We engage in hazardous and exciting activity, in the exploration of unknown territory. We meet new faces, engage in risks, and meet uncertainties, head-on, full-force, without apologies.
When all else fails, write what your heart tells you. – Mark Twain
Thanks for visiting! In this phase of my life, I am conducting and facilitating conversations and interviews and documenting thoughts and details in an attempt to uncover and reveal new insights and surprising or arresting ideas. Please review and let me know your thoughts.
For now, enjoy my short and small introduction.
Most unusual
There are too many experiences that are ‘normal’ which is why I follow my own peculiar path. Born in a city that was considered peculiar at the time, traveling in a basket from the womb to the steps of a police station in Seoul, flown to a white tundra of sweeping snow and mesmerizing blue and green eyes, people with blonde hair, then raised in a suburb, made to differentiate itself from the urbanity of Minneapolis and St Paul, I now reside in a most unlikely place for a Korean-born woman to exist. I am a vehicle, a spectacle, a wondrous orchestra of an American heritage inside the skin of yellow and bronze and wearing black-brown hair. My eyes are brown and deep, and my face, though sullen most of the time, is full of expression, going from sadness to grief in a flash, and then on a dime, turning into a little bit of happiness, sometimes delight, over the most simplest of things. These emotions set the stage for a piece de resistance, an unusual, yet marvelous infusion. I am an object of desire. Rectifiable. Definable. Undeniable. I am a subject of discourse. Suggestive. Adaptive. Captive. I am a person, a place, and a thing. I can be whatever you want me to be. I can be the key to your happiness. I can also cause dismay. I’ve been abandoned. Tossed. Ignored. I’m invisible to the majority. I’m divisible by the nation that has made me into what I am today. Girl. Friend. Daughter. Mother. Companion. Woman.
There are too many experiences that are normal, which is why I follow my own unusual path. Born in a city considered peculiar at the time, traveling in a basket from the womb to the steps of a police station, flown to a white tundra of sweeping snow, round, blue, green eyes, blonde hair, then raised in a suburb, made to differentiate itself from the urbanity of Minneapolis and St Paul, now I reside in a most unlikely place for a Korean-born woman to exist. I am a vehicle, a spectacle, a wondrous orchestra of an American heritage inside the skin of yellow, bronze, black-brown hair. My eyes are brown, my face, from sadness to grief in a flash, and then on a dime, turning into a bit of happiness, sometimes delight, over the most simplest of things. These emotions set the stage for a piece de resistance, an unusual, yet marvelous infusion. I am an object of desire. Rectifiable. Definable. Undeniable. I am a subject of discourse. Suggestive. Adaptive. Captive. I am a person, a place, and a thing. I can be what you want me to be. I can be the key to your happiness. I can also cause dismay. I’ve been abandoned. Tossed. Ignored. I’m invisible to the majority, divisible by the nation that has made me into what I am today. Girl. Friend. Daughter. Mother. Companion. Woman. Fair-weather marathon runner, wanna-be downhill ski-er and moped driver, cross country and trail running enthusiast, a writer, striving for means in expression, someone indebted to a sense of belongingness, where I can give, share, and be a part of a meaningful and collaborative relationship. Join me!
At home, you might find me with some Fitzgerald or a random short story, some watercolors. I have a word processor and I enjoy journaling, writing stories. To unwind after a hard day, I can be found dancing to random music, dancing by myself. The other day it was, “I didn’t mean to turn you on…” Last night it was, ‘Burn it Blue.’ You might discover me in a quirky mood, on the dance floor, making eyes with the bass player. Karaoke is alright by me but mostly because the concept of singing in front of a bunch of wiley folks terrifies me. (I love it.)
anthology 