Thailand: Welcome to Saturn...

[4 days ago: First day in Thailand]

On our taxi ride over to this guesthouse (which is the Shanti Lounge in Bangkok), I saw a billboard that I read as "Welcome to Saturn." I said it aloud and chuckled... which is when Sam pointed out that it actually read "Welcome to Satun." Not sure what that is exactly, perhaps some area in Bangkok, but nonetheless, I think it summed up the idea that here, where I am now, is so planetarily different from Korea, where I was.

Even after only being here for about 16 hours, that fact is apparent. Immediately stepping out of the airport, I am swarmed by a sea of bright-skittle-colored cars: mostly taxis, flaunting their peptobismol pinks, lime greens, sunkist oranges and more. So vastly different from the homogeneous neutral streaks of blacks and silvers that painted the streets of Korea.

Now, I'm definitely not declaring: "Korea bad, Thailand good." For there's that ("good" and "bad) in all things and places, and depends on from what angle you choose to see it, but I am saying that they're just so opposite (as far as i've seem so far): essentially another planet.

The guest house-- the Shanti Lodge-- is indeed not flooded in florescent (as too often in Korea), but lightly lit with an orange glow which flows out of red bamboo paper lanterns. The walls & floors speckled with rainbow-glass mosaics and water-smoothed rocks; mirrors glistening throughout like shiny puddles of water.

The food! Oh, the food! glass noodles with fresh asparagus, pumpkin, cilantro, lemongrass soaked in a zingy lemon-squeezed citrus pour. creamy green and red curries with crunchy cashews. The pineapple juice tastes like someone just crushed up and plopped a pineapple into your mouth, just after climbing up the tree & plucking one down... which, they did.

All this to say, here in merely my first 16 hours I breathe easy, I smile steady and I feel all the magic and good things on their way. straight on to Saturn.

Just when you think you simply can't do it...

So, I was sitting in my little apartment-- which is basically like a club sandwich packed tight: turkey, tomatoes, and mayonnaise oozing out, bacon flopped outta the crust, lettuce busted out like one of those champagne-poppers... which is all to say: i've got alot of shit in here-- and realizing how much I have to actually do before i get out of here, which is in 6 days! Sort through all this stuff--the clothes, the trinkets and doo-dads, figure what to keep, what to throw, ship it home, cancel my phone/gas/elec/etc., get my payments, cancel my bank account, transfer money, find a home for the hamsters (we've got 3. but one escaped already. so, 2 now), climb a mountain, squeeze 10 korean women into a tuna can, yada yada yada. I was feeling frustrated. overwhelmed. angry. then defeated. hopeless. exhausted. overworked and useless. and then... i heard the sounds.
The sounds that could either be the hands of the gods themselves, whipping ropes over their heads and furiously shaking all the tin sheds in this town; the sound of north korea sending lines of whizzing missiles our way, taking out the neighborhood one block at a time; or... or... or this:



the world doing her thing, flashing her reminders for those that will notice it.

changing URL

Hello lovelies,

So my current URL is from, oh, 3 years ago and i frankly don't like it and it's too long. So, I'm going to change it.
Therefore, to anyone who follows me (all the 2 people), I will be moving shop! I will keep you updated and let you know where you can find me next :)

*cherries and gumdrops*

Shared Secret: II

This week, I'm posting two secrets. One of them is the one I'd pick if I just had to choose one (obviously) and is my preferred pick of the two... but the other one was interesting to me because it arose a question in my mind that I wanted to share and ask others.

My first pick:

Oh, the narwhal! Lovely creatures; the nautical unicorns, i'd say.

i think children have one of the clearest perspectives of the world and can teach us a lot more about it, and ourselves, than most of us realize.


My second pick:

Not sure whether this was an empowering moment for the individual, or maybe a moment that left them feeling a bit devoid, or maybe neither or somewhere in between, but it brought to mind this question of: do you think we all have a "last day" of our childhood? Some sort of end or close to that chapter and we move to the next? Or does/can one remain in that state for all their days to come?

When Sam and I were reading the secrets together, after we'd read this one, Sam said "Hm. Wonder when that day will be..." to which I replied, "If we reach it at all." For I feel that, if one chooses to, they can and will remain in their childhood; living with the eyes of a child. Which isn't to say that one wouldn't be growing... for our childhood is so heavily based on constant growth, awareness and discovery. But, of course, this question is a bit subjective-- depending on what the individual defines as "childhood."

I suppose these two picks I made are related thematically, with this idea of a child's perspective and childhood...
A place where plastic bags are kites, your bed is a mardi gras float, a tennis ball that the dog tore in half is a tiny bowl in which you prepare dinner, and your babysitter does indeed turn into a mermaid at night. where she swims with the shiniest turquoise tail and the friendliest nautical unicorns.

Shared Secret

So, each Sunday I check Postsecret. (www.postsecret.blogspot.com)
I'm thinking that I'll start to pick one postcard each week that I particularly enjoyed, and share it here. Yeah, sounds fab.

Here's this weeks postcard-pick:

Wings, Petals and Leaves

spine-like tree with a bright, gooey center.

pretty, mossy tree near at the entrance of a temple.

rainbow-eyed flyer on a su-gook flower, which translates to "small country."

fantasy creature, for sure.

at the Seoul Grand Park Zoo: something so dainty about a flamingo.

Crickets cricking

she swirls and smiles

the sleepy Salvia 'indigo spires'

peeking inside.

Sam and scene: Camping at the Jisan Music Fest (with our modest, lil' tent).

My friend, Howard, the acorn weevil. We hung out and he showed me his tricks, like the featured stretched-out wings move.

paint music

Armor

skittering and sure

he's found it just where

lou left it.

skipping across

the 8 cracks

like horned-sheep

over deep ravines

zagging around

the sandy pebbles

like the twitch

of a fishing line

across water.

his day 36

his strength

of aged wine.

he's ready

to take on the world

with a blade of grass.

.