I came online, once more in yet another dalliance with an online presence or some semblance of it. Call it my need for a short attention span theater of the mind. The bulk majority of people whether online or off have the attention span of four year olds give or take.
Despite these pretty well known facts about culture life, about the not so new “normalcy” of existing in this information overload, I decided to resurrect my own cute little personal blog/journal thang, and why not ? I’ve so much to share with you, and there’s also so much I’m not going to bother with. Chock it up to a tedium of telling, or the exhausting drain of granular details even I myself don’t care much for…much less any intrepid person deciding to read my “stuff”.
I work as a Digital Art Director, but I’m mostly a poet + writer first and an artiste + designer second, even if it was the other way around growing up. I grew up in an era when CD and vinyl album art inspired me into graphic design well before the invention of photoshop and illustrator.
It’s summer of 2018 right now. In Chicago, we just celebrated the 4th of July. People are still firing off all of their paychecks worth of fireworks in the city. I’m presently residing in Albany park, in what was once commonly known as “Ktown” (Korea town). Now it’s transformed into taqueria town, and there’s a tamale vendor on every corner. Personally I love it, I like the street traffic, the many ordinary citizens who pass through, and the energy. There’s some beautiful nature parks nearby that I run with my faithful hound stoops (aka sari) an there’s Lawrence fish market still there beside a strip club called Admiral theater.
I find myself frolicking in nature quite a bit, soaking up what warmth and radiance that I can. Weekends whiz past at an alarming rate. Life goes slow even when it doesn’t, and for this I”m glad. Because for the lotus eaters out there it goes in an incomprehensible blur, and they do fail to enjoy it. People seem to enjoy being exasperated, exhausted, burnt out, tired, maybe even depressed or miserable. Not because they willingly opt to but think that this is it, this is the sacrifice required to lead semi charmed lives. Newsflash : it’s an illusion, a deception and all part of the rat race. No, trying a bit more and allot harder won’t see you through. Others, better people perhaps have thought as such. People you were even envious of thought as much.
I’m unwritten poetry on a park bench right now. I’m recording seasons and drawing people’s portraits. I’m discovering things you might yawn at, hidden things, gems, secrets, life. I had to take a trip into and out of myself to regain a sense of what it was I was trying to say to myself. You see this isn’t me at my finest, it’s me at my weakest, and through that you’ll discover something of yourself contained in the cracks, in the whitespace, in the narrow margins that define our distinctive realities.
Summer of 2018 was a gorgeous season and it seemed to be only getting a bit better.