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EDITOR AND EDUCATION CONSULTANT
EDITOR AND EDUCATION CONSULTANT
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Eye of the Optimist-Ode to Abelard
| Posted on April 11, 2015 at 10:39 PM |
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Ode to Abelard Oh, how I love thee! -too many ways to count It is not your beauty alone And I don't want to say, "I own" No, it is because you are there But never in my hair We have drawn our boundaries And they we respect We each have our space And so live in grace He does his thing, And I do mine Yet our hearts e'er do entwine Precious moments we do share We pay attention and care He's a positive force, whatever the weather What's more, we have our meals together Though tastes may differ He does not mind if I'm the breadwinner, And he is always there when I'm home for dinner He greets me with his song For which all day I long I don't care if he is shorter And has not built a career Sure, I do most of the chores But he never bores His antics are quite entertaining And his hygiene he's always maintaining He's keen on fitness, though addicted to seed Still, he gives me all that I need He sings to me in the morning when I get up And at end of day when all is set up He sticks to his routine, and takes early rest After satisfying meal Tranquil evening He never wears me down with gripes I never tire of his extraordinary pipes To boot, he sure knows how to dress Guests, he never fails to impress Yes, he plays around a lot, but it's just pure fun It's all platonic; I'm sure he won't hurt anyone I love thee for all the above You're here with me purely for love.   |
Eye of an Optimist-poem "Day is Gray"
| Posted on February 2, 2015 at 5:00 AM |
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DAY IS GRAY Gray is the colour of everyday-- Slow down, if you dare, and you can see it When the engine is at rest and the buzz in your head quietened; It is the shadows of your kitchen when you are washing up, The stillness of morning after breakfast when you do not have a plan, The moments spent alone waiting for the bus, The ambiance of the fast food restaurant And the hue of solo travel. Gray, the painters will tell you, fills up huge portions of the palette As it occupies the spaces between the other colours; As such, it is omnipresent-- It is what the rainbow does not cover up, The backdrop to all our activity And it fills every crevice and cranny in between the forms we make or assign, It follows the edges of our selves and our doings in various tones. It is our reality that defies even the busiest cacophony of brilliant colour Which is because we can never hold the ground at the height of excitement for long; The song has to end, the music has to stop and take a few breaths. Despite this fact, "Play on! Play on!" "Louder, higher!" "Encore, encore! Are the insistent cries of the many who want to avoid the grayness. Some are in constant pursuit of exuberance, by one means or another, Like money or chemical, like danger or violence, Like applause or victory, orgasm and sugar, But there is no escaping the ordinary, no matter who you are or how you try to fix it up. It is a scary fact of life. Gray glares back when you look directly at it. It makes truth as plain as day, So you may as well embrace it. Besides, we might discover hidden beauty and treasures deep in the canyons of gray. Surprisingly, grayness offers enough light to see clearly And refreshes, cleaning out the ear and mind So that something new can be noticed and recorded. It is full of potential for the adventure of discovery, a frontier yet to pioneer The way naturalists are now exploring what has been there right in front of our eyes all along: Feral mammals, common insects, salamanders, and such Following the rush of exoticism over the past decades. Wonderful marvels are being noted and tracked in the dullness of everyday life; It is all very hypnotically intriguing and undeniably revealing, The everyday recognized as the domain of the living. Gray could be good and good for us. Embrace the gray--it means we are alive! Anyway, it may be the extraordinary in the apparently ordinary Face the gray without fear. Seek, see, learn and be glad. Busan February 1, 2015 |
Eye of an Optimist-new poem
| Posted on January 31, 2015 at 9:08 PM |
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Art of Struggle These days I’m writing for a change It used to be all picket and
placard There’s a need for all that Of course But it takes more. No denying the contest— The lines are drawn, The writing’s on the wall There has to be struggle That said There’s more to it Than just leaning on the
opponent, Making counter claims and
thrusts, Simply opposing. Commitment to resistance is
reaction Commitment to the new is pro-action. Protest can become a way of life It’s easy that way Doesn’t take much thought But where does it get us, really? The main task is to carry a
vision Of something quite radical (For human rights and well being) And mobilize others To create ways to make it come
true. Knowledge, understanding, Networking, just causes, Demanding, And coordinated actions, All kinds of actions— The people must do all that United as one nation, too. To succeed, we need An additional element And it is creativity To solve problems And open up a new path In sum, it is an art. I’ve been on the frontlines In the throes of popular
movements And still am to this day I’ve earned some badges Learned some hard lessons Paid my dues And continued my education Now, I’m working On the artistic angle Which can do a lot To inform, expose, inspire,
discuss and critique Do not underestimate the artist Who applies her craft To struggle and social change I, for one, am still alive Perhaps now more than ever I’m still fighting Whatever good it does You must decide I can only think, try and write Employ my brain, my heart And my experience As best I can. Busan January 31, 2015 |
A Year of Living Positively-Day 345
| Posted on November 30, 2014 at 7:12 AM |
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I just posted
invitations to my birthday celebration. I’ve invited around 25 people with whom
I’ve been talking and hanging out with more than others this past year. I recently wrote a
new poem about aging, and it would be appropriate to post it here now. The
metaphor is a blooming flower. Actually, I used this photo of yellow roses with
the invitations. It is a photo of a bouquet that a class of students bought me
on my first birthday spent in Busan.  To Bloom Again The afternoons are
warm They invite
surrender One’s whole body
seems to smile Immersed in nature
of such fineness and glory Flowers spring
forth Yet—hold on a
moment: It is fall The irony of the
situation does not escape Flowers are not
supposed to bloom now How should we take
it? To let austere
concern reign, Or accept and
rejoice? Oh, to bloom again
in the autumn of life! Who would not want
to? When you see
rhododendrons glow with the pleasure And daisies nod
with delight, Roses ooze splendor… Who would or even
could deny such beauty, growth and joy? In that case, to
heck with propriety and convention! I’m all for
reinvention. Renewal—out of rust
and decay—makes sparkling jewels. Why not? I am sympathetic For I, too, am
blooming in autumn Some may think it
is funny, And others may
frown Just because
convention says, “No,” to that We women especially
are supposed to dry up past forty We are supposed to
look tired, Give up our power
and relent “They’re not
supposed to have strong opinions, Show off gladness, wisdom
and knowledge of years, Grow and bud new
hopes and dreams, Accomplish new
things, gain power.” Yet, it does not
have to be like that! Busan, November,
2015. |
A Year of Living Positively-Day 303
| Posted on October 19, 2014 at 7:48 AM |
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The Peace Poems Busan event went well. Ten people showed and most presented something. It was a
good atmosphere that invited discussion. Mostly, the people were friends of J’s
and mine, but they are keen and politically committed to such activity. We fell upon a nice
space, after all. It is a space given over to community use and activism, with
a café to help pay for it. We got it free today through a favour granted to a
friend involved in setting up the event. We all decided to
make this a continuing project and we plan to carry forward by doing another
such event next month. We video recorded the recitals and readings, for we want
to post a record of the event on our webpage and promote our continuing
activity. Y was there and she took photos for us. I presented two of
my compositions. Someone read J’s original poem for him, and J read that of a
friend who could not be present. Then J sang a song in Korean. The venue
provided a poem which they had left written in chalk on a blackboard leaning
against the wall. Y read a poem by a published writer, and the speech from
Charlie Chaplin’s last film, the satire of the Nazis (“I don’t want to be an
Emperor”). B came, though she just listened. A young Iranian attended, and she
finally opened up and read a poem by Kipling (“If”). J’s friend A, who denied
every having written his own poetry at first, pulled out one of his own,
finally, and recited it. It turns out that he is an activist who went to
Gangeong to join in protests against the construction of the US military base
for several weeks. The people running the café are involved in anti-nuclear
technology actions. I still have the
flu so have kept my activity to a minimum all day. I have been wanting to sleep
a lot. It is 8:45, and I am about to hit the hay. |
A Year of Living Positively -Day 263
| Posted on September 8, 2014 at 4:18 AM |
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I spent a perfect day at the beach. It was sunny and hot, and the water was calm and cool. It was relaxing and refreshing. I had two swims, once in the morning then again after lunch.  I got there between nine and nine-thirty to sit in the sun then go for a 20-minute swim. Then I ate tuna fish and crackers while sitting on a bench under some trees. After eating, I went for a walk before deciding on a cafe where I could get some tea and stay out of the sun for awhile. There in the cafe, I finally wrote a peace poem. My one project during this sojourn was to write poetry expressly for the peace poetry reading event that a colleague and I are trying to arrange in Busan in October. I need to have a new poem on the subject to read there. Here is the latest. Peace It's idyllic here On this beach A kind of peace within easy reach Today in the sunshine Waves lap and swish The weather is fine I get what I wish Today, at least I've escaped the beast But that's not what I'd call-- What I aspire to at all. Life just can't be like that all the time. Peace should be discussion Without fear of repercussion Conflict is the norm Just as much as nature's storm We can be free We don't have to agree In fact, it is our right For which it's quite worth the fight Yes, it's something people ought to defend Against the control and repression others may intend We are not all equal --That's the point. Tastes, moods, ideas cannot be conjoint We differ in what we prefer And to others we sometimes defer Yet we can choose to put aside passion For the sake of principled compassion Freedom should not mean we get what we want Before others who lack and to them flaunt No, for all are free to feed basic human need To this end, we must all assist That is the way to have peace, if you get my gist Let's unite against too much greed Stop it and make the greedy heed Yield to life! Reject strife! Object to rule by might! Fight for life! That's the kind of peace I'm talking about Take it to the streets, wave it and shout! Daepohang, Sokcho City September 8, 2014 I think Sokcho Beach is my favorite beach in all Korea. For one thing, it is not very crowded. For another, there are no big hotels and apartment buildings. As well, there is a green park full of pine trees along the beach where one can seek shade, have a picnic and exercise. I don't sunbathe that often. In Canada, I'll spend a day at the seaside or lake shore once in a while, and I really love the outdoor pool at Kits Beach in Vancouver. I don't spend much time at other beaches in Korea. In fact, it's been over a year since I last put on a bathing suit and went outdoors. I am not used to it at this stage of my life. I enjoyed staying on this beach today, though. In fact, I liked so much that I got a little sun burnt. I left the beach around 2:30 and went back to my room for a shower and siesta. I cooled down and now I feel refreshed. I found some lotion in the room and I applied it to the burned areas on my body. I hope the burn is not troublesome later. I am in the lobby using one of the hostel's PC's while I wait for L. He said he wanted to meet me here and join me for dinner after his day of hiking. We agreed that I'd wait for him to show between five and six o'clock. A couple of girls arrived just before I came out here into the lobby. The viewed the dormitory room and decided to stay here, so I have lost control sole control of the whole room and am no longer solo. I have to share with them tonight. A third woman will take up the fourth bunk tomorrow night. Oh, yeah. I paid for one more night here because I am having such a swell time. |
A Year of Living Positively-Day 244
| Posted on August 17, 2014 at 10:14 PM |
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The
Sound of Violence Go
away darkness You’re
not my friend I
don’t want to see you again Every
time you come along We
know that something is wrong You
sneak up while we are all sleeping To
ruin the world you go acreeping The
screams ring out and explode inside my brain Here
it is again! The
sound of violence. Hollywood
loves that roar They
produce it more and more Guns
ablazing Property
razing Bodies
falling, here and there Persons
mauling everywhere It’s
hard to tell who’s good or bad And
chaos makes the audience glad They
love it when things go, “BOOM!” The
thrive on prospects of doom It’s
exciting to see cities aflame What’s
frightening an amusing game Yeah,
lots of guys get off on menacing dins It’s
cool to immerse themselves in sins It’s
ridiculous how shot heroes spring back And
frivolous how they attack Cameras
make the impossible true Special
effects plan mind tricks too Bodies
fall all over the place Cars
keep crashing on the chase Buildings
blow up, crumble Speedy
aircraft smoke and tumble What
does it all mean? Violence
appears just routine They
say, “Relax! It’s just entertainment.” I
say it’s mass concern, sensitivity containment Violence
deafens the ears For
people not to hear the tears It
is justified and claims its right The
proof presented in all its might It’s
a habitual informant To
convince hearts to lay dormant In
the background, the machine hum Drowns
out voices, makes us dumb It’s
white noise turned bloody Oozing
life liquefied and ruddy Civilization
is losing its grace Barbarism
and cruelty taking its place We
may have believed in progression But
the conquest realizes retrogression Technology
once evoked fine dreams Yet
it elicits terrible rage and screams The
wars far away Are
closer to home today They
can get you Your
friends and family too Whole
towns are being slaughtered Grandmothers,
kids and daughters You
can see, and can listen so that you hear The
soldiers of greed as they draw near Their
drones and jet fighters precede them Don’t
let state and oil feed them You
can act, the will is yours We
can refuse to be involved in their wars Don’t
fall for the illusions Let
go of your self-delusions Train
your ears to hear the truth Don’t
believe, “eye for eye” and “tooth for tooth” Make
a pledge to ditch the dope Open
your mind to peace and hope Speak
out to what is unjust It’s
not a choice, we must, we must! You’d
better heed the warning For
it all could be over in the morning Stop
consuming wanton destruction Join
the struggle for a new construction Learn
to sing a new refrain Create
a chorus of “Justice shall reign!” Sure,
it’s not easy, but not too late To
unite as people and put things straight You’re
responsible so get into gear Don’t
hide your head in fear The
time is now We’ll
find out how The
point is to shut up the machine Reverse
the direction of what’s been Curb
violence, reclaim peace Shout
it out all through the streets Chain
up the predators in silence Retake
the podium, media, audience Quell
the screams and cries Counter
all the evil lies Once
we have created the space Then
we can the future face Let’s
challenge the contemporary rants Begin
by composing some alternate chants Good-bye
darkness! Let
in the light! We’re
shooting for what’s right We’re
setting out, taking flight The
beauty of life we defend We’ll
sing that melody ‘til the end! Violence,
your voice will get weaker We
know see your cracks, know the strength of the meeker Against
the sound of violence We
ring the bells of defiance Chartering
out a new course We’re
building a new force That
feeds the world, worships life Battles
against domination and strife BEWARE THE RAINS What if the rains never stopped? Two days of a nonstop intense downpour Is enough to drown the habitat Never mind forty! They talk about the heat And how the sun flares and falters And that there are freezes too Yet the rain is another sign Of what fate we humans could meet any day Life is short It is ephemeral It is on, then off Why waste it, then? For all we know, Earth is unique We don't know what's going out there now When experts surveil the universe The look deep into the past To see humungous explosions And finished stars contracting infinitely There is enough destruction without us adding to it Can’t you hear the thunder, and see the lightening? For all we know, we are here by chance Whether by fluke, or design Creation is precious It is also temporary Face it; that is true. Stop making more rain! When the kegs are full And you are on the verge of drowning Don’t help the rain in those times! Moreover, collect it and conserve Use it frugally, as per need Share You may be the one who desperately needs it one day If you are not drowning instead To the drowning person, toss a life line as and whenever you can It is good policy It is for your own security Do you want to be responsible for death? I’m sure it is not your job I’m sure there are repercussions if you do Today, it pours relentlessly What about tomorrow? We don’t know for sure We don’t know much So, wipe the smugness off your face You, whoever you are, are fragile too Like castles and banks Like the deer and flowers Like the volcanoes and stars Like cells and antibodies Like empires and corporations Your power does not amount to much, on the scale of things Don’t think otherwise It’s all bigger than you You may as well go with life, not against it Be with your nation Not opposed or isolated You could need it badly one day You never know Anyway, you can’t win, really, if you are There is no swimmer or paddler strong enough That idea is laughable Observe the rains Pay attention Make hay while the sun shines Sip the energy, taste its delights, enjoy the fruit And learn by enlightenment: SEE Drink you fill of life, but not that of someone else’, Not to excess! Live and let live Ask yourself: Do you really have problems, Other than this universal predicament? (Is the predicament a problem, anyway?) What constitutes a problem? Who as one, actually? Who makes it? It’s all relative and you belong to an intricate interconnection in spite of your self There is no escape Furthermore, ego is no match for it Water beats earth and fire Only rocks survive because they are the residue of life past They are not alive Are you? If you want to be alive Then, live! But join the humans and make shelter together Community is stronger It could rain again tomorrow You never know if the rains will stop And if flooding will conquer. August 18, 2014 |
A Year of Living Positively-Day 195
| Posted on June 29, 2014 at 12:08 AM |
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Writing for a Change To you, history might have a
different meaning Not the perspective to which I’m
leaning You might want to point out great
men Or talk about facts that fate may
open I look at who has the powers Who lives up in the gilded towers And who is languishing under the
whip While some of others’ labor and
blood sip And out of oppression indulge in
delight Unfeeling champions of archaic
birth right Allied in defense of the right of
might I write for a change I know what you do --It’s the same ol’ same old A story much too often told Then framed in words of progress
and glory Creativity, to you, is telling
lies Colouring evil with tints and
dyes Dressing up crimes with pretty
bow ties Masking hatred with sweet apple
pies I write for a change It is an alternative to find an
alternative A brand new modern way for the
people to live What’s happening to whom? Push aside your media to make
room For the voices of the majority To communicate their priority To build a conscientious community And do away with the notion of
impunity Regarding your crimes against humanity And all the rest of your bloody
insanity I write for a change Me, I want to honour the Other Take sides with my sister and
brother Unite in struggle for a fresh
start Do what we can with the tools of
our art: Investigate and agitate A new world help to instigate; I want to create to assist in
building the “we” And serve to say what “we” see The people are a burgeoning story Headed for a grand redeeming
glory They have a lot to tell Patrimony they would never sell Memory and dream are sacred
treasure Wealth that one could never
measure They have the resources to create
the new They’ve already shown what they
can do But what they’ll make won’t be
owned by you Take that big fact and give it a
good chew Busan
June 29, 2014 |
A Year of Living Positively-Day 194
| Posted on June 28, 2014 at 7:10 AM |
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It has been a nice, slow day. I
have done a bit of writing and some housework. I took a short nap after dinner.
Why push time along faster than it has to go? I am in a hurry to make the most
of my time, but I do not want it to pass quickly! I heard an interesting morsel of
TV drama script today and it got me thinking. The program is a new series about
a guy who has been released after 22 years in prison. He is 40 years old when
he gets out. In one episode, he talks about his perception of time as a
solitary prisoner in a cell without windows on death row. (Unlike me, he must
have been wishing for time to pass by quickly.) When time seems to pass very
slowly, he says, one becomes more sensitive to the idea of the future.
Anticipation seems more exciting or scary. Sometimes anticipation is pleasant,
and other times it is not. That is one problem with
goal-setting. It can make you antsy about tomorrow. I sometimes find myself
thinking about my future activities too much. It can give me a nervous stomach
for no other reason than I am preoccupied about it. Sure, having goals is
mostly positive in that it can give you better direction and identity, creates
impetus that swings you into action, and lets you think about what is possible
to experience and accomplish. When you have reached a goal, there is the
satisfaction of achievement plus other benefits such as a new job, more
knowledge, a better relationship, more money, new experiences, and so on. The TV drama character also compared
the life of waiting to that of action. He talked about the outside working and
business world being one set to the ticking of the clock, where so much is
measured in terms of time, and our activities are assigned to blocks of time on
the grid of a time-table with its sharply defined limits. I guess he understood that as
another kind of prison. It is also an extension of the legal justice system, is
it not? We can meet with punishment for not following the clock, and punishment
can be severe. If you miss time from work or are late for an appointment or
ritual, for example, the consequences can be drastic. Being unnecessarily confined to a
schedule is unhealthy. It is good to create a time-line as part of
goal-setting, and healthy to have a basic routine, and wise to set time limits
for all your activities so as to economize on time and utilize it well.
However, being strict about time and watching the clock all the time is
stressful and anxiety generating. It can be liberating to be on
down time or vacation time when you have few appointments and it is not necessary
to rush around. One should welcome slow days and cherish the luxury of “free”
time instead of fretting about wasting time so much. Your body needs to repair
itself, for one thing. Anyway, slow days can actually be productive. It is
conducive to creativity, for example, because it gives you time to process
things and reflect. While it seemed slow and I did
not experience it like work, I actually got a good chunk of work done. I edited
a 20-page translation. After that, I caught up with the previous blog. (Working
late and feeling tired last night, I postponed writing the day’s blog until
today.) then I put through a load of laundry and washed the floor, the latter
being a chore that I am generally reluctant to do, proving that my energy was
up today. While the laundry was in the machine, I dashed out a couple of
anecdotes for the Confessions book. I
never had lunch but was fine, probably because I had eaten beef for supper
yesterday, which gave me more energy for this morning. In the early afternoon,
I made a quick call to Canada then decided I should use some of this time to
get a report writing task out of the way. I typed up the report of the
international activists’ conference that I attended a month ago. It was a big
chore, requiring me to summarize half of the reports in our meeting folder. This infection must be passing, for
I felt more balanced and energized during the day. I woke up with a terrible
headache, which is unusual for me. It was not a good experience and I expected
another odd low-energy and therefore unproductive day. Yet I took one of the
Tylenols from the prescription that I have been stock piling and felt fine. On another note, I was thinking
about poetry as a form of journal writing. That is because I inserted one of my
poems into a section in the Confessions
file. I thought it was fitting because it recalls and describes real
experiences I had and the topic suited the theme of awkward and clumsy moments
of social interaction. It is about the difficulties of riding the buses in this
region. I have read it to others and they thought it was clever and funny, you
see. I thought of using it after I wrote an anecdote about my experiences
taking cabs. It struck me that poetry can
operate as a form of journal writing if the content is expressly autobiographical
or at least about personal or work experience. Why not? It can even be creative
non-fiction, I suppose. The difference is that the style is not prose. Also, it
does not rely on direct reportage, but rather employs symbolism and breaks
rules of normal grammar and meaning in order to attempt to express what is very
difficult to put into words, such as the subtleties or bring out nuances that
are not usually perceived. Poetry helps one to consider and study an experience
or person or object from different angles. It too can be implemented as a tool
of learning and discovery. |
A Year of Living Positively -Day 114
| Posted on April 7, 2014 at 6:21 AM |
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It happens sometimes that I recall how many bakeries in South Korea do not make baguettes. When I think of buying some bread, a little refrain about this problem often comes to mind: "Paris Baguette has no baguettes." There is a major franchise named "Paris Baguette", and based in California so I believe, that has many stores in South Korea. In fact, there are such stores in most urban neighbourhoods. Despite its bold name, I have yet to find a baguette in one. The idea that a bakery with "baguette" in its name would not offer baguettes is kind of humorous, at least on the days when one is not too frustrated at the lack of real Western wheat bread in this country. I was contemplating getting a baguette to go with a chum salmon steak for dinner as I made my way down the street from campus to my abode when, yet again, this refrain struck up a chorus in my head. There is I decided it was about time I completed a ditty on this topic. I did so as soon as I got home. (No, I did not pick up any bread of any kind, deciding to have the rice and oats mixture with the salmon.) Here is is and I hope you like it. Paris Baguette has no Baguettes! Paris Baguette has no baguettes, But they sure as hell have cafe You can while away the hours Admiring goods made of all sorts of flours As you're sipping your cup of latte And considering, next time, you'll try a mate From walnut bread to bean thingies of red Not to mention sweet potato paste And pizza treats not to everyone's taste You might spot an eclair Or try a "croissant" if you dare And even germanesque pastries might be there The ones filled with apple or those made with creme cheese Yes, there is white bread, rye bread and rice bread But the alien grain-fed palate is hard to please Though there are birthday cakes in any flavor And sparkling beverages to savor Bonbons and cupcakes Cookies, puffs and sponge cakes Wafers, madeleines and mud cakes Don't get your hopes up to high Just settle for something new to try EXCEPT that weird confection sugary item That must be some stand-in for what we'd call creme And don't even get me started on green tea (It really is too much for me!) And what's used for mustard would offend the French The ketchup, well it'd raise a stench! Abroad, we DON'T LIKE sugar in our bread or condiment That is a principle, elementary, a simple fundament And, for God's sake, just keep the corn out of it! It's not funny, you shouldn't have it, so just let go of it Non, Paris Baguette has no baguette Today, or any other They don't care what you'd ruther B. Waldern (c) 2014 It is preferable to be able to laugh at the frustrating and disappointing aspects of the society of residence when living abroad. That is a good demonstration of positive thinking approach in action. |
Thinking and Doing It Positively
Thinking and Doing It Positively
Household Treasures
11 January 2021
I heard an interviewee speaking over the radio talk about cherishing items in the home. It is one way to explore and enjoy surroundings without traveling, he said. I'll try it.
A lot of objects on display in my apartment are artifacts from my travels, ironically. They refresh my most poignant memories of precious and mind-opening explorations.
Sitting atop the filing cabinet next to my desk are to souvenirs from South Korea, where I worked and resided for 10 years. After such a lengthy stay, I have loads of memories prompted by numerous artifacts of my experiences in that country. These two are among the best reflections of cultural and historical particularities of South Korea. They are a framed photo of a hero central to the labour and national democratic struggles and an ornament from folk culture in the countryside of the southern part of South Korea.
Jun Tae-Il was a courageous student activist leading actions against the last dictatorship in his country. He represents the heart of the movement and the victory for democracy. He became a martyr when the police fatally shot him while he was demonstrating in the street in Seoul, the capitol. The ornament is an ceramic fertility fetish, an image of a penis from one of several such parks in the southern region where I used to live. This part of the country remained tribal longer than other parts, so folk traditions such as shamanism and superstitions have endured. Fertility monuments were erected (pun intended), of course, bring about more healthy children. The foreigner exploring such parks giggle at the sights.
Next to the filing cabinet is a bookshelf. One of the most noticeable objects near the top of this piece of furniture is a tacky, plastic, white alarm clock. It is significant because I bought it to ensure I woke up on time on my last morning living in South Korea. I had an early flight. As a small travel alarm clock had recently failed, and I was not sure my phone alarm would wake me fully, I picked up a cheap clock at a local general store. I don't use it as its ticking is noisy, but I have not thought to give it away. It remains perched on the shelf, deprived of a battery, as a reminder of my departure from the ex-pat life and return to Canada.
I also have items saved from two trips to Cuba, one in 2003 and one in 2019. Both trips were organized political events. The first took me there with a political choral group to meet Cuban choirs, learn some of their songs, perform with Cubans, attend the May 1st rally, meet labour associations and tour the island for two weeks. I am looking at a typical replication of a sketch of Che Gevarra which one can find easily in street markets. Our choir, supportive of the Cuban revolution, valued the Cuban revolutionary democracy, social arrangements and political principals which that image, the most famous in all the world, represents to millions of people. It inspires and gives hope. I remember strolling through the streets, visiting markets and restaurants, chatting with locals and attending all the meetings on our hectic schedule. I have other little treasures such as a ceramic, hand painted ashtray, photos of our Cuban comrades, and an African-Cuban, wooden statuette.
Above my desk hang a pair of water colour paintings in wood frames. They portray sites in southern Manitoba in the general area where my grandparents met, married and bore my mother. They feature two views of the banks of the Red River, a river highly important to Canadian history. There were battles against invading Americans launched there and a key struggle of the Métis nation. The city of Winnipeg lies nearby, which used to be the industrial hub of Canada until the Panama Canal opened up and undermined the Canadian railway system. I have only passed through Winnipeg by car. This area is not one I remember, for I have never visited it.
On the floor near my desk lies a wicker hamper. I have mixed feelings about it, but it has been very useful, so I have kept it. You see, it belonged to my father's second wife. My father remarried this odd, older person rather quickly after my mother passed, which denied her children necessary time to adjust. I carried resentment about her, but chose to avoid them rather than say anything or show my negative feelings. As I said, it is a practical item for it holds linens and Christmas stuff and allows aeration through the woven stems.
I originally bought the filing cabinet to organize research, not academic information but information found in the course of activism and stabs at political journalism. It therefore stores records of several international and regional conferences. Though I purge it once in awhile, there are still clippings, leaflets and pamphlets. They cover issues such as Canadian mining firms abroad, human rights cases, privacy rights, student concerns and transportation. I have been replacing old articles and folders with my own writing pieces. Among them are also old, self-published newsletters addressing local and international issues, some of my published articles and unpublished poems.
Household Treasures
11 January 2021
I heard an interviewee speaking over the radio talk about cherishing items in the home. It is one way to explore and enjoy surroundings without traveling, he said. I'll try it.
A lot of objects on display in my apartment are artifacts from my travels, ironically. They refresh my most poignant memories of precious and mind-opening explorations.
Sitting atop the filing cabinet next to my desk are to souvenirs from South Korea, where I worked and resided for 10 years. After such a lengthy stay, I have loads of memories prompted by numerous artifacts of my experiences in that country. These two are among the best reflections of cultural and historical particularities of South Korea. They are a framed photo of a hero central to the labour and national democratic struggles and an ornament from folk culture in the countryside of the southern part of South Korea.
Jun Tae-Il was a courageous student activist leading actions against the last dictatorship in his country. He represents the heart of the movement and the victory for democracy. He became a martyr when the police fatally shot him while he was demonstrating in the street in Seoul, the capitol. The ornament is an ceramic fertility fetish, an image of a penis from one of several such parks in the southern region where I used to live. This part of the country remained tribal longer than other parts, so folk traditions such as shamanism and superstitions have endured. Fertility monuments were erected (pun intended), of course, bring about more healthy children. The foreigner exploring such parks giggle at the sights.
Next to the filing cabinet is a bookshelf. One of the most noticeable objects near the top of this piece of furniture is a tacky, plastic, white alarm clock. It is significant because I bought it to ensure I woke up on time on my last morning living in South Korea. I had an early flight. As a small travel alarm clock had recently failed, and I was not sure my phone alarm would wake me fully, I picked up a cheap clock at a local general store. I don't use it as its ticking is noisy, but I have not thought to give it away. It remains perched on the shelf, deprived of a battery, as a reminder of my departure from the ex-pat life and return to Canada.
I also have items saved from two trips to Cuba, one in 2003 and one in 2019. Both trips were organized political events. The first took me there with a political choral group to meet Cuban choirs, learn some of their songs, perform with Cubans, attend the May 1st rally, meet labour associations and tour the island for two weeks. I am looking at a typical replication of a sketch of Che Gevarra which one can find easily in street markets. Our choir, supportive of the Cuban revolution, valued the Cuban revolutionary democracy, social arrangements and political principals which that image, the most famous in all the world, represents to millions of people. It inspires and gives hope. I remember strolling through the streets, visiting markets and restaurants, chatting with locals and attending all the meetings on our hectic schedule. I have other little treasures such as a ceramic, hand painted ashtray, photos of our Cuban comrades, and an African-Cuban, wooden statuette.
Above my desk hang a pair of water colour paintings in wood frames. They portray sites in southern Manitoba in the general area where my grandparents met, married and bore my mother. They feature two views of the banks of the Red River, a river highly important to Canadian history. There were battles against invading Americans launched there and a key struggle of the Métis nation. The city of Winnipeg lies nearby, which used to be the industrial hub of Canada until the Panama Canal opened up and undermined the Canadian railway system. I have only passed through Winnipeg by car. This area is not one I remember, for I have never visited it.
On the floor near my desk lies a wicker hamper. I have mixed feelings about it, but it has been very useful, so I have kept it. You see, it belonged to my father's second wife. My father remarried this odd, older person rather quickly after my mother passed, which denied her children necessary time to adjust. I carried resentment about her, but chose to avoid them rather than say anything or show my negative feelings. As I said, it is a practical item for it holds linens and Christmas stuff and allows aeration through the woven stems.
I originally bought the filing cabinet to organize research, not academic information but information found in the course of activism and stabs at political journalism. It therefore stores records of several international and regional conferences. Though I purge it once in awhile, there are still clippings, leaflets and pamphlets. They cover issues such as Canadian mining firms abroad, human rights cases, privacy rights, student concerns and transportation. I have been replacing old articles and folders with my own writing pieces. Among them are also old, self-published newsletters addressing local and international issues, some of my published articles and unpublished poems.
Conversational News
Conversational News
10 January 2021
It is so good to be able to express myself and have contact with readers through this blog again. The loss of the access to my blog along with other aspects of confinement and restrictions really affected me. There were added unsettling restrictions due to circumstances, even including access to my games when Adobe Flash Player was removed. I was feeling the mounting stress of rising COVID cases and the awareness of the damages inflicted by this disease as well as the damage inflicted by states that remain focused on helping profitable enterprises more than addressing the disease and health care and financial interventions fully and equitably. Most such as Canada are handing the responsibility of pandemic management to individuals. Very unjust!
I had been handling the conditions of the pandemic fairly well, but emotions were catching up to me in December as I personally began to feel tired and stressed. I started to feel irritable and alarmed. I looked forward to two weekends at home over Christmas and New Years, but the employer wanted me to work on the Saturdays. Saturday being the heaviest work day for me with five hours straight teaching and two hours travel, I had been wanting relief to get a chance to rest and calm down. I ended up taking the Saturday following NY Day off, which certainly helped. I am much better now.
I did not carry through with my usual practice of personal assessment and planning in December as is my habit. I was too agitated. I did not want to reflect on this past year, actually. Not then.
Anyway, there is not any change in my goals. I generally carried through with financial, livelihood, social, family, health and growth goals. However, the social and family goals were frustrated by Covid-19 rules. However, there are elder relatives with multiple health problems whose mental health was being upset by the situation, so I have been visiting with them in cafes and such. They are better now. I have also been aiding an elderly neighbour whose health, already in decline this year, was getting worse partially because of Covid-related restraints. (Her degrading sight and hearing, as well as shaking and loss of balance, caused her to stop driving permanently, and skeletal issues caused her to stop regular exercise. She is worried she will be forced to consider entering a facility while many care homes are in crisis!) My exercise regime was also compromised. The local fitness center remains open but I perceive it as risky, so I do not go there. Aside from some hiking and walking to accomplish transit and errands, I haven't been exercising much until recently. Now I do some yoga, lunging, stretching and weighted arm raises sometimes. I am prevented this week because of an inflammation (hemorrhoid caused by lengthy sitting!).
One big factor affecting stress and anxiety levels is news reportage. State and private corporate news services, like most enterprises today, try to streamline by relying more on tech and web browsing to find news topics. There are fewer reporters and there is less extended, investigative reporting. For the past decade at least, such services have resorted to "conversational journalism." It is an adjustment to distrust of news and official authorities during a trend of democratization, I feel. However, it tends to keep popularity and viewer or reader stats in mind. Topics can be sensationalized by rehashing events and speculation. Commentators are brought in to discuss as are senior reporters, but the discussion is not very productive in that it does not lead to increased knowledge. Rather, it keeps generating more questions. Conversations often entertain unanswerable questions, particularly because there can be no resolution. They just push the topic and stimulate possible answers to stir up controversy and alarm in order to improve ratings. Pertinent information might be omitted if it actually answers a question. Once audiences abandon a thread, they turn to some other topic and start over. It is really unconscionable because of the innuendo, speculation, rumour, omission, lack of investigation, assumptions and biases.
The COVID coverage is a clear case in point. Partial information is supplied, such as a medical official's announcement that is partly based in some truth. The announcement is questioned. Opponents are recruited to present the false arguments. Sideline topics are raised to create more friction. Proper sources are ignored. Questions are recycled and spin round and round with no conclusion. The affect is understandable: alarm, anxiety, fear, stress, accusations, complaints, etc.
I follow a couple of doctors who produce daily videos to update viewers on scientific developments and explore reasoning behind government and medical decisions regarding the pandemic. I rely on Dr. John Campble and Doctor Moran. Find them on Youtube. Campbell is the most digestable, for he uses plain English, which Moran is more technical. The latter seems to be addressing people in the medical field. By following Campbell, in particular, I can see the gaps in the regional and national news reporting. I can see that they are lagging behind the news by ignoring or failing to search for reliable information.
We're Back
We're Back
07 January 2021
Apologies to my followers and viewers. You have been very supportive and encouraging for many years. I might have disappointed some of you who were looking for new entries from me.
Let me explain. VISTAPRINT changed its platform last year. When they did that, the method for making blog entries changed. I had no information from them about what to do. It simply appeared that I know longer had any blogging service.
However, I just spoke to a VISTAPRINT rep who guided me. I can now write blog entries, as you can see.
It was a strange year all the way around. Things seemed kind of more chaotic than usual. I felt agitated and stressed last month for no definite reason. I had trouble sleeping. I felt exhausted.
My general astrology reading asserted that the pulling away of Jupiter, one of my planets and a very powerful one, from Saturn would make Sagitarians feel exhausted by the end of December. Despite the restrictions imposed because of the pandemic, it does indeed feel like I worked and accomplished a lot (activism, teaching, writing). Things are supposed to get easier for us Sagges.
There was added stress because of the effects of the pandemic. Not only that but worse, state aggression seemed to increased around the world, causing civilian mass responses. Though I had handled it pretty well until the end of 2020, I guess it finally got to me and I started soaking up some of the stress and anxiety emitting from my region and beyond.
2021 is starting out a bit weird, too. Just look at yesterday's events. U.S. Whitehouse invasion. Solar flare sending rays that caused several storms, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. More lockdowns.
I wish all my readers well. I will resume entering focused pieces when I have more time. Please stick with me. Thank you for your comments to date.
Ed Wise
TEST
TEST
15 January 2020
THIS IS A TEST OF THE NEW PLATFORM FORMAT AND BLOG ENTRY SYSTEM.