I don't write them very often anyways) but since I have a blog, I have decided to sheepishly make my debut. Sharing personal poetry is like standing in front of an audience naked. It's like turning my heart inside out. But I think I am in a safe place so here it is: (Ick!)

there are galaxies of  galaxies in an eye

it may be in there,  you know

the answer to a soul's yearning for meaning

it's somehow in the glitter of an eye

a question that lingers and returns

as the soft blades of baby leaves turn brown

and the delicate membrane of a dew drop gives way

to the inevitability of the passing of a season

and the inevitability of its return

leaves come back in blossoms of buds

dews arrive wrapped in aqueous blankets

they forget their fleeting existence

the soul receives no comfort

but in the stillness of our heartbeats
I notice the galaxies of another's eye

maybe the answer is in there

in the sparkle,

in the beauty

in the mystery

in the love

of a soul that doesn't want to wait

but is ready to fly

Silent Noon

This is my all-time favorite English song. The marriage of the poetry (Rossetti) and music (Vaughan Williams) is absolutely breath-taking. It kills me every time I hear it. "The twofold silence was the song of love." Who knew?!?!

Silent Noon

Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass--
The finger-points look through like rosy blooms:
Your eyes smile peace. The pasture gleams and glooms
'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass.
All round our nest, far as the eye can pass,
Are golden kingcup-fields with silver edge
Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn-hedge.
'Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass.

Deep in the sun-searched growth the dragon-fly
Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky:--
So this wing'd hour is dropt to us from above.
Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower,
This close-companioned inarticulate hour
When twofold silence was the song of love.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Meaning of Meaning

I must have written 3 or 4 different versions of this post and virtually ripped the pages out of the screen, scrunched them and threw them on the floor. I've been trying to articulate what I have been feeling the last couple of months about life. The problem with that is I think too much in circles and paralyze myself. The perennial questions that tailgate every endeavor I undertake are: What is the meaning of this? How does this enhance the meaning of my life? And eventually, what at first looked like an endeavor that seemed meaning-enhancing turns out to be just another illusion. So, I have been asking myself, what really is meaningful? What am I looking for? What do I want out of life?

The easy answer is happiness. We all want to be happy. But it gets more complicated when we start asking ourselves what brings us lasting happiness. Buddhist philosophy tells us it is non-attachment and finding the quiet constant behind the loud variables of perceived reality are what bring us true happiness. I think that's true: finding joy in being. When I get quiet and feel my heartbeat, I am grateful for the life I have been given. There is a lot to be thankful for. But we are meant to do more than just breathe and let our hearts beat and be grateful for our lives although I think that's a good place to start. Maybe it's because I don't fully understand Buddhist philosophy, but if I am just happy in being, I would be the laziest person on earth. I gotta do something!

My biggest fear is that at the end of my life, I would look back and wonder what my life could have been if I were courageous. I am afraid of not utilizing and cultivating my talents and dying in regret. Sometimes I wish I wasn't so artistically inclined and instead liked blood and guts so I could be a doctor. (At least if I tried hard enough, there would be an end in sight. And a job!) Trying to "make it" in the arts is difficult. It's tempting to sell out for the sake of convenience and comfort. But I know at the end of the day, I would be miserable knowing I am not living the life I want to live. The flip side of doing what I want to do, however, is terrifying. Uncertainty abounds. I have to plow though a labyrinth of obstacles not knowing when it's going to end. Call it a gift or a curse--even with the odds highly stacked against me, I can't back down. I've gotta try.

Maybe it's because of my dedication to developing my talents (and its attachment of purpose and meaning to my existence), many important things take secondary place in my life like marriage and family. Maybe it's because I grew up in a broken home that I don't have this earnest desire to be a wife and mother to someone. But there are many moments when I feel lonely and long for a companion that I could rely on when things get tough. If there is a man with whom I can feel at home and accepted despite my failures, I think I would be open to marrying him. And maybe, I may even feel encouraged to try without the fear of failure and judgement. Then, he would become meaningful to me. He would be congruous with my life's purpose rather than intrusional. The hardest part would be to let go of my pride and let him see all the imperfections. Ah, the useless pride... And kids--I have no idea how they are going to fit into my life's purpose. I like kids. I actually love them. I guess I'll have to have them first to see why they mean so much.

So, all this rambling is really meant to clarify one thing for myself: I want to live a meaningful life. And that means living a happy, satisfactory life that allows me to fulfill the measure of my creation. And my creation is full of stuff to give!

Between Here and There: Navigating in No Man's Land

I have been doing some reading and researching to find/define my truth to be more clear about which set of moral codes and existential compass I want to follow to make better sense of life and the universe. This journey has taken me to conclude that all religious institutions are man-made. But I see the need for humans to create institutions for a collective sense of purpose and meaning. I admit that a lot of good comes out of religion and I personally have benefited from being Mormon. But the perks of being Mormon notwithstanding, I have stopped going to Church.

I think the only time I have ever enjoyed going to Church was when I was a missionary a decade ago. And the only reason I enjoyed it then was because I could sit for 3 hours straight without having to plan, teach, knock on doors, or feel guilty for not being a good enough missionary. The only aspect of Church that I enjoyed before and after my mission was a social one. I went to Church to see my friends when I had them. When I didn't, I would go out of habit, obligation and/or the fear of judgement if I didn't go. But I saw how futile my efforts were. I was there only in body. I always checked out mentally as soon as I sat down in Sacrament Meeting.

I stopped going to Church for many reasons. I questioned the truthfulness of the Church. I always had a problem with the Church claiming sole proprietorship of Truth. (This church is the one and only true Church on the face of the earth!) I lost my testimony of the Book of Mormon, Restoration, and Joseph Smith. I didn't feel spiritually fed or nourished in Church meetings. I was annoyed by the teachings in the Church that just regurgitated the simple-minded rhetoric of keep-the-commandments-and-you-will-be-blessed-and-will-prosper-and-be-happy without regarding the complexities and paradox of life's events. I never cared about hearing the testimonies of others about food storage, what they did over the weekend, how much someone loved somebody in fast and testimony meetings. But I cared about how mind-numbingly boring all the meetings were. Eventually, Church ceased to be meaningful to me.

Curiously, or perhaps not so curiously, I am still emotionally attached to the Mormon Church and being a Mormon. I was born and raised in the Church. Even though I was inactive for many years in my youth, Mormonism was my first religious language that articulated my metaphysical cosmos. It gave me a God that I relied on when life got sad and painful. It told me there was hope when misery abounded. It taught me how to pray. It taught me to be kind. It became my culture, my family's culture. It became my identity.

So, even though I left the Church physically and intellectually, I still have a soft spot for Mormonism. And if I find a good ward, I might even return but on my own terms: without a testimony of the Restoration but with respect for an institution that promotes good things.

In Search for Truth...

I have always been fascinated by the universe and how it operates. I think about Truth and what that might look like if I ever got a glimpse of it. I also try to fathom the eternal scheme of things from the perspective of an omniscient being. The imagination is, of course, based on perhaps the arrogant premise that my mind could conceive something so grandiose as omniscience. But my "omniscience" is tamed by a dose of compassion and grace for those who see Truth differently--after all, knowing everything perfectly would incite the most proper emotions for those who disagree. Whether people are defending their own truths, their pride, or identity, they feel fully justified in asserting their beliefs and opinions as the right ones. Perhaps, I am not so arrogant in asserting this imagined omniscience. Maybe we all operate within our own cosmos of omniscience however hallucinatory it is.

I have been thinking about this a lot lately. What is true and what is not? And how does my construction of the cosmos affect the belief system I adhere to? How does this affect my integrity and happiness? I have been grappling with these thoughts a lot. I may have something more insightful to say in a couple of weeks or so after some more thinking and reading. Life is a never-ending enigma...

How I am going to get rich and famous

It is always with guilt that I make my come-back after a long, unannounced hiatus. I do this with my journal, too, even though no one is reading the entries except me. With whopping 16 people following my blog (I am not being sarcastic. I really appreciate my followers. Without you, this blog would be voiceless), you can imagine the magnified guilt. But I am sure you weren't losing sleep over my unannounced absence except for maybe guitarsophist. (Maybe we should be Facebook friends so you know I am alive.) 

Anyway, some of you know from my Facebook status that I left Seattle for good. My life in Seattle was stressful, enlightening, educational, fun, and eye-opening. First of all, the study of ethnomusicology is really cool. (For those of you who are just tuning in my life, I enrolled in the ethnomusicology graduate program at University of Washington with the intent of getting a Ph.D.) I learned a lot and if you are interested in world music and academia sandwiched in one, I highly recommend you look into it. However, I decided to leave the program because I realized I wasn't on the path to living the life of my dreams. When I imagine my dream life, I am on stage performing. I am not reading and writing and trying get published. This realization was spurred on by meeting a hot musician who was living the life of his dreams performing all over the world. And I was like, why am I not doing that? It hit me like a ton of bricks. (Also, I was inspired by a graffiti scribbled on a bathroom door that said, "I aimed for the moon and returned with a pocket full of stars" or something like that.) So, a couple of weeks later I told the head of the department that I was leaving the program to pursue a performing career. She was surprised but gave me her blessing and said I could come back to the program if I so desired in the future. I said thanks, packed my bags and left.

So, how am I going to go about having a performing career, you may wonder especially if you are one of my hundreds of musician friends. Well, I wondered that, too. But I have been brainstorming for about three weeks now and here is what I have. The music I am going to make will be a fusion of pop, classical, and Korean traditional music. Still not sure what market segment I want to target but I decided to let that take care of itself by exposing it on the Internet. So, here is the plan: Write a song fusing all those elements, find musicians to collaborate with, make a recording and a music video. Enlist the help of my friends on Facebook (and that would be you, my dears) to make it go viral online. Link the music video to the Kickstarter fundraiser and raise enough money for a whole album and a concert. My goal is to have the music video circulate and go viral online by the end of the year. Which means it has to be good. Really good. And I am confident that it's going to be good. :)

I also have another project that some of you know about. It's an opera about the story of my grandmother told from my perspective as a Korean-American that I've been wanting to write for a long time. I found a composer and a historian/ethnomusicologist to collaborate with. I also have a conceptual artist in mind who might be interested in doing multi-media stage work. So, I will be doing a lot of research and interviewing my family members over the summer to write the libretto for this work. I am really excited about it. There is a lot that needs to be done for this project like finding funding but if the work is good, we may be able to get the Korean government behind it.

The sad tale of a starving artist is that even with all these grand plans, I still need to have a day job. So, I am planning on applying to community colleges to teach piano, voice, and/or music history and start a piano/voice studio.

So, that's the plan. And I am really excited about it!

Didn't fall off the earth...

So, a lot has happened since last time I wrote on my blog. Family emergency, change of plans, feeling frustrated, starting a side business, etc. I am at a better place now and I am getting ready to move to Seattle. I postponed school to January because my dad was hospitalized and needed someone to take care of him. I am still looking for a roommate in Seattle and I am feeling a bit stressed out about the move and not being able to find funding for my first year.

But on the up side, I am glad Christmas is around the corner so I can spend time with my family before I move. It will be a difficult good-bye when I leave but I am excited about moving to a new city. I will be there for a while so I can really establish some good friendships.

There will be more interesting blog posts once I move to Seattle and things start to move and shake. I am really excited about the classes I will be taking and the new friends I will make. I will keep you posted!

Pokhara Part II

July 29, 2011

It's been raining all morning so Maureen and I have to change our plans. We were going to go on a hike to World Peace Pagoda and then to Devi's Fall but we decide to postpone that until the rain stops. Maureen suggests we go do some kind of yoga/meditation and on the way we spot a foreigner we saw the night before whose backside looks a lot like our friend Tim Vogeler. He looks way cuter in day light. We really want to hang out with our Nepali Tim but didn't have the courage to look like desperate psychos asking,"Can we be your friends?" with buggy eyes. So, we just stare like he's meat on legs.

After our session of chakra healing, we head over to the river to hike up to World Peace Pagoda. I have flip-flops on and I ask one of the boat drivers if it would be possible to climb up in my flip-flops. He says most of the path is made of gravel so I should be fine. We cross the river and start our hike and I quickly realize that there is no gravel in sight--it's all rocks. I curse him with every step to World Peace Pagoda.

We reach the top after two hours. The view is beautiful. Like a dutiful tourist, I read about the multi-purpose of this pagoda and the history of Buddhism on a large stone wall knowing I won't remember a thing.

Before we descend, we decide to grab lunch at a restaurant nearby. We are both starving. I order two main dishes (one in the guise of an appetizer), and a dessert. Maureen and I gush about how good the food is between our bites and how amazing the view is.

With a full stomach and a renewed spirit, we hiked down to find Devi's Fall. Maureen tells me it's a really cool water fall that disappears into a cave. We walk and walk and walk and we see no fall that disappears into a cave. Then, we spot a small fall that disappears into a hole. Maureen takes a picture of it just in case this is it. We reach the end of the trail in bewilderment with a frustrated mind full of what-the-hecks. "No way! Was that it?!" Unable to accept the crushing reality, we ask a little boy where Devi's Fall is. He points to the left. Still doubtful, we follow his direction into town.

In town, cows lazily meander about causing traffic on the road. We walk for about a mile wondering if we are in the right vicinity and if this thing actually exists. Then suddenly, Maureen spots a big festive entry sign that says Devi's Fall. We are so happy we hadn't already seen it.

We go through the entrance gate and behold the real Devi's Fall. And it's cool. Really cool. We pose for pictures and then for some more pictures and gawk at the awesomeness of this fall. After stupidly staring at it for some time, we decide to walk around the surrounding area. If there is one thing that I don't miss when I travel is an opportunity to throw a coin into a wish pond. And this time is not an exception. Maureen and I dig our wallets for coins and start throwing one coin after another for it to land on the "wish spot" so we can actually make a wish. Peripherally, I notice about five guys staring at us. When we turn around after our many failed attempts, one of the guys calls out to give us more coins. We accept and my last coin lands on the wish spot! We give our thanks (and my email address so we can be Facebook "friends") and turn around. I say to Maureen, "We gotta be more specific." And I make my wish: Please send us two *hot* men to hang out, or have a fling with, or marry. Thank you.

We take a cab back home to get ready for our real adventure in Parewadanda early next morning.


Maureen rowing on the lake

On the way up to World Peace Pagoda

World Peace Pagoda



On our way to find Devi's Fall

On our way to find Devi's Fall II

Going into town

Devi's Fall!

Sonata Allegro: Bridge to Development (Pokhara)

July 28, 2011

If you go to Nepal, anywhere in Nepal, people will ask you where you are from, which cities you have visited and where you are headed next. And if you have not been to Pokhara, they will talk, well, gush about how beautiful and amazing it is. If you don't go to Pokhara, you might as well say you haven't been to Nepal. So, after lollygagging for two days in Kathmandu, Maureen and I head out to Pokhara for our "mini-vacation" before the real work takes place in two days.

When we get off the bus after an 8-hour ride, a swarm of hotel lobbyists and taxi drivers flock over to us like bees to honey saying things like, "Our hotel is by the lake," "You get a free taxi ride and if you don't like the hotel, you can just pay for the taxi and go find another place," "We have a room for only 500 rupees (approx. $7) a night!" Maureen is totally amused by the scene and laughs and I am calculating in my head what the best deal would be. I have my guard up because I don't want to get ripped-off but Maureen, in her total optimism, picks out a 500- rupee room that is by the lake and they even offer a free taxi ride. My brain is overloaded with information but the offer sounds better when Maureen says it instead of tanned Nepali men who come up to my chin with eyes shooting laser beams at my wallet.

Hotel Grand is the abode of our choice. We decide that I would be in charge of bargaining and Maureen will be in charge of reinforcing and nodding. Our guy takes us to a room that is 700 rupees a night. My don't-be-a-stupid-tourist flag goes up and I immediately inform him that that is not what he said at the bus stop. He gestures a things-like-this-happen motion and tells me all the 500-rupee rooms are taken. But consider the view, he says as he opens up the curtains. I can see a mountain. I tell him I can go outside and look at the mountain for free. He doesn't budge. I don't mind paying 700 rupees ($10) a night but I don't like being toyed with. I sort of call him a liar and he seems apologetic. Maureen and I deliberate and we decide that our fatigue outweighs justice so, we stay. The whole drama seems anti-climatic and my sense of heroism is wounded.

To put the unpleasantness behind, we go out to get dinner by the lake. We have the most delicious chicken masala curry I've ever had. We look around and Pokhara is beautiful. The mirror images of the mountains on the lake and the blue sky make the view absolutely heavenly. We take in the scenery and are as happy as two forgetful clams. We go out rowing on the lake for a couple of hours and treat ourselves to a full-body massage. The power is out (it usually goes out periodically at night) so we get our service in candle light. I really want my shoulders and lower back worked on but the guy focuses mostly on my ass and legs. But, whatever. He wants us to come back the next day. No way, Jose.

We look at the list of places to visit in Pokhara that Manish gave us in Kathmandu. (He and his girlfriend come here every time she visits from Malaysia. Apparently, Pokhara is a great place for romance.) I tell Maureen that this trip would be even more amazing if we had two guys to hang out with. Maureen wholeheartedly agrees. So, we place our order out to the universe and ask for two guys (one for me and one for you) with some wavering faith.

To be continued...

Sonata Allegro: Exposition (Kathmandu, Nepal)

July 25, 2011

Maureen arrives in Kathmandu a week earlier then I do because she has to go back a week early for her sister's wedding. I arrive on the night of July 25 armed with the vague idea that I will be contributing my drop in the bucket of goodwill. I know nothing about Nepal except that it is sandwiched between India and China. I will be in Kathmandu for a couple of days and then head off to some touristy city that starts with a "p" for a few days and then to a village that I don't even know the name of. I unpack my backpack at Aastha's parents' place where Maureen has been staying for a week. I sit on my bed and think, "What in the world am I doing in Nepal?" I feel unprepared and inadequate to even make a dent in the face of intimidating poverty.

In Kathmandu, I meet Manish who supervises the boys at the SOS Children's Village--he is also the product of the organization. He was sent there when he was three when his family was too poor to raise him. Manish is my age and I mispronounce his name as "Mannish" as in "He's so mannish." It's actually pronounced "Maneesh" with an accent on the "neesh." He takes me and Maureen around Kathmandu and is one of the nicest and generous men I have ever met. He studied ethnomusicology in Kathmandu University but had to drop out two years into it because his mother fell ill and he felt he had to earn money. Dropping out of school is one of his greatest regrets in life. He says he envies me and I feel apologetic for the opportunities I have.

I also meet Bsam who was sent to the SOS Children's Village when he was two by his grandmother when his mother abandoned him. He is granted admission at Kathmandu University this fall and will be studying ethnomusicology there. I give him a couple of piano lessons and I can tell he's smart. I ask him about the music education that is available in Nepal. He tells me there is a dearth of resources for teachers and students of western music. The "books" that he has are photocopies of the music foreign teachers brought to Nepal.

On my second night, I meet an 18-year old Sulochina who invites herself into our room and asks us various questions with beaming curiosity. She shows us her Nepali things that might fascinate a couple of foreigners. We love her trousers and want to get some for ourselves so she takes us shopping. We also get mehnhi (henna tattoos) on our hands and we think it's the coolest thing. We go back to our place and show her the things we got earlier that day. She immediately asks us how much we paid for them and gives us a nod of approval for not being the stupid foreigner and getting ripped-off. Her charm and sass totally win me over.

I still feel bewildered by the newness of this place. I can't believe I am in Nepal! The reality hasn't sunk in yet. But after living in the dusty and crowded city for two days, I long to get out to the countryside and take in a breath of fresh air.


Me and Bsam in his room



Manish



Me trying to sing a hymn from Maureen's iTouch on demand



Bsam's friend, Bsam, Maureen, me and Manish



Our henna tattoos



Me and Sulochina