I am, however, a citizen of the United States and an enrolled member of the Oglala Sioux Tribe, meaning I am a citizen of the Oglala Lakota Nation—and in this dual citizenship I must work, I must eat, I must art, I must mother, I must friend, I must listen, I must observe, constantly I must live. 

 Layli Long Soldier 

the immeasurable distance

They scan my body to provide me with security. But that's not my security. They scrutinize my private body parts as if their national security is up to the shape of my body. They sanitize my mentality by asking private questions such as "what is the relationship between you and your friend?" and intimidating as if the answer matters. What they are after is not my answer but the right attitude - the level of my obedience has become one of their criteria to measure the validity of my traveling. But that's not my security. Their questions are always legitimate because "there is no reason to be defensive about it unless you are hiding something." So I am a suspect if I refuse to answer 'their' questions for 'my' personal reasons. If i 'misbehave' or ask them back too many questions, they can give me 'the orange box,' which means i have been 'randomly' chosen for further scrutiny. But that's not 'my' security. When i request to be patted down in replacement of going through the full-body scanner, i am told that the airline might reject my boarding - the officer adds "i am giving you an option here." I was confused at first about what this option was - but now i get it. What he meant was either I put 'my' security at risk by vocalizing an opinion or successfuly fly by shutting myself up. Among his 'options,' i choose to be forced to shut up. And this is the way I am "protected" - by 'their' security check that dehumanizes 'my' physical and mental being. The distance between 'their' security and 'my' security.

authority of the ghost

When I let go of the tight grip of time and space that constitute the gravity of life, I feel empowered to stroke against the fixated norms of my environment whose rigidity I ordinarily do not realize because I have become so habituated to living my life as told - with some degree of flexibility but mostly without questioning its absurdity - by the ghost of "authority."

I recall my last travel in Morocco when I had some harsh principles of traveling. I couldn't possibly allow my dogma to slip away from the thought that I should not travel without meaningfulness; I must have the right purpose of traveling - that does not take advantage of the local culture. Afraid of imposing AND imposed, I abstained from traveling the touristic cities in Morocco - where colors of spices would've danced for me on top of the magnificent cone-shaped piles only if I walked down the alleys of any local market, and I missed my chance of a possible encounter with a Genie that would've fulfilled my wishes only if I tried on a pair of babouches marocaines, the handmade traditional leather slippers.
I didn't travel - I spent my November of 2011 in a tiny mountainous village where every house was soaked with the comforting and enriching smell of olives from pressing them at the corner of their houses through generations - because I feared indulging myself in the consumer's joy that would end up exploiting the authenticity of the culture by forgetting "how the things that allure my sensations came to be made" and "at what cost."

I was almost looking for a heavyweight on my conscience to stay connected with the center of myself; what I hadn't realized was that I wasn't quite ready for an intimate encounter with anything outside of my own because I was so self-absorbed in the mission of being the grade "A" traveler - evaluated by the ghost of "authority."

I feel like I want to cry; I feel like crying because I feel alive - the joy of being alive also means there is sadness in accepting growth. It feels sad to grow sometimes because you realize the old t-shirt that you gave so much meaninng into does not suit you anymore. But in the end, maturity of the soul is met by a new level of gratitude of accepting and being accepted, I guess. The child inside of me dances again, pushing away the good old "authority" that has long faded out.

Peep. peep. I am sure the ghost will revisit me again and again. But that's okay. I've got a new t-shirt that says "I am happy just the way I am."

'peace bridge' in Derry-Londonderry -

is the horizon separating the sky and the earth? or is it bringing them together by letting the two touch upon each other? peace may exist when two sides are allowed to sit, inter-independently along a fine line - like the way the horizon is with the sky and the earth.

see you again ... !

body and storytelling

A body deposits time lapses; it stores memories, which are often reflected through gestures, movements, interaction with other bodies, eye contacts, voice, and pattern of breathing. Every action radiates with a particular wavelength that reflects a particular element of the culture and tradition of her society. A body, which is emblematic of a society, exists in three forms: life body, physical body, and ideal body. Life body consists of habits and normative behaviors that are ingrained on an unconscious level; these are practiced repetitiously throughout one’s lifetime through customs and daily routines. Physical body is the actual limitations and restrictions that the body experiences while in an artistic moment. These restrictions are often rooted in tradition and culture, which presuppose certain ways of the body according to the ideologies of a society. The physical body is shaped by taboos and social expectations, and it conforms to what is conventional and socially acceptable. When a body can transcend its physical level, it has a potential to realize what it thinks is ‘ideal.’ The ideal body is the most artistic form of the three because it is the most liberated. It transcends social, cultural, and political boundaries of surroundings. Just as some people are born with more flexibility than others, some bodies have greater capacity to expose the subtle layers of history stored in the body. When the ideal body discovers its history in its own body, it can dismantle the deeply habituated patterns, and reconstruct new ‘ideals.’ When these new ideals can be practiced enough with other such ideal bodies, the new ideas form physical manifestations of a new paradigm.

preserving the status

what i want to preserve the most - like cherry preserves so i can have it in the winter, so i can taste when when i miss the sweet texture of the summer fruit - is being partners to each other of listening and holding each other where exactly we are, instead of trying to change the way we are

i think the kind of quarrels that we have been having comes from lack of confidence and trust, which are interrelated

how much confident am i with my identity ?

hard to tell as i am on my journey, an intense one
you are on yours, i am aware

when i am in the process, even though i know i am getting there, i can’t claim that i have that confidence yet

i need time for it to go through its own cycle of life before it gets ready for fermentation, which will enable me to be inclusive of my surroundings 

how long will it take i don’t know, but i guess i know i am getting there

i know i am getting there, though 

but maybe this wish i have, this desire i hold, this imagination that 'if i only wait a little bit longer, soon I would be able to embrace you more and more' is surreal 

i cannot pick up any real food with a surreal pair of chopsticks

what shall i do? what shall we do?
i propose us to preserve what is the most essential, which is being conversational partners who can be listeners to each other staying exactly where we are instead of trying to change our seats
what would happen if we moved on from thinking of getting back together or imagining one future together to being truthful friends who can accompany each other throughout a lifetime ? 

i wonder if we can practice this, if we can practice focusing on the essence of the relationship, shedding romance - it is kind of like purifying, not because romance is impure but because

i recognize that i desire to cherish, embrace, and preserve than erase or forget the extent of the value that i hold in my connection with your being

in order to preserve the essence of my relationship with you, i need to let go of part of me that want to make love to you, want to grow old being next to each other 

can i let it go ? can you let it go? can we somehow work on this process together? this is where my thoughts are now 

눈 감기

여백의 미에는

틈새를 파고드는 순발력이 없다.

탄성을 자아내는 아이디어도 없다

대신 머무름이 있다

가늘지만 선명한 실처럼

그것은 나를 안도시킨다

눈을 감는 연습이 필요하다고 느끼는 것이

그래서 인가보다 

남해-서울행 버스 안에서

눈을 감았다 떠도

아직 자연이다

산등성이 너머 산등성이가

동공을 가득 채운다

벚꽃 나뭇가지들의 겹침이

머리 위가 아닌 아래로

점박이마냥 

화려함이 온데간데 없어진 수수한 자태로

잘려진 밑동은 기어이 생명을 피워낸다

상상도 할 수 없는 공간에서

평온이 스스로를 틔어낸다