Whether it be my state of mind or the atmospheric conditions of this place, it makes one feel partially blinded. The streets are dotted with folks and the sky is streaked by a sadness of sort. The buildings are gray blocks marked by dabs of deeper gray. The trees lining my way are of greenish gray. Even the flowers at the deli stand are gray with subtle hints of red here and purple there. The bright orange of the woman’s synthetic polyester dress is somehow not orange; it is something that is trying to be orange, a murky brownish thing.

There is a layer of sadness coating everything. It makes me constantly rub my non-itchy eyes. I try to stare at my supposedly-white coffee cup, bring my eyeball close to it. It touches my left eye and I blink several times. I grow teary.

After an hour of aimlessly walking, one’s senses adapt to its troubled vision. The scent of things seem to depict the objects more accurately than the sight of them.

I navigate this place like a blind person. The view seems deceptive somehow. A persistent longing for something bright and colorful grows inside of me. For once, I wish to see something that appears the same as it smells. The bike leaning on a pole is painted yellow, but somehow I do not see yellow. Oh how I would die for the sight of a freshly blooming sunflower without this gray dust looming over my eyes. I would cry for it.

Earlier today, I went to Pratt to take care of some address changes and such. Then I got the bright idea to hop on the G train and go somewhere. At the moment, it seemed like a good idea, because man… the train was cool as ice. Then I refused to get off at the couple of stops I could have gotten off at, because the train was so cool. Then it started heading towards an uncharted territory, so I had to get off, drag my butt to the other side of the platform and hop on another G. Then I thought, I was born on the Summer Solstice, stop being a wuss. So I got off the Bergen stop. Then I did my typical wondering around, looking at things and people for about an hour, all with a dead zombie look on my face and an iced Starbucks beverage hanging from my left arm. Around 5pm, I realized I had nothing to eat the whole day. In fact, yesterday’s dinner consisted of chips. I treated myself to a Turkey Club at a nearby deli, and then I took off on a bus. I was half awake on the bus. Got off of it, walked home. I ate my sandwich like a zombie who hadn’t seen a brain for a week. With my trusty fan running, I fell on the floor. I didn’t bother to move. I fell asleep or passed out. I can’t remember, my brain feels like a mush. I wake up about three hours later, and I can recall my dream for the first time in a very long while.

I am with three or four other people. I think one of them is my brother. Another is an older girl I knew from Jersey. One of them is probably my friend i used to know in high school. She used to wear red a lot. Then a couple more of them are just blurry as fuck. We are in a huge lot of tall apartment buildings. These friends keep talking about a party, a celebration. I’m just going along with whatever. We end up in an apartment unit. There’s nothing on the tables, no jackets thrown over the sofas. We stand in a circle, about to discuss seriously about this party, this celebration. It is called a red party. We will make all kinds of food items that are completely red and consume then. The older girl is preparing the main course. Apparently, the kitchen has been stocked before hand, and all the cabinets are decked out with things that will allow us to make very red things. There are two problems that we face at the moment, two very serious issues. First of all, there is a pot of plant on the table all of the sudden, and that must be gotten rid of. Second, somebody must bring dessert. It’s quiet and no one is making a move. There are no volunteers. Then I volunteer. Eye contact is made and they start to cheerfully make plans again.

I am given a huge pillow case filled with things. It looks just like the one I washed a couple of days ago, except that it is the size of a bed sheet and filled up to about twice the puffiness of a regular pillow. It’s not too heavy, just really bothersome. I am told there is a key to a room upstairs and some cash in this functional bag. Then somebody puts on of some latex gloves, picks up the potted plant off from the ridiculously clean table and carefully places it in my arm. This is the same plant I gave Christine a couple of months ago. It seems to be doing healthy. Then the kids stand around giving me the solemn ’go take care of it’ look. I ask them what kind of dessert they are looking for, then I am given a very serious lecture about what you can consider ‘red.’ It cannot have a red coating with a white stuffing inside; how incredibly deceptive. It must not be decorated with leaves or pretty much anything that is not red. Any type of drizzle or jelly you want to use to spice it up must be red. The syrup cannot be a translucent red that can be seen through. It must be a dense, rich red. The desert must not smell like vanilla or chocolate, because they will make one recall the color of white of brown when smelt. There is no questioning whether they can taste like vanilla or chocolate. At the end of the lecture, I am given a stern warning: “it must look red, it must smell red and it must taste red. We are celebrating our origin, do not fuck this up.”

I leave those wackos behind, get on the elevator and move up a few floors. My feet lead me to a steel door, and my hands rummage through the pillowcase and find a key. It fits. This is another room exactly like the one I just left. Clean, quiet, unoccupied. I know exactly what must happen in this room. I place the pillowcase by the door. I hold the potted plant away from my face and take it to the kitchen sink. I flip the pot, and the plant, along with some dried dirt, plonks into the clean stainless steel surface. I wash every bit of the mess into the drain. Somewhere along this process, I think there was a chopping of the plant to make it go down better. The sink is clean, dried with a paper towel, and it seems like nothing happened here at all. I leave the room with my pillowcase and the empty pot immediately, thinking of dessert ideas. I thought of buying store made red-velvet cupcakes. It makes me laugh a little, because that might get me beaten really bad by those crazy friends of mine. I get on the elevator again. This time, there is a blonde woman in the elevator. The ground-floor is already pressed. I am not feeling guilty about the murder, but the look this woman is giving me through the whole 10 flights of floors or so is making me think maybe I should be.

I was going to go to a grocery store around the area, but I am taking an awfully complicated combination of public transportation. There must have been a bus, a cab and a train, but when I look up, I’m in a ferry boat, getting off on an island. I know this feeling of adventure and the smell of ocean hovering all around me. I have been here before, and I know where I am. This has to be the Galapagos Islands. The ferry driver even looks slightly Hispanic. I am overjoyed at the fact that I am here. Somehow, there are no sea lions, iguanas or turtles to be seen, but I know there are wonderful things for me lying beyond those trees.

I follow a path. I have completely forgotten about the dessert, the red party, the arborcide and my crazy friends. I am skipping on my feet with a slight residue of the thought that, somewhere along the way, I have to stop by a grocery store for something. I see a field of grass to my left. There are some people enjoying a picnic, walking around with their loved ones under the canopy of some very very tall trees. Then the trees start moving, and the trees turn into giraffes. Slow and gracious, they make my eyes tear. I had a beautiful walk, but the sky is growing dimmer. I am reminded of the fact that my friends might be done cooking and that I might miss out on this awesome party. I figure it’s around 8 right now, and they’ll probably wait for their desserts until 8:30. I am on an island after all, a bit of a way to travel back. When these thoughts are buzzing around my head, I find myself on a long seaside promenade. There is a neat cement road with giant boulders and gray rocks laying on either margins. To the right, there is the ocean. On some of these heavy rocks, we see a species of ape. They look like chimps, but their furs are replaced  by porcupine needles. Despite their looks, they are friendly. I reach the end of the walkway where the landscape seems to say something like, ‘no further interesting things to see here.’ I turn back, head to the docks. I see that Hispanic driver standing on a small wooden plank, about the size of a cardboard box. He is magically balancing himself and rowing with a big tree branch. He slowly floats away from the land, and I run towards this spectacle. I beg him to take me with him. I explain about the red party, how I must get back before 8:30, the grocery store, the red velvet cake…all with a huge pillow case on my back and an empty pot, in which ,at this point, comfortably sits two wild baby birds, to a man standing on a cardboard-sized platform on the water which is probably incredible difficult to balance. He keeps telling me, “so sorry, so sorry.”

So…I’ve recently finished reading this a few days ago, and it’s one of those books that tempt me to read it a second time.

This isn’t a book review; I just wanted to express how much I loved it. I am convinced that Tom McCarthy is a genius. I mean, the story is of a boy named Serge Carrefax, his childhood and his life afterwards. It’s a good story, but what I’m crazy about is the author’s use of language, the letters themselves. The writing does things to the reader without the reader realizing. For example, when Serge is in that museum with the record playing, there is a paragraph where you just can’t read straight. What I mean is…you know when you’re reading a book, and you’re supposed to read one line and move on to the line after it for it to be coherent? This part was quoting the words coming out of a gramophone. I just couldn’t locate myself in the paragraph and I kept jumbling up the lines and thought I was going nuts… Then I realized that, within the story, the needle on the gramophone was stuck and it was skipping words and repeating things. Maybe the lines just happened to be printed that way, but I’m pretty sure the writer knew what he was doing. This is a very small example of the intricate poetry you will find in this book. The ending was a storm of words; you are not sure what each part means or even if it makes sense or not, but you are left with a strong impression of chaos and psychological confusion. My hat is off.

Published last year, definitely one of my top 3 contemporary novels.

I’ve been taking a lot of walks around everyday for no good reason.

언제부터 사람이 이리 무관심하고 차가워졌는지…내 머리속에 나의 모습이 어찌 정직하고 올바르지 않겠습니까. 다시끔 더럽지않은 거울을 바라볼수있는 기회들은 갈수록 뜸해지는고, 내 망각의 자신은 점점 부풀어서 기가막히게 이기적인 인간으로 변해갑니다. 잊지 맙시다, 뿌연 유리위에는 내가 빚어낸 허수의 손자국들이 언제나 시각을 가리고 있다는것을. 어리석은 판단에 잃어버린줄도 모르고 있던 것들은 이제 기억속에서는 찾을수도 없고, 읽기 힘든 그림으로 남아 하루하루 희게, 누렇게 바래갑니다.

this is the abysmal state of my studio right now. cramped. messy. chaos.

this was my show card front & back.

group shot :) I remember we used to be freshmen once upon a time…

installation of my paintings

during the opening

omnomnom reception food

view of the installation in the little room

chairman meow stopped by.

what else….errr….a sneak peak of my website layout?

ahaha this really doesn’t show much….bad preview.

First of all, we had a hell of a time leaving the JFK airport the day after the heavy snowfall, so it begins with the delay at the airport.

Luckily, we eventually depart to arrive at the Ecudorian capital, Quito.

12.28.2010) DAY 1: Quito

Quito is has an approximate elevation of 9,200 ft. Hence, it does get chilly despite its proximity to the equator. Added bonus, the clouds seem to hover very low. We spend the night at Quito, and the next morning we take a plane to the Galapagos islands!

12.29.2010) DAY 2: Santa Cruz Island

A short bus ride from the Baltra airport takes us to Puerto Ayora, where our boat, named Queen Beatrice, is waiting for us. We are introduced to the staff, the crew and the rest of the total of sixteen passengers. We get back on land, to the Charles Darwin Station. Already, we are encountering wild iguanas and sea lions. At the Darwin place, we meet these huge tortoises and learn about the preservation efforts. Then some free time at the local town Puerto Ayora, the last civilized settlement we would see for the rest of our stay at the Galapagos. I should have stocked up on toothpaste back then. In the evening, we get back to the boat, eat dinner, attend a meeting to be informed about our next day’s activity and sleep in our comfy cabins.

12.30.2010) DAY 3: Dragon Hill (I. Santa Cruz) / Rabida

Over night, the boat sailed to the West side of the Santa Cruz Island. Our very first excursion is to the Dragon Hill. The sand is very red. A short walk into the woods reveal a lagoon, and not too far from this spot, we see a very very very yellow iguana. The guy napping in the picture is a marine iguana by the lagoon.  The more colorful ones are land iguanas. So, throughout this trail, we spot around six or seven land iguanas. At one point, our naturalist guide, Walter got really excited about a certain species of finches. I couldn’t really tell the difference between that one and the other finches that we saw, but I think it was somehow significant. Then our group popped out on a different side of Dragon Hill where there were lots of bright red crabs, blue water, white sand…my mom had secretly worn her swimming suit under her clothes earlier that day, so she got to swim. I was hiding in the shades. Then, we got picked on a dingy boat, and went back to the Queen. In the afternoon, we sail to the Rabida island.

Next excursion is to Rabida! We saw lots of sea lions being lazy on the beach, then we took a hike through the hills. The soil was really red, the trees were really white, the water was really blue…it was picture time.

I think we were also planning to see some flamingos, but Walter got sad when we were by the lagoon, because they haven’t been coming around recently. Back to the boat. Then we went SNORKELING around Rabida! Please, if anyone is planning to go…you MUST get an underwater camera! I am so sad that I didn’t have one….I was tempted to plunge my Nikon in water, but…yeah, that’s not happening. I’m just going to say: the underwater experience was stellar. Sharks, boulder sized stingrays, sea turtles, swimming with sea lions, schools and schools of neon colored fish, right within arms-length. Anyways, back on the boat, exhausted, dinner, drink, hot tub, sleep.

12.31.2010) DAY 4: Sullivan Bay (I. Santiago) / Bartolome Island

Next morning, we find ourselves at Santiago Island, an island of two volcanoes. At Sullivan Bay, you see an unending horizon of cooled lava. It feels strange walking of this metallic field that display a countless variety of shapes and cooling patterns, such like different pasta shapes…well, must be a heaven for a geologist. We see hawks, grasshoppers, lava cactus and just an impeccable view.  Back to the boat.

A short sail takes us to the Bartolome Island. This is where you get the landmark view. We walk up a big hill at the top of which is a viewing spot. I think…it was maybe around 350 steps to the top. There, you can see a double sided beach of the island and also look out to the volcanic mountains and island further out. My brother’s face is pink from the sun, so he is eager to get back to the boat. You might be able to make him out running in the above pictures. (He IS there…just squint) Back to the boat. Hoorah, more snorkeling! More amazingness.

As we are sailing to South Plazas, on the Eastern side of Santa Cruz Island. We encounter a family of dolphins racing us by the front of the boat. It was kind of like a fire drill…Henri, our tour coordinator, announced that there are dolphins, then everyone shrieked and ran outside. Yeah, definitely like a fire drill. We had a special dinner & an after party for the new years eve. Champagne. I think an effigy was burnt as a part of South American tradition, but I slept early from exhaustion.

1.1.2011) DAY 5: South Plazas Island / Santa Fe Island

Happy New Year! In the morning, we visit South Plaza. We see the seagulls with the red ring around their eyes, land iguanas, marine iguanas and…a hybrid land-marine iguana! coolness. This island is colorful. We meet more sea lions. Then we go up to this cliff thing which I really liked. There is a community of the seagulls on the walls of the cliffs. I got a good picture of a couple of marine iguanas on the cliff at this spot. Back to the boat. Set sail.

…to a nearby Santa Fe Island. First order of business, more snorkeling! Woohoo. After this snorkeling session, we eat lunch on the boat and go out snorkeling again! After a while, your legs get tired, but really…the fishes do this weird hypnotizing business that makes you just forget about being sore. After a short trip back to the boat to change clothes, we go out on yet another excursion to the island. This time, on land. There is a community of sea lions on the beach where we land. We are intrigued by a baby sea lion we a letter Z shaved on his butt. Then we walk into the island. We see lots of cacti. I think these were the really big Prickly Pear Cactus. We go back to the beach to watch the sea lions some more…because, really, you can never get enough sea lions. They even swim next to us shortly as we drive our dingy back to Queen Beatrice. We finally get to see a couple of those famous Blue-Footed Boobies on the rocks on the way back. Tired. Dinner. Drink. More hot tub. Sleep.

1.2.2011) DAY 6: North Seymour

We get up super early but miss the sunrise. :( We are now at North Seymour Island, north of Santa Cruz. This is a bird island. We’ve been seeing these huge frigate birds flying around our boat, but this is where they sit down and nest. Also, more Blue-Footed Boobies! We see four or five male frigates with their red balloon things inflated. This is so that they look pretty in front of the lady birds. The males are dark overall with red necks. (no pun intended) The females are dark with white chests, and the babies are dark with white heads. Above is a female frigate. Baby boobies did not have blue feet but they looked like extremely fuzzy white things with googly eyes. I love anything with googly eyes. Then, by the rocks, more sea lions were chilling out.

I think this one is trying to wave us goodbye, (or just saying ‘sup to this friend) because after we got back to the boat we packed and headed back to the air port. Bye adorable little things.

Back at the hotel in Quito, contemplating the awesomeness we’ve encountered the past week. We go to a shopping district, a steak house, more drinks at night…being back in civilization yet still feeling the floor move as if I was still in a boat. Goodnight.

Next morning, the third of January, we depart to New York. Thinking of the snow was kind of scary.

After thought: No doubt, this is definitely one of the best family vacations we’ve had in a while. I mean, the Adriatic sea cruise was nice, but it was a little bit too ‘sit back, relax’ type of a thing. If you dig adventure and nature…Galapagos is the way to go. I’m so glad everyone on the boat were such nice and pleasant people. All in all, amazing memories were made to be remembered for a very long time.

Oui, not to forget, for the full flickr stream…CLICK below picture! :)

I am currently waiting for my mom & my sister to arrive from Geneva. Their flight is delayed and I figure it’s been snowing over there. They should be here in a couple of hours. Meanwhile, I shall summarize my semester, since I haven’t been updating for a while.

The high point of this semester was the senior painting survey. The low point was…just being really cold I guess? I am applying to grad schools, looking for internships…etc. I am uber excited for the family vacation next week. Where am I going? hint: expect pictures of…turtles! tortoises?

Favorite class of the semester? Astronomy. Here’s my final project:

(Click here to see the working application!)

The Tidal Locking Visualizer! tada~If ye do not know the what tidal locking is, wikipedia has a good article on it. (here) This class has made me doubly excited about this vacation, because I will get to see a full-on nightsky! I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Milky Way. I couldn’t even see the lunar eclipse a few days ago. It will be this city-dweller’s first baby step into star-gazing. Oh fun.

Then I made an 18-poem chapbook for my poetry class. An excerpt with the cover:

[Crossing]

Careful stepping into shallow water
Pretty things will trick

Search for signs that scare
Pretty things are slick

See that these eyes do not follow color
red green red green red

I found a star in the water
There is a star in the water

(g)listening

I know I don’t generally upload my paintings on the web, but here’s a tiny peak at a painting done this semester:

That’s about it. Merry Christmas everybody, I am off to enjoy my break!

delightful place with some critters