Adventures in South Korea

Well here I am, writing this blog at the wonderful Hooyong Performing Arts Centre in South Korea. I am here for a month, as I was chosen as one of nine artists from around the world to participate in their artist-in-residency program. I am a long way from home, but feel incredibly welcome here and am already soaking up as much as I can.

My main purpose for being here is to work on the script for the verbatim project I am currently developing (with the help of many others) back in Flint. I can't describe how wonderful it is to have such a beautiful place to work. While I write, the members of the resident theatre company (nottle theatre company) rehearse for their upcoming production of La Casa De Bernarda Alba (or, the house of Bernarda Alba) by Lorca. Watching them rehearse was fantastic. Obviously I don't understand the dialogue, but knowing the play I am able to follow a lot more than I thought I would. The company have a wonderful aesthetic, and I am already getting many ideas for the production of the fires play (which will begin rehearsing a few weeks after I return to Flint).

This experience is giving me a lot to think about my discipline. I find it very difficult to focus on writing or artistic endeavors at home. Perhaps there are too many distractions, who knows? However, I do know that I hope I can keep up this work ethic when I return. My brain is working overtime thinking of ways in which to do this...

Speaking of distractions, while I'm getting a lot of work done and feel very productive, I'm also using the opportunity here to relax, work on my tan a little, and explore the area. This afternoon (like the company) I took a day off from work and used the opportunity to borrow a bike and go for a little ride!

The bike I took was quite a different ride to my trusty 10-speed at home (I miss her...), but I managed to get the hang of the gears pretty easy and was glad that it was a mountain bike as I encountered some pretty mega pot-holes along the way! The seat was far to low and I really should have adjusted it before I left, as the entire ride I felt a little like a clown on one of those mini cycles. I think my knees will be sore tomorrow...

I took the recommendation of a few of the company members to head through the rice fields towards the river. I packed up a little supply kit with the essentials (water, a book, an orange, my ipod) and of course my korean phrasebook in case I got into any trouble along the way.

It was a pretty uneventful ride. I couldn't get as close to the river as I had hoped (it was warm and my feet fancied a little paddle), but it was nice to have some alone time and go on a little journey. I was reminded of why I love cycling so much. You see such a different world than you do traveling by car, bus, or plane. It's just you, your thoughts, and the road.

Here are a few shots of the journey:



Setting off through the rice fields



A happy little tree!



The closest I could get to the river, where I ate my orange.

I'm hoping to make it to Seoul for a couple of days while I'm here. I hear it's a very cool city and I hope to be able to explore it by bike, but we'll see!

One Year On

I recently celebrated the one year anniversary of my return to the US.

It has been a a tumultuous twelve months with it's fair share of ups and downs. In my last post I wrote about my Uncle's illness and while his battle was brief and bravely fought, he passed away towards the end of February. It was (and still is) a difficult period for my family. I think one of the blessings of my return to Michigan has been the fact I'm able to spend more time with my parents, particularly as my Dad continues to come to terms to life without his younger brother.

Winter is hard enough in Michigan, but grieving the loss of a family member made it pretty bloody awful. To make matters worse, this winter seemed to never end. It's finally beginning to look and feel like Spring now and I think I can confidently say we've seen the last of the snow for a while.

I was able to continue the riding throughout the winter, although there were days where I opted to leave the bike at home and strap on my winter boots instead. I also moved into my own place at the end of January, so it's an easy walk to downtown Flint and the University. I wasn't sure how I'd get on living a more solitary life, as despite being a few months away from turning 29 this is the first time I've actually lived on my own. This was more out of necessity than choice as in London, it's just too expensive to live on your own. Occasionally I miss the communal aspect of living with people and in the past I've been blessed to share a home with some wonderful people. However I think the solitary life is good for me at the moment. It allows for a lot of freedom, time for reflection, and I do have some wonderful neighbors who provide me with fresh eggs from their backyard and plenty of good times.

Professionally and artistically, I am still pinching myself at how great things are going and I'm feeling more comfortable living and working in Flint for the foreseeable future. I feel a lot more comfortable with teaching now, and for the first time in my life I feel I am finally seeing the fruits of many years of hard work and studying. I've received multiple grants for the collaborative play I'm working on, and this project is gaining a huge amount of interest and attention. I've mentioned it briefly in previous posts, but in a nutshell I'm working with some students to create a play based on interviews with people discussing their experience with arsons in the city. We have a huge problem with arson fires in Flint, and there are many sides to the story that have not been told, or are rarely discussed. It's my hope that this project might change that. It really is an incredible opportunity and working on this play is helping me fall in love with Flint once more. I'm hearing a lot of harrowing stories, but I'm also meeting so many inspiring people who continue to fight against rampant apathy and despair that continues to plague our community. Riding my bike through neighborhoods that have seen several houses burn and are now littered with holes where houses once stood is often a moving experience. I'm thankful that my vehicle of choice often requires me to take the roads less travelled. I'm often amazed at how quiet my rides are. Apart from the occasional dog chasing me, I can often ride blocks without seeing a soul.

I'll be traveling again in a few weeks time as I was also recently selected as one of nine artists-in-residence with a theatre company based in South Korea, so will spend just under a month living in an old school and working on the play I just mentioned. I'm looking forward to the opportunity to get away from other distractions and focus all my time and energy into writing. It's been hard to find the time this year. This trip will mean that I won't be visiting the UK again this year and while I am disappointed I wont get to see friends and spend some time in London in the spring (the best time of year in my opinion), I am very excited at the chance to experience life in a completely different culture.

As I begin to find myself committed to more projects, I am starting to worry if I can realistically continue this car-free living for much longer. I know that even if I do "give in" and buy a car, I wont use it very often and I'll continue to use the bike whenever possible. I am pleased I was able to make it through this past year without a vehicle of my own. Although it has been an inconvenience at times, I can see how my life has greatly improved as a result.

I've been forced to live differently. I have to live closer to where I work. I have to be able to purchase my food from locally owned and operated retailers. Obviously there are also incredible health benefits to riding a bike or walking nearly everyday. I don't go out as much as I probably would if I owned a car, so as a result I've also seen a significant growth in my savings account! While all these things have clearly had a positive impact on my life, perhaps the greatest impact my car-free living has had is how it's forced me to embrace a slower pace of life. I'm a person that likes to keep busy, and always needs a project to be working on, but this experience has given me weekly, or daily opportunities to stop, to slow down, or to take the longer route.

Despite the snow, the rain, and the wind, I feel my life is better as a result of this experience. My bike and I have taken our fair share of beatings during these winter months, but right now I think we both feel pretty good.

Winter Blues

It's almost the middle of February. I'm pretty certain this is the worst month of the year (particularly if you live in Michigan), despite it also being the shortest of all twelve months.

It's not uncommon for folks here in the Midwest to develop a series case of the winter blues. Symptoms include an inability to get out of bed in the morning, a desire to "call it a night" at around 9:30pm each night, and an overall lack of motivation in all aspects of life. Sounds wonderful, huh? I'm trying my best to beat it by significantly increasing my vitamin C intake, trying my best to appreciate the beauty of the season (when it's sunny out, the snow does look quite pretty), and reminding myself that after winter must come spring.

I'm still riding, although not as much as I might like. It certainly does require significantly more effort than usual, and as I've recently moved into a new apartment which is a little closer to downtown I've taken to walking more often. After a fresh coating of snow, the roads in downtown Flint aren't great. Many of them aren't even plowed. A lot of residents don't bother to clear the sidewalks either, so most pedestrians resort to walking in the middle of the road. After a rather heavy snow storm last week, my bike was hibernating inside with me. In my new apartment, my bike lives in the bathroom (as it's so freaking huge). Earlier this week I felt he was looking a little neglected, so I cleaned him up and rode him to work.

The ever increasing pile of snow outside is a pretty perfect metaphor for how I feel this month. I'm in the middle of a rather tedious grant writing process to hopefully secure some funds to develop this play I'm currently working on, which is causing me to seriously neglect some other responsibilities (this blog, for example). However, the biggest weight on my shoulders is my Uncle's illness and the fact that his time on Earth is clearly coming to an end far too soon. My parents and I visited the family in the UK over Christmas, and his treatment seemed to be having an impact (he was diagnosed with lymphoma towards the end of last summer). However, as 2011 began, his condition started to gradually decline to the point now where he's simply being made comfortable.

I won't go into all the details of the situation and how bloody awful it is for my aunt and two young cousins, and of course the rest of my family. My parents flew over again last week in order to be there, and while I'm blessed to have some wonderful new neighbors who are very kind to me and good friends who call to check up on me, sitting inside from the cold and simply waiting for the phone call frankly sucks. When the call finally comes, I'll book my flight to join them all but before then I'm still playing the waiting game.

Even though it's incredibly hard to get out of bed and onto my bike during this winter of our discontent, when I am able to manage it I find even the shortest bike ride becomes an incredibly emotional experience. The blinding light reflecting from the snow and the bitterly cold wind slapping my face is a harsh reminder that I am very much alive and incredibly blessed to be so.

In one of my classes (the one where I am working on this collaborative play with students), we recently listened to a short interview from NPR with the actress & writer Anna Deavere Smith. She has often created work from interviewing a variety of people and then takes great care to capture their unique language and character in what becomes a one-woman performance. In this interview, she began talking about the similarities between two "characters" in her most recent piece on health care in the US, and how they were both able to articulate a similar thought, despite speaking in an incredibly different style and manner. The theme they were discussing was the idea of hope and optimism, and I found this brief interview contained exactly what I needed to hear in order to keep me going through February, and whatever will follow next.

So I'll end today with a short quote from this interview, and hope that I too can go beyond the evidence.

Anna Deavere Smith (as Cornel West):

"Hope and optimism are different. Optimism, you look out the window, you say, it looks pretty good out there. Hope says, it doesn't look good at all. Doesn't look good at all. Evidence doesn't look good at all, but I'm going to go beyond the evidence, create new possibilities based on vision, become contagious to allow people to engage in heroic actions. Always against the odds. No guarantee whatsoever. That's hope."