i'm plant-sitting

i went tokyo

and
i went mingeikan

A new start

나는 사선死線에 서 있지 않다. 하지만 지금 내려야할 결정, 결심은 나를 벼랑끝 나무에 걸린 잎파리처럼 바들바들 떨게한다. I can go a step backward. 뒷걸을질을 한다. 벼랑을 등지고 아빠다리를 하고 앉아 미스터리소설을 읽는다. 친구에게 전화를 건다. 궁금하지도 않은 이야기를 묻고 그의 이야기로 나를 채운다. 딱딱한 베이글을 물도 없이 억은 듯 속을 꽉 메우고 두리번 거리며 무엇이든 정신을 빼앗을 것을 찾는다. You already made a decision. 저 아래에서 더 이상 고민하기 싫은 듯 툭하고 내 뱉어버린다. 하지만 역시 맘이 가벼워지질 않는다. 내가 포기해야 할 것은 무엇일까. 이 차고 넘치는 허전함, 아무일도 일어나지 않은 듯 같은 표정을 짓고 똑같은 아침을 먹으며 내일을 기다리는 것. 나를 행복하게 했던 것들은 어디에서 무엇을 했냐보다 누구와 함께였는지가 더 생생하게 떠오르는 것들이다. 그리고 그 모두의 배경은 굳이 따지자면 여기 런던이지만 그보다 지난 5년을 내가 이곳에 있었다는 것을 감안하면 너무나 당연하게 생각된다. '새로운 시작'이라는 것을 하고싶다. 그리고 그것은 어떤 외부의 요인보다 내 안으로부터의 변화라고 변하지 않는 진리를 설파하 듯 명료하고 만질 수 없다. A new start.

hesitate

i can smile at you more often or more brightly but

i would never be able to like you as you are

dots

+ + +

icebergs

recycle misprints

recycle misprints

numbers

found and lost

can't remember where i put the original

an old lady at a bus shelter

i was waiting for bus 38.
an old lady sat next me
she smelled like mothballs
in her furry coat

she might haven't been out for long

she had done her hair airily soft in high arch

38 finally came but turned its destination to Not in service
bunch of people got off
disgruntled

a middle-aged woman and middle-aged man sat next to the old lady
grumbling,
raising the voices

they speak to the lady
complain goes on
she doesn't answer
just stays stiff

a guy stands in front of her,
from the shelter
water drops on his shoulder
he never realise
she looks at his shoulder
it gets soaked and soaked

for a golden holiday

the relationship

legs

an apple and a stone

i was thinking of picking up a stone since last saturday.

note no.6 from the unbearable lightness of being by milan kundera

She was experiencing the same odd happiness and odd sadness as then. The sadness meant: we are at the last station. The happiness meant: we are together. The sadness was form, the happiness is content. Happiness filled the space of sadness.

note no.5 from the unbearable lightness of being by milan kundera

'Missions are stupid, Tereza. I have no mission. No one has. And it's a terrific relief to realize you're free, free of all missions.'

note no.4 from the unbearable lightness of being by milan kundera

Horror is a shock, a time of utter blindness. Horror lacks every hint of beauty. All we can see is the piercing light of an unknown event awaiting us.

note no.3 from the unbearable lightness of being by milan kundera

...a life based on repetition. and he expected the sam from them.
...happiness is longing for repetition.

note no.2 from the unbearable lightness of being by milan kundera

Betrayal. From tender youth we are told by father and teacher that betrayal is the mostheinous offence imaginable. But what is betrayal? Betrayal means breaking ranks. Betrayal means breaking ranks and going off into the unknown. Sabina knew of nothing more magnificent than going off into the unknown.
Though a student at the Academy of Fine Arts, she was not allowed to paint like Picasso. It was the period when so-called socialist realism was prescribed and the school manufactured portraits of Communist statemen. Her longing for betray her farther remained unsatisfied: Communism was merely another father, a father equally strict and limited, a father who forbade her love (the times were puritanical) and Picasso, too. And if she married a second-rate actor, it was only because he had a reputation for being eccentric and unacceptable to both fathers.
Then her mother died. The day following her returns to Prague from the funeral, she received a telegram saying her that her father had taken his life out of grief.
Suddenly she felt pangs of conscience: was it really so terrible that her father had painted vases filled with roses and hated Picasso? Was it really reprehensible that he was afraid of his fourteen-year-old daughter's coming home pregnant? Was it really so laughable that he could not go on living without his wife?
And again she felt a longing to betray: betray her own betrayal. She announced to her husband (whom she now considered a difficult drunk rather than an eccentric) that she was leaving him.
But if we betray B., for whom we betrayed A., it does not necessarily follow that we have placated A. The life of a divorcee-painter did not in the least resemble the life of the parents she had betrayed. The first betrayal is irreparable. It calls forth a chain reaction of further betrayals, each of which takes us farther and farther away from the point of our original betrayal.

note no.1 from the unbearable lightness of being by milan kundera

... She began to teeter as she walked, fell almost daily, bumped into things or, at the very least, dropped objects.
She was in the grip of an insuperable longing to fall. She lived in a constant state of vertigo.

dead tulips

today's learning

1. forgetting takes no minutes

2. there is always outside

3. excitment and pleasure live shorter than i remembered

sometimes i don't remember what i took

oh coral

a fish

hand drawn type

a beautiful dream

i haven't had any dream for a while
dead dead sleep
but the sleep was so dead like not existing
tomorrow begins without pause
and i live another yesterday

on my way back home
i use different routes everyday
but they don't get remembered
without any landmark
i pass the roads

the day before yesterday
i had a beautiful dream
i was somewhere else with somebody else
somebody i never met
i was very happy like my heart jumping
i felt so alive
i tried my best not to forget the dream

but now i only remember that i tried
so that i repeated whole situation again and again

soon i'm not even going to remember that i was happy,
that i tried and that i repeated
and i'll live another yesterday
without dreams
with dead sleeps

d

all petals on my face
densing the breath
i don't feel my limbs
no light
my flesh lose the border