"Infusion"

Those foundations used to be huge buildings. They are now all gone. Such a clean job--it's like they were never there. One of the buildings had "RESEARCH" on the side of it. A new life for the riverfront.

Apparently hospitals now say "infusion treatment" in lieu of "IV" these days. Ridiculous, I think. But imagine this picture that E so kindly shared, and imagine after the "infusion" that the turkey got up and jumped out of the pan and started to do a big dance. That is what happened to me today. I had a fabulous, long visit with Helena today, complete with Korean food, history lessons, tea, logistics about a possible visit to her lake house in May, and one of the 99 names of Allah. I felt totally rejuvenated and it helped confirm my vision for the coming months: Belfast for spring, Cleveland in the summer, and Ithaca in September. Then I had a good Thai dinner w/my sis and her husband, and then more tea. I finished reading Edwidge Danticat's The Farming of Bones on the train.

Also, Elizabeth shared this with me: a link about hanji for Spanish speakers! Well, my video isn't in Spanish. But then I thought, if I subtitled in other languages, that would be great, huh? Though my goal had always been limited to spreading hanji to English speakers, that was only b/c of my own linguistic deficiencies. The moving images would still make sense in any other language.

Finally, there's a great art auction happening online. Helena and I talked about how much the consumption of art has changed, and how people can easily have a comprehensive experience of an artist w/o ever leaving a computer, paying money, or experiencing the work directly. As much as I am all for people worldwide reading about artists, looking at their websites, enjoying the images, and so on, actually buying and owning real tangible art is also fabulous, and just as private. Getting to live with art is something everyone should get to do, I think. So if you covet something and can afford it, treat yourself!

Irritable, waiting

I feel badly about being unwilling to talk to people, tired of being asked when Ben is leaving and how I am doing and probably I'm fine, right, since I have so much to keep me busy? The tricky thing being that these people are going to be my support net when he does leave so I can't be completely detached. But most of my energy is going towards work and living with a chronic condition that flares up with stress, so I am a big ball of itchy ALL THE TIME now. But thank goodness I live in an era where smallpox is not a threat to me, since I wouldn't be allowed to get a vaccine.

But on the bright side, I'm done with another book and am hoping to finish a required reading (aka papermaking text) this weekend before settling into an assigned one (Ben's helping w/email prompts and reading suggestions, which I am trying to speed through while he's here, though I have to be working on three other articles simultaneously). This was my favorite quote from the last book:

There are two words whose meanings reflect our somewhat warped attitudes toward levels of commitment to physical or mental activities. These are the terms amateur and dilettante. Nowadays these labels are slightly derogatory. An amateur or a dilettante is someone not quite up to par, a person not to be taken very seriously, one whose performance falls short of professional standards. But originally, "amateur," from the Latin verb amare, "to love," referred to a person who loved what he was doing. Similarly a "dilettante," from the Latin delectare, "to find delight in," was someone who enjoyed a given activity. The earliest meanings of these words therefore drew attention to experiences rather than accomplishments; they described the subjective rewards individuals gained from doing things, instead of focusing on how well they were achieving. Nothing illustrates as clearly our changing attitudes toward the value of experience as the fate of these two words. There was a time when it was admirable to be an amateur poet or a dilettante scientist, because it meant that the quality of life could be improved by engaging in such activities. But increasingly the emphasis has been to value behavior over subjective states; what is admired is success, achievement, the quality of performance rather than the quality of experience. Consequently it has become embarrassing to be called a dilettante, even though to be a dilettante is to achieve what counts most--the enjoyment one's actions provide.

--Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Flow

I know there are light and dark sides to everything, including the dangers of rabid amateurs (like dentists who are history buffs who think they are entitled to dictate the content of student textbooks while driven by very clear ulterior motives). But I still remember learning the real meaning of "professional." It's getting paid to so something, but has nothing to do with how you actually behave. After I figured that out, I lost interest in being a professional anything.

Rejuvenated by Canada

We've eaten four so far; two left.

Happy year of the tiger! This was the tiny parade we saw today in Chinatown while walking to find a good Vietnamese place where we stuffed ourselves.

Winterlude! We didn't skate, but we did set foot onto the crowded canal. Ottawa was beautiful and cold and just what we needed to process V Day, the new year, Presidents Day, and Mardi Gras tomorrow.

Mostly odd ends

I had a years-too-late realization that I don't have to work on the weekends. Meaning, it's okay not to touch my email, or other "action items" on my computer. And it's okay not to open the computer. So this weekend I finished reading a book that made me laugh aloud at this point:

Many years ago, when I was writing editorials for the New York Herald Tribune, the editor of the page was a huge and choleric man from Texas named L. L. Engelking. I respected him because he had no pretense and hated undue circling around a subject. Every morning we would all meet to discuss what editorials we would like to write for the next day and what position we would take. Frequently we weren't quite sure, especially the writer who was an expert on Latin America.

"What about that coup in Uruguay?" the editor would ask.

"I could represent progress for the economy," the writer would reply, "or then again it might destabilize the whole political situation. I supposed I could mention the possible benefits and then--"

"Well," the man from Texas would break in, "let's not go peeing down both legs."

It was a plea he made often, and it was the most inelegant advice I ever received. But over a long career of writing reviews and columns and trying to make a point I felt strongly about, it was also probably the best.

--William Zinsser, On Writing Well

Yiok

Today, Ben and I checked out of the hotel and he dropped me off at the bus stop after getting me a Wawa breakfast sandwich. We boarded the bus and then suddenly were instructed to unload and board a different one around the corner, but besides a random stop in front of a Bob Evans in Jersey and another random rest stop for one passenger, it was fairly uneventful. Once in NYC, I rushed to meet Katherine and her friend Andy, and we spent hours at a cafe. It was just like seeing her in Korea except I might have chattered faster since I'm back in the English-speaking groove. I was going to have dinner w/them, too, but when I called home, it turned out that Mom had made a batch of new year's soup just for me, so I rushed through the cold and wind to inhale it. It's a Korean tradition, even though I didn't do it properly since I had it on the second day of the new year instead of the first.

Yesterday, I bolted awake at 6am in the hotel room we were sharing w/a couple friends of Ben, upset over a very recent development - someone very close to me was wrongfully terminated on new year's eve. Literally dragged into HR on a vacation day to be informed of the process of firing, and then given a phone call a couple hours confirming it. Everyone else was passed out from partying (that's my confetti gun pointed at Ben) so I raced through vindictive thoughts for about an hour or two before falling asleep again. Thank goodness for friends like Velma, who sent some comfort and words of solace and advice.

We met up w/Ben's friends and ended up at a Chinese/Asian restaurant for lunch, which included ice cream on the house. After heading back to the party house for video game action, we napped before heading to south Philly to meet Joy for dinner at a bar that served vegan food along w/the usual bar fare. She had hung out w/a mutual friend who had asked her why I go to random places to make art. Many think that I could flourish if I settled in one place, "got a job," and worked from there. But it's not time for that yet, though I like to think that I do have a plan that will unfold slowly. When I'm 80, it will all make sense.

[This was the "arts and crafts" table at the party where you could decorate your own cup. A very yummy homemade cake is under the lid in the back.] On the eve, mom got me a scrub and massage at the sauna, and I got a long-overdue haircut. We had yummy tofu soup before heading home. Ben arrived in the afternoon and we swapped out luggage before embarking on a stressful drive to Philadelphia, but got there in time for a good dinner w/his friends before their party. His friends are sweet and thoughtful and work hard to be inclusive, which involved strapping an electric guitar on me in hopes that I would rock out (I failed. Somehow my fingers forgot the five chords I used to know). Yesterday, I said, "I don't have health insurance!!" when we walked in front of oncoming traffic, so after that, they would all surround me while crossing streets to protect me. Nice boys are the best.

During the party, the boys were trying to figure out a name for the new year, and came up with Y10K. Ben decorated his party cup with sticker letters that spelled "YIOK" and Kevin used blue tape to spell it on the basement wall. Being typographically picky, I assumed they were all letters, and figured it was another William & Mary (their alma mater) inside joke. 24 hours later at dinner with Joy, Ben explained the slogan to her and only then did it come together in my mind.

Like I said before, everything will make sense in time!

Settled and not

[Soon I will run out of Canada pics and will have to take current ones. But I like the cushion of time off from shooting.] I forgot to say that I had found my favorite dress of the season, by Doo-Ri Chung. It reminds me of the rainbows in Korean tapestries. I had met Doo-Ri briefly when I was working in SoHo and she still had her little shop there. She was on her way to something big then, and it just keeps blowing up, which I love to see. Today was delicious: reading The Writing Life, working, watching "The Snapper," having good home cooking, and eating yummy red bean buns.

Along with that were two requests from friendly acquaintances for advice/leads. While sending out the info, I realized again that I know a LOT more about my field than I give myself credit for on a regular basis. I have tons of valuable, sometimes random, but always pertinent-to-someone information. I'm becoming the person I wanted to be years ago - feeling around in the dark, finding things, continuing on after they've been illuminated, growing richer all the while, and seeing w/my hands that this tunnel is much longer and more convoluted than it first seemed when I squeezed into the hole.

Sometimes I've wondered if I could make a living as an advisor of sorts, but I can't get my head around how that would actually work w/o getting ugly. Due to a few burns, I've also gotten paranoid about being taken advantage of. I always assume some kind of propriety, tacit limits on how much should be asked of me after I've already given a lot, but that isn't always the case. I love helping people, but at the same time know that too much of that takes away from my own work, especially since I am prone to overdoing. But I also ask for help from those who are wiser. So I'm not sure how to balance, especially since I want to stay in the abundance camp: as long as I continue to give genuinely and in a positive spirit, it will all return, and there truly is enough for everyone. So I loved reading this today, as a reminder:

One of the few things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is the signal to spend it now. Something more will arise for later, something better. These things fill from behind, from beneath, like well water. Similarly, the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful, it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes.

--Annie Dillard, The Writing Life

Year-end organization and surprises

[Welcome to Montreal's Chinatown!] I finally got most of my hanji videos in one place. I don't know why this took so long. But I am learning that as organized and on top of it a person can be, it doesn't really matter b/c TIME is so crucial to getting enough perspective and energy and wherewithal to properly tell a story.

Also, I had worked on an article for Fulbright and they published it on their applicant blog (though I only just found it today when I thought, "hm, have they done anything with that revision yet?"). Here it is! Maybe soon I'll get motivated enough to pick the right photos to un-privatize on flickr so you can see the jiseung story (hanji weaving).

Montreal, sans mots

Oh, Canada!

We took a quick weekend trip to Montreal yesterday, returning tonight. It was a wonderful mini-vacation and I am so glad that we went. It was funny to see how drivers in Ontario and Quebec differ, and Ben had to remind me at one point when I was driving and complaining about all the congestion that we were in an urban area, instead of the boonies that I've quickly become used to driving through.

After checking in and getting a map of the city (we went pretty much cold, no plans, no recommendations for anything to see), we walked to the Grande Bibliotheque and then down to the old city. It was a brain-twister to try to function in French after working so hard to get my head to work in Korean. But it's always a good brain shake-up.

There were carolers and we walked around the little streets and peeked into the science center and walked on the water (ice) before heading back to pig out and drink yummy cocktails at a steakhouse. I love how biker- and pedestrian-friendly the city is. When we walked out, there was all this noise of fireworks, and we saw a lovely show - and it happens every Saturday night in December.

We considered a pool and workout date this morning but it turned into successive naps. We had walked through Chinatown on our way back to the hotel last night, so we went back for a ridiculously delicious and satisfying lunch at a Vietnamese place. I haven't had good Vietnamese in forever! It made me very happy. After a little bit of looking at the big mall shopping areas and and underground, we drove to little Italy to shop at the big market.

Somehow, we managed to stop and run errands before coming home and cooking another delicious meal of bacon-wrapped scallops and grilled asparagus. I am daunted by the workload, plus all my strategic packing for the holidays, but think I will be refreshed tomorrow and ready to have a productive 24 hours before hitting the road for Boston, NYC, Philly, and NYC again. And we will definitely visit Canada again! That was exactly what we needed.

Onggi's allure

I can't stop looking at all things onggi - a type of pottery made by craftsmen in Korea, for food fermentation and storage. It started while reading the Jane Portal book, b/c I had found a reference to how onggi potters were often Catholics who did it to avoid persecution, hiding out in the countryside and working. I thought about Frank's research and so before I told him about it I looked online for more info and then found this fabulous article about the folk traditions and rituals surrounding onggi by Robert Sayers, who did a lot of the fieldwork on a Fulbright years ago in Korea.

Michael sent me this image he found, and then I happened upon a set of two videos showing an onggi potter at work, using a kick wheel. The first part is the beginning of the onggi, and in part two, you can see his leg working a little before 6 minutes in. But then upon further inspection, it turned out that the videos were made by Adam Field, who did a 10-month apprenticeship in Korea, about a year before I was there, learning the tradition from the national intangible heritage holder. I couldn't stop watching the videos: the glazing is my favorite, and then the firing, and of course he did a great one of himself in action.

I only stopped to cook dinner once Ben came home. Otherwise I would have watched all of them in one shot, here.

This morning, I read a NYT article on people earning a living off of Etsy and how hard it is. As if it would be easy to operate your own business, doing all production and marketing and distribution and blahhh. But even the title was funny to me, about your hobby being a lot of work. A big reason that traditional crafts are dying out, not just in Korea, but all over the world, is that they ARE all-consuming. It's always back-breaking labor (or eyeball-straining or arthritis-causing or any other kind of crippling), and it takes all of your time and energy, and you don't have much money, and you don't really get to take vacations. No one is interested in that kind of lifestyle anymore; it's too hard for us softies. But I still like to think there can be some kind of balance struck so that the people who still do the work get fully supported so that they don't have to do it and starve, or quit and survive. It kills me, watching the father do the decorations in the wet glaze with his thumbs, b/c it's so simple and deft and beautiful. I'm not saying that everyone has to give up their whole lives and bodies to keep it alive, but maybe just a bunch of people giving something, to keep that sweep of the hand moving.

A fun drawing show in Berlin

[I sent drawings in the summer and have already forgotten which but they are in Germany now!]

Dear Sirs and Madams, dear artlovers,

We kindly want to invite you to the following lecture in the context of the exhibition Anonymous Drawings N°10:

Thursday,December 17, 7pm
Lecture with Dr. Andreas Schalhorn / Kupferstichkabinett Berlin:
In Grenzen grenzenlos. Anmerkungen zu Qualität und Vielfalt der Zeichnung.
(in German)

A preview of selected drawings you find here.

kind regards,
Anke Becker /bluetenweiss

Press from Miami

I just got the e-version of the Caribbean Art World Magazine, which has fabulous coverage on Diaspora Vibe. Marcel and Marina were a delight to meet and talk to while I was there, and do amazing work (plus they drove down to Miami from Maryland to do Basel and the related events - hardcore!!). Scroll all the way down to read about DV in "Featured Gallery" or click on the interview w/Rosie and on the right sidebar you can see thumbnails of five of us who did artist talks on Dec 5. I love to see everyone on the backdrop of my pieces; I totally miss the vibe!

Catching my breath

Turns out that Daniel had sent me a bunch of other photos and even a video, but it had landed in my spam folder. Thank goodness I found out before it was too late, b/c his shots are hilarious. Here I am, clutching my lifeline (the computer) and probably explaining that the stitching is done with hanji cord.


Rud was excited about how he could affect the artwork by simply walking by, so Daniel shot it. The rest of my pics, most of them in the two long posts I did recently, are here. Oh, and yesterday I was so tired of my outgrown hair that I chopped a bunch off the front myself. I haven't done that since the summer of '99 in San Francisco.

Meanwhile, back north, I spent the whole middle of the day cooking and preparing for lunch and dinner. Ben and I stopped at a huge supermarket w/fancier items than the ones here when we were on our way home from the airport, and it's no wonder that I splurged on tomatillos and jicama. I did salsa and salads today, vacuumed, cleaned, and now I am ready for a nap. I took the trash outside and it felt just like winter. I remember being in Vermont in January a couple years ago and how it's still possible to work in cold and snow and ice. As long as you're warm enough.