I couldn't sleep, and this is what was wandering around in my head...
First off, as much as I'd love to be original, the aka thing I stole from Creation is Crucifixion. What a great band.
Let's start off with a random fact: approximately 107 billion people have lived on planet earth so far. I didn't know this while I couldn't sleep, but as I laid in bed I was imagining billions and billions of timelines for all the people that have ever lived on this planet. These timelines could be decades long for the people that made it into old age; incredibly short for those that never made it out of infancy or died very young; and everything in between. In my little vision, none of these timelines were a straight line. Instead they created a weaving, intricate web that involved all of their interactions with every human being they'd ever met and/or encountered. These interactions could be as coworkers, family, lovers, classmates, randomly walking by someone on the street, being served or serving someone at a bar/coffee shop/restaurant, and on and on and on. What I was thinking the most about, though, were the encounters that eventually lead to friendship.
Quick, relevant, diversion:
Facebook provides some interesting opportunities. Living abroad, it's great for keeping in touch with people back home. It's also provides the chance to connect with old classmates and childhood friends, some of whom I've had little or no contact with for 20 years or more. For most of them, when I see them post something, I'm struck by how there's still an overlap in interests that would make friendship really easy to resume if we were living in the same city. As a kid, I thought I was choosing my friends because they let me play Nintendo at their house, wanted to shoot hoops, or maybe ride bikes. However, throughout my time in school there were plenty of kids that liked riding bikes, playing video games, and shooting hoops, but I was only friends with a very small number of them. It's fascinating to think that even from a young age there is likely a lot more to how we choose our friends than we might understand at the time.
Back to my web:
At the advent of humanity as we know it the web was very small and likely uncomplicated. As each new timeline started for each person to make an appearance on earth, the web would continue to grow larger and more complicated, all the way up to the present where there are around 7 billion timelines that are starting, works in progress, and stopping. For each individual, their timeline will only intersect with an incredibly small percentage of that 7 billion. In general we can imagine it as a bell curve, in the sense that some people will interact with a lot more people, some a lot less, and there's probably a general number that starts coming close to an average. Google actually had surprising little to say about the subject, but I did see one web page that suggests that if you live to 90, you might meet around 100,000 people in your lifetime, and that was supposedly being generous.
Think about your own life, and how many of those 100,000 people will ever be your friends at any point in your life, and then break it down further to how many will actually be life long friends that you know you can always count on. It likely comes down to a number that you can count on one or two hands. If you can add your toes, than you are likely someone very special. Basically, out of the billions of people on this planet, we will only interact with a very small percentage of them, and of that small percentage, it's an incredibly tiny percentage that we will call friends.
Going even further, when you think about the 107 billion people that have called this planet home, and every choice that they ever made, which resulted in the incredibly vast sequence of events that resulted in you being born, and the incredibly vast sequence of events that led to your friends being born, and everything that had to happen so that you ended up in the same city, and/or went to the same school, or had the same friends, or happened to travel to the same destination, to me it's amazing that we ever met at all, and even better that we became friends (and this is where it gets a little harder to write). I usually try to avoid words like fate and destiny, but as I lay in bed thinking last night, I was got caught up in the fact that everything that has happened that led me to that exact moment, absolutely had to happen, otherwise that moment wouldn't exist. But it did exist, so everything that has happened, had to happen. Sorry, that is super redundant. But when I think about the people closest to me, if I try to subtract one of them from the equation, then every moment from that time on is different, which means that nothing else that has happened since that meeting could ever happen. The conclusion being that I was meant to meet every one that I have met (By the way, I'm aware of the circles I'm typing myself around).
The point being:
I guess that's what I mean by retroactive destiny. For those who have impacted my life the most, I wasn't thinking about fate bringing us together in the moment. Though, if I was in my early 20s, I was likely stoned, and probably should have. However, you have now become an inextricable part of my timeline, and none of the person I am, or where I am now is possible without you. I think that is one other thing that friendship does. We all have our own timeline, but as we go, we leave and collect imprints, a shadow of sorts, on those that really touch our lives that we carry with us as we go. There are so many of you that have left your mark on me, and I carry that with me always.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
夜晚的時候所有的河水看起來美麗 (aka looking on the bright side)
A quick note before I begin here. I was on the MRT today and had to stifle a chuckle when I saw the look on an old man's face when a rather eclectically dressed young man walked by. Imagine a jaw drop mixed with eyes of pure bewilderment. I got a couple odd looks myself after being unable to contain the wide grin that spread across my face. Generational gaps know no cultural boundaries.
A couple weeks ago I finally made it back to 永和區, the district in 新北市 where Andrea and I lived during Taiwan, round one. There's a part of me that will remember living there fondly, but after a quick stroll around, I'm glad to have found a new home in 大同區. The main purpose of my visit to 永和 was to reconnect with our friends who run a Korean restaurant near our old apartment. After dinner and a visit I started making my way home. At first I figured I'd walk to 頂溪站 and take the MRT. However, after twenty minutes of walking along 中正路 and observing the new and the unchanged of the last fourteen months, I realized I wanted to keep going. Walking around Taipei at night has been a source of consistent joy for me, as the heat of the day has dissipated and the city is still a flurry of activity consisting of night markets, various forms of commerce, and the seemingly never ending stream of cars and scooters carrying passengers to their intended destinations.
I continued past 頂溪站 knowing that 中正橋 was not too much further down the way. This has been one of my favorite bridges to cross at night as it provides stunning views of Taipei, and the 新店溪 transforms from a river saturated with the runoff of the city (Portland people, think of the Willamette before the big pipe after a heavy rain on a cloudy day), to a weaving line of obsidian reflecting the lights of the city. I love it.
At this point I was thinking that I could cross the bridge and walk a little bit further to 古亭站 and take the MRT from there. It would be a good walk, and I'd still get home early enough to wind down and get to bed early so that I could wake up at 6am on a Sunday morning to go play tennis. These were my thoughts as I was crossing the bridge until I saw the riverfront path beckoning me from below. Taipei has miles of paths following the 淡水河, and it's tributaries like the 新店溪; they are especially welcoming at night as they are well lit and there is a steady stream of cyclists and pedestrians, people playing basketball and tennis, and friend and family gatherings well into the evening.
Oops. Somebody hit the pause button...
...for more than seven months. I started this way back in September. At the time I was awash in the euphoria of having recently returned to Taiwan. There were few moments I enjoyed more than walking along the river late into the evening. This memory still holds a special place, as I remember actively attempting to create a narrative as I walked, in the hopes that I would remember enough to eventually write it all down later on. One area in particular was set up as a few rows of benches that looked out onto the river. There were at least a dozen couples sitting there in different states of body language, conversation, and general engagement. There were the ones with bodies turned to face each other participating in active conversation. Others had bodies turned towards the river, but with heads facing each other as a dialogue waxed and waned, only to turn and face the river again. Then, there were those who sat next to each other, but said nothing; looking straight ahead at the river, the cityscape across the water, or looking, yet seeing nothing, with eyes and thoughts gazing inwards.
The ones who said nothing I found the most captivating. A couple of them were older and I found myself composing their story as I walked past: Perhaps they were so comfortable with each other, that nothing really needed to be said; their presence together was enough. Or, maybe a physical presence was all they had; that emotionally they had completely separated, and the claustrophobia of a quiet household got them out into the night air, but couldn't get them speaking. Who really knows? But that's why I found the quiet couples so intriguing. With a door so open to speculation, I found my mind racing to create my own version of their history.
Perhaps it feels that much more relevant when your life changes course; so it's important to:
Always look on the bright side...
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Where to go from here...
I love this:
For the longest time I always thought I was trying to take the path of least resistance. It was maybe the path of least confrontation, because I think I was constantly mistaking opportunity for a challenge I was reluctant to pursue. Most of the time I just waited for the next thing to land at my feet as opposed to actively seeking a path that would provide the personal fulfillment (mostly professional) that has so far felt lacking. But then I would find myself here and have fleeting moments of inspiration and clarity:
The air is warm, the sky is blue (and all the leaves are green), a vast urban landscape is laid out in a multitude of buildings, people, and experiences. It's moments like these where everything feels tangible and I want to grab hold of this moment and embrace it as a living object. Because maybe this time I won't allow myself to get too comfortable with whatever status quo I've established for myself. Maybe if I can hold this feeling and moment long enough I will try harder in life. But it's not something I can physically hold onto. I have my brief moment of clarity where I make grand declarations to myself that I know I won't follow through on. But maybe one small thing sticks, and if enough things stick over time, eventually things might change.
Life is fascinating. Going places, experiencing people, letting nature take your breath away. The best moments never feel long enough, and looking back feel even shorter. Some of the best I can remember like yesterday, and some have to be conjured from the recesses of memory by stories told by friends. Having entered an entirely new stage of life makes me want to embrace these memories that much more. To me, they are the most important currency. At this point they feel like the best kind of savings that I have, making them that much more precious to hold onto.
Life is fascinating. Going places, experiencing people, letting nature take your breath away. The best moments never feel long enough, and looking back feel even shorter. Some of the best I can remember like yesterday, and some have to be conjured from the recesses of memory by stories told by friends. Having entered an entirely new stage of life makes me want to embrace these memories that much more. To me, they are the most important currency. At this point they feel like the best kind of savings that I have, making them that much more precious to hold onto.
Monday, October 21, 2013
陽明山:我從擎天崗走到聖人橋 (part one)
Those of you that have heard a bit about my previous Taiwan trip might remember me talking about and/or posting pictures of 陽明山 (Yang Ming Mountain). It's a national park in Taiwan a little to the northeast of Taipei proper. From my apartment it's a few stops on the MRT, followed by a 35 minute or so bus ride up a winding road in a little bus that fits 20 or so people. Well, this is the way that I've always taken to get to 擎天崗 (qingtiangang), which as of yet is the only place I've gone in the national park area. There is a reason for this:
On a day when low clouds blanket the mountain in fog, which are also numerous, it is just as amazing. Everything feels a bit more magical, and clouds move in a way where temporary clearings tease the intrepid hiker with the surrounding views, before obscuring them in a shroud of grayish-white.
Every time I go to 陽明山 I tell myself that I'll do something different. There are other bus stops along the way that have different trail heads, and other bus routes entirely that go to other parts of the park. There are hot springs, hotels, restaurants, and I have no idea where any of those things are. I get ready to go, think about where I want to get off the bus this time, and then don't get off the bus until I find myself once again at 擎天崗.
This past Sunday was no different. It was a warm, sunny day near 士林站 where I was waiting for the bus. My stomach was full from a nearby restaurant, was listening to Summoning's "Old Morning's Dawn," and thinking about where to go this time around. My thoughts were primarily turned to 冷水坑 (lengshuikeng), which is just a couple stops before 擎天崗. I'd previously noticed a couple different trails that looked interesting, and anticipated that this would be the time that I'd finally do something different.
The bus was crowded and all the seats were taken, so it seemed that it would be a standing ride for me today; though a somewhat older man looked at me and friendly tapped his arm rest in a somewhat joking invitation as a place to sit. He then turned to whom I assume was his wife to repeat this gesture and probably explain how funny he was.
As we exited the city and began the curving climb up the road to 擎天崗, the sunshine quickly turned into clouds; which then transitioned into several bursts of rain. The bursts turned into a steady rain, and I began wondering if I should have pursued something closer in that would have kept me in the sunshine. My apprehensions were mostly due to the shorts, t-shirt, and flip flops that were a part of my clothing arsenal, as well as a lack of any sort of rain deterrent. I knew it wouldn't hurt to keep going and at least see if things would calm down. I also found myself not getting off the bus until reaching the final stop and was once again in familiar territory.
The rain had stopped but the temperature was a bit cooler than I had anticipated. This was coupled with a strong breeze and grey clouds that still held the threat of another downpour. I picked up a poncho from a small store and decided that I would take a trip down memory lane and do the hike from 擎天崗 to 風櫃口 that had been my last hike here the last time around. There's a particular stretch of the hike that transitions from the grass fields and areas of dense foliage into an evergreen forest that hold smells and feelings of home. This had turned into my main motivation for covering similar ground and I was happy to be on my way. Though I began to wonder if I had picked the wrong footwear for the hike...
When you catch it on a sunny day the views of the mountains are stunning, and while civilization is really never too far, I've always had a feeling of being transported into another world when I've come here. The air is so clean, and the tall grasses have a look and a smell that reminds me a little of the Oregon coast. When there's a good breeze on the mountain, which is often, the sound of the breeze making it's way through the blades of grass has always instilled a sort of inner calm within me.
Every time I go to 陽明山 I tell myself that I'll do something different. There are other bus stops along the way that have different trail heads, and other bus routes entirely that go to other parts of the park. There are hot springs, hotels, restaurants, and I have no idea where any of those things are. I get ready to go, think about where I want to get off the bus this time, and then don't get off the bus until I find myself once again at 擎天崗.
This past Sunday was no different. It was a warm, sunny day near 士林站 where I was waiting for the bus. My stomach was full from a nearby restaurant, was listening to Summoning's "Old Morning's Dawn," and thinking about where to go this time around. My thoughts were primarily turned to 冷水坑 (lengshuikeng), which is just a couple stops before 擎天崗. I'd previously noticed a couple different trails that looked interesting, and anticipated that this would be the time that I'd finally do something different.
The bus was crowded and all the seats were taken, so it seemed that it would be a standing ride for me today; though a somewhat older man looked at me and friendly tapped his arm rest in a somewhat joking invitation as a place to sit. He then turned to whom I assume was his wife to repeat this gesture and probably explain how funny he was.
As we exited the city and began the curving climb up the road to 擎天崗, the sunshine quickly turned into clouds; which then transitioned into several bursts of rain. The bursts turned into a steady rain, and I began wondering if I should have pursued something closer in that would have kept me in the sunshine. My apprehensions were mostly due to the shorts, t-shirt, and flip flops that were a part of my clothing arsenal, as well as a lack of any sort of rain deterrent. I knew it wouldn't hurt to keep going and at least see if things would calm down. I also found myself not getting off the bus until reaching the final stop and was once again in familiar territory.
The rain had stopped but the temperature was a bit cooler than I had anticipated. This was coupled with a strong breeze and grey clouds that still held the threat of another downpour. I picked up a poncho from a small store and decided that I would take a trip down memory lane and do the hike from 擎天崗 to 風櫃口 that had been my last hike here the last time around. There's a particular stretch of the hike that transitions from the grass fields and areas of dense foliage into an evergreen forest that hold smells and feelings of home. This had turned into my main motivation for covering similar ground and I was happy to be on my way. Though I began to wonder if I had picked the wrong footwear for the hike...
Sunday, October 6, 2013
我買了兩本書/Moby Dick
Between work and home I spend too much time in front of the computer. Sometimes I don't even know what it is I'm trying to find. I'm just looking for any random thing to keep me occupied, and it's one of those habits that I would like to remedy. Because of this, I have no reservations about being a smart phone hold out, as the last thing I need is another reason to stare at a screen.
As a solution, I decided to brave the rainy weather and go to a book store yesterday to find something good to read. My initial goal was tracking down A Dance with Dragons (update: found it, read it, it was awesome. Now I have to wait who knows how long for the next one), book five in the A Song of Ice and Fire series. I wanted to find it used and so my first stop was Whose Books near the 公館 MRT station. A couple different blogs recommended this store as having the best used English book section in Taipei. Turns out it wasn't big enough to fill half an aisle at Powell's Books.
I did not find my intended purchase.
My next best chance was the much larger book store across the street. As far as finding my initial book choice it was a bust, but they did have a decent selection of HarperCollins classics on the cheap. After perusing my options I decided upon Moby Dick and Fitzgerald's The Beautiful and the Damned, both of which I've never read. For some reason the clerk decided to give me a discount even though I said I wasn't a student (it's near 台灣大學, so students get a discount), and so I walked away with my two new books for $8. Sweet.
I was also hungry and really wanted a burger, so with my purchases in hand I walked off in pursuit of California Grill on 永康街 (a touristy street with abundant restaurants, tea shops, and other shopping opportunities), a little burger place that Andrea and I went to a couple times previously. I thought I knew where it was and after a futile hour or so of trying to track it down, went into a random place that had what looked like Spanish and African cuisine inspired sandwiches. I placed my order and started reading Moby Dick. By the second page I was already hooked, but a passage on page four really struck me with how little things have changed within the human condition since the book was published in 1851:
As a solution, I decided to brave the rainy weather and go to a book store yesterday to find something good to read. My initial goal was tracking down A Dance with Dragons (update: found it, read it, it was awesome. Now I have to wait who knows how long for the next one), book five in the A Song of Ice and Fire series. I wanted to find it used and so my first stop was Whose Books near the 公館 MRT station. A couple different blogs recommended this store as having the best used English book section in Taipei. Turns out it wasn't big enough to fill half an aisle at Powell's Books.
I did not find my intended purchase.
My next best chance was the much larger book store across the street. As far as finding my initial book choice it was a bust, but they did have a decent selection of HarperCollins classics on the cheap. After perusing my options I decided upon Moby Dick and Fitzgerald's The Beautiful and the Damned, both of which I've never read. For some reason the clerk decided to give me a discount even though I said I wasn't a student (it's near 台灣大學, so students get a discount), and so I walked away with my two new books for $8. Sweet.
I was also hungry and really wanted a burger, so with my purchases in hand I walked off in pursuit of California Grill on 永康街 (a touristy street with abundant restaurants, tea shops, and other shopping opportunities), a little burger place that Andrea and I went to a couple times previously. I thought I knew where it was and after a futile hour or so of trying to track it down, went into a random place that had what looked like Spanish and African cuisine inspired sandwiches. I placed my order and started reading Moby Dick. By the second page I was already hooked, but a passage on page four really struck me with how little things have changed within the human condition since the book was published in 1851:
"Who ain't a slave? Tell me that. Well, then. however the old sea-captains may order me about--however they thump and punch me about, I have the satisfaction of knowing that it is all right; that everybody else is one way or other served in much the same way--either in a physical or metaphysical point of view, that is; and so the universal thump is passed round, and all hands should rub each other's shoulder-blades, and be content."
Damn, if that isn't powerful. I made a good choice.
Friday, September 27, 2013
生日快樂/33
I originally wrote this on my birthday. It has been changed. Immediately after finishing it I thought it was the best thing I ever wrote. The following morning told me otherwise. It had some good sentiments so I've decided to keep most of it, but decided to make some changes to make it a little more coherent. Perhaps that ruins the spirit (get it?) of "the sauce" inspired ramblings, but I couldn't bring myself to leave it as it was.
Today marks year number 33. I'm 33 years old and I have no idea what that means whatsoever. My dad was 33 when he married my mom and the result of that was Gina, me, and Raymond. My birthday also coincided with Teacher Appreciation Day in Taipei (or Taiwan, I'm not sure if it's countrywide), so I was also treated to a banquet. While this was by no means a celebration of my birthday, I still received a great happy birthday chorus from my fellow 蓬萊 staff, friends, students, and family, and it was amazing. It's hard not to feel happy that people care.
People care. It's a wonderful thing.
I am fascinated by everything about my life. Also, it's my birthday, and I've been drinking, and that makes everything even more fascinating. Every time I sit and write a blog I end up thinking and thinking and thinking. I don't know how to really express myself, or how to express this experience, or even what it was the last time around. Sometimes I wander around new streets and just stare up and try to imagine the history around them. There's a department store called Carrefour near my school and directly across the street are some of the most run down homes I've ever seen. I look at those and imagine just how much the property that those apartments sit on must be worth (I'm pretty sure it's a lot). I've walked by them so many times, and I can't help but wonder how much longer they'll be there. It's one of those interesting dichotomies where you can see the new and the old in direct confrontation, and it seems the new eventually wins out in the end.
I don't where I fit in that. Do I want to follow the societal and technological trends or be a perpetual confrontation/luddite? Am I making choices that move me forward, or am stuck moving in perpetual circles? Have I isolated myself by living abroad again? I don't know. What I know is that today I turn 33; and all the societal/internal noise feels insignificant because I can close my eyes and return to these places (or just look at pictures on the computer):
What to do when there's so many wonderful things around me, and yet this beauty is drowned out by news headlines
that are perpetually frustrating. It is while reading things like this that I feel my greatest conflict. I'm abroad; I should stop caring. Obamacare, guns, Ted Cruz, Iran, Israel, drones, terrorists, massacres, civilian casualties, Islamic extremists, the religious right, apparently now there's an atheist "church," progressive, conservative. Sensationalist stories about people, places, events and the labels we place on ideologies create an incredible din, it seriously never ends. I feel an increasing desire to distance myself from all of it because every day; every day, it's this: Who's fighting who? Is America going to bomb another country? More people were shot. The U.S. political system appears broken.
Then I see young kids getting into metal, and a teacher creating great opportunities to play and record music for his students, and I feel inspired to keep caring.
Most of all today, I think about the people that matter most to me. I wish I could embrace you all, and tell you all how much I love you. This reminds me of a story about drinking and wanting to tell everybody about my feelings. Years ago, probably around the year 2000, I spent a lot of my time with some Klamath Falls folk (you all know who you are) that had migrated to Portland. I had a habit of drinking too much and wanting to share my feelings. I also had a habit of drinking so much that I would nod off here and there. Anyways, one evening after some merriment Cory was taking Andrew and I back home in his truck. I was blabbing about this and that and then proceeded to finish with: "I just love everybody so much." And then promptly fell asleep. Good times.
These are my thoughts entering year number 33. I have felt a lot of love from amazing people; I am very lucky.
Today marks year number 33. I'm 33 years old and I have no idea what that means whatsoever. My dad was 33 when he married my mom and the result of that was Gina, me, and Raymond. My birthday also coincided with Teacher Appreciation Day in Taipei (or Taiwan, I'm not sure if it's countrywide), so I was also treated to a banquet. While this was by no means a celebration of my birthday, I still received a great happy birthday chorus from my fellow 蓬萊 staff, friends, students, and family, and it was amazing. It's hard not to feel happy that people care.
People care. It's a wonderful thing.
I am fascinated by everything about my life. Also, it's my birthday, and I've been drinking, and that makes everything even more fascinating. Every time I sit and write a blog I end up thinking and thinking and thinking. I don't know how to really express myself, or how to express this experience, or even what it was the last time around. Sometimes I wander around new streets and just stare up and try to imagine the history around them. There's a department store called Carrefour near my school and directly across the street are some of the most run down homes I've ever seen. I look at those and imagine just how much the property that those apartments sit on must be worth (I'm pretty sure it's a lot). I've walked by them so many times, and I can't help but wonder how much longer they'll be there. It's one of those interesting dichotomies where you can see the new and the old in direct confrontation, and it seems the new eventually wins out in the end.
I don't where I fit in that. Do I want to follow the societal and technological trends or be a perpetual confrontation/luddite? Am I making choices that move me forward, or am stuck moving in perpetual circles? Have I isolated myself by living abroad again? I don't know. What I know is that today I turn 33; and all the societal/internal noise feels insignificant because I can close my eyes and return to these places (or just look at pictures on the computer):
Then I see young kids getting into metal, and a teacher creating great opportunities to play and record music for his students, and I feel inspired to keep caring.
Most of all today, I think about the people that matter most to me. I wish I could embrace you all, and tell you all how much I love you. This reminds me of a story about drinking and wanting to tell everybody about my feelings. Years ago, probably around the year 2000, I spent a lot of my time with some Klamath Falls folk (you all know who you are) that had migrated to Portland. I had a habit of drinking too much and wanting to share my feelings. I also had a habit of drinking so much that I would nod off here and there. Anyways, one evening after some merriment Cory was taking Andrew and I back home in his truck. I was blabbing about this and that and then proceeded to finish with: "I just love everybody so much." And then promptly fell asleep. Good times.
These are my thoughts entering year number 33. I have felt a lot of love from amazing people; I am very lucky.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
首兩個星期/找房子
Coming to Taiwan to work in a public school as a licensed teacher definitely has its perks: plane ticket reimbursement, paid vacation, being able to come on a resident visa (and thus not having to do visa runs, which I've heard about from other people and sound stressful). Then again, I come to Taiwan on a resident visa, which means I have 15 days to apply for my ARC card (basically an ID card that lets you come and go from Taiwan and verifies your legit status as a foreign resident; size of a driver's license), and to apply for my ARC card I have to have an apartment with a lease from a landlord. And so the apartment search began...
But before I fully get into that, I need to say that the first five days I was in Taiwan were amazing. Not because I did anything that exciting, but because I was back in Taiwan.
During my lunch break today I walked down to 大稻埕碼頭, a scenic park-like area down by the Danshui River, and while I was there began trying to figure out why I like Taiwan so much. The first year I was in Taiwan, 大稻埕碼頭 was under a lot of construction and wasn't really all that great. The bike path was closed and there were some relatively unattractive sheets of green fencing blocking off the parts of the park that they were working on.
Bringing things back into the present; the work there was done and what I saw this time was an entirely different experience. Everything looked new: new tennis courts, basketball courts, shaded benches with a nice view of the river, a nicely paved bike path, the mountains/hills around Taipei in the near distance, etc. I rested my arms on the railing and looked at the river and thought: "this is nice." Then I started making some inevitable Portland comparisons.
Portland has some nice walkways along the river; Portland is surrounded by nice looking hills/mountains; Portland has better food; better beer; cleaner air; come on now, why did you have to leave, what really makes Taipei or Taiwan that much better? Why are you here?
The answer actually came to me pretty quickly: quiet.
Taipei proper is smaller than Portland by about a quarter, with more than four times as many people. At any given stoplight during rush hour there is an insane build up of cars and scooters; you always have to be on the lookout to make sure some random taxi driver or scooter isn't going to run you over. There are people everywhere. It can be loud. But I'm not talking about external quiet.
The voyage into adulthood has not been without its hiccups. Really, I've always felt a little behind the curve. Late to finish college, aimless at times, restless, bouncing around; what does my place in the world look like? Teaching; yeah that sounds good. I'll be a teacher; or will I; substitute teach; that's ok for now; no, this actually sucks; remember when I really wanted to teach abroad? Oh, that thing I've wanted to do ever since 2003? Yeah, that thing. Now it's 2011, and it happened, you got to teach abroad, this is fucking rad. But maybe the timing wasn't right, and now you're back in Portland. My mind is screaming at me. What are you fucking doing? What the fuck is Inside Track? Is this the direction your life is heading?
So, remember when I said that this about my apartment search and my first two weeks in Taiwan. That's coming. However, a linear thinker I am not.
I mentioned those first five days in Taiwan. They were glorious. I put on headphones, soaked in my surroundings, took pictures, and walked with a subtle, yet perpetual, smile on my face.
And then I realized that I needed to find an apartment. Not applying for your ARC on time results in $75-350 fine, and while I was enjoying my time at the Taipei Fun House, because they are awesome and anyone that comes to visit or that ever goes to Taiwan should stay with them, I did need a place of my own.
So I looked, and looked, and looked...
At first I thought that living in a larger apartment with other people could be good. I would be able to live cheaply, have a big living space, kitchen, and maybe meet some cool people. Checking out one apartment in particular cured me of that idea. I walked in and saw my potential roommates and immediately thought: "living with people would actually suck." It wasn't them, it was me.
I started feeling a little stressed out.
I began looking for my own place. Predominately using the http://www.591.com.tw/ website to browse apartments. And so I browsed, a lot. I probably scanned close to 5000 apartments, clicked on at least 500 of those to learn more, and felt even remotely excited about exactly 1 of those. Yes, I was being picky. My last apartment was big and cheap. That should have been great. Unfortunately, it also had big spiders, big cockroaches, a big uncomfortable couch bench, big rats running around above us, mold, and felt isolated from a lot of the city. This time, I really wanted to picky. I wanted to be fucking stoked about where I was living, but still do that on a budget. I was really beginning to feel like a stuck up and privileged asshole; the antithesis of my ideal self living abroad; or my ideal self in general; who even knows.
This last weekend (8/31-9/1) brought both serious doubts about my return to Taiwan and a fortunate turn of events.
As the stress of the apartment search, and my expectations around it began to build, the first five days of elation sank into a distant memory. My questioning of one thing resulted in a questioning of all things. Here I am, away from friends, family, my wife, trying to build what? What the fuck are you doing? Why are you here? What is the point of this? What are you working towards? Yeah, not so quiet.
And then things worked out. My former co-worker Dan (apparently the golden child of foreign teachers living in Taiwan, no joke) connected me to his former landlord (who loved him and said to me "Dan 比你說中文好"), who had a place that I didn't want because it had no cooking capability. However, because I was Dan's friend, she decided to connect me to her friend, who happened to have a place less than a ten minute walk away from my school. Of course, she also loves Dan.
But she liked me too, and now I have my little apartment box, and I love it. Ten minutes to walk to work. Five minutes to walk to 迪化街, or down to the river. Pretty much in the middle of everything. I definitely feel pretty lucky with how things turned out.
I got my rental contract, applied for my ARC, got my bank account, got some money in the bank, and then...quiet. The noise that began to build had been superficial. It was part of a transition to returning to a new country and trying to get settled. I had begun to feel frustrated about the apartment search, and panic about not getting situated within the required time frame, but I realized that I had never questioned my place here, just become impatient with the process. Now that the transition processes are complete, most of the calm and contentment has returned, and now classes start next week.
Pictures:
Doctor says i need a backiotomy.
But before I fully get into that, I need to say that the first five days I was in Taiwan were amazing. Not because I did anything that exciting, but because I was back in Taiwan.
During my lunch break today I walked down to 大稻埕碼頭, a scenic park-like area down by the Danshui River, and while I was there began trying to figure out why I like Taiwan so much. The first year I was in Taiwan, 大稻埕碼頭 was under a lot of construction and wasn't really all that great. The bike path was closed and there were some relatively unattractive sheets of green fencing blocking off the parts of the park that they were working on.
Bringing things back into the present; the work there was done and what I saw this time was an entirely different experience. Everything looked new: new tennis courts, basketball courts, shaded benches with a nice view of the river, a nicely paved bike path, the mountains/hills around Taipei in the near distance, etc. I rested my arms on the railing and looked at the river and thought: "this is nice." Then I started making some inevitable Portland comparisons.
Portland has some nice walkways along the river; Portland is surrounded by nice looking hills/mountains; Portland has better food; better beer; cleaner air; come on now, why did you have to leave, what really makes Taipei or Taiwan that much better? Why are you here?
The answer actually came to me pretty quickly: quiet.
Taipei proper is smaller than Portland by about a quarter, with more than four times as many people. At any given stoplight during rush hour there is an insane build up of cars and scooters; you always have to be on the lookout to make sure some random taxi driver or scooter isn't going to run you over. There are people everywhere. It can be loud. But I'm not talking about external quiet.
The voyage into adulthood has not been without its hiccups. Really, I've always felt a little behind the curve. Late to finish college, aimless at times, restless, bouncing around; what does my place in the world look like? Teaching; yeah that sounds good. I'll be a teacher; or will I; substitute teach; that's ok for now; no, this actually sucks; remember when I really wanted to teach abroad? Oh, that thing I've wanted to do ever since 2003? Yeah, that thing. Now it's 2011, and it happened, you got to teach abroad, this is fucking rad. But maybe the timing wasn't right, and now you're back in Portland. My mind is screaming at me. What are you fucking doing? What the fuck is Inside Track? Is this the direction your life is heading?
So, remember when I said that this about my apartment search and my first two weeks in Taiwan. That's coming. However, a linear thinker I am not.
I mentioned those first five days in Taiwan. They were glorious. I put on headphones, soaked in my surroundings, took pictures, and walked with a subtle, yet perpetual, smile on my face.
And then I realized that I needed to find an apartment. Not applying for your ARC on time results in $75-350 fine, and while I was enjoying my time at the Taipei Fun House, because they are awesome and anyone that comes to visit or that ever goes to Taiwan should stay with them, I did need a place of my own.
So I looked, and looked, and looked...
At first I thought that living in a larger apartment with other people could be good. I would be able to live cheaply, have a big living space, kitchen, and maybe meet some cool people. Checking out one apartment in particular cured me of that idea. I walked in and saw my potential roommates and immediately thought: "living with people would actually suck." It wasn't them, it was me.
I started feeling a little stressed out.
I began looking for my own place. Predominately using the http://www.591.com.tw/ website to browse apartments. And so I browsed, a lot. I probably scanned close to 5000 apartments, clicked on at least 500 of those to learn more, and felt even remotely excited about exactly 1 of those. Yes, I was being picky. My last apartment was big and cheap. That should have been great. Unfortunately, it also had big spiders, big cockroaches, a big uncomfortable couch bench, big rats running around above us, mold, and felt isolated from a lot of the city. This time, I really wanted to picky. I wanted to be fucking stoked about where I was living, but still do that on a budget. I was really beginning to feel like a stuck up and privileged asshole; the antithesis of my ideal self living abroad; or my ideal self in general; who even knows.
This last weekend (8/31-9/1) brought both serious doubts about my return to Taiwan and a fortunate turn of events.
As the stress of the apartment search, and my expectations around it began to build, the first five days of elation sank into a distant memory. My questioning of one thing resulted in a questioning of all things. Here I am, away from friends, family, my wife, trying to build what? What the fuck are you doing? Why are you here? What is the point of this? What are you working towards? Yeah, not so quiet.
And then things worked out. My former co-worker Dan (apparently the golden child of foreign teachers living in Taiwan, no joke) connected me to his former landlord (who loved him and said to me "Dan 比你說中文好"), who had a place that I didn't want because it had no cooking capability. However, because I was Dan's friend, she decided to connect me to her friend, who happened to have a place less than a ten minute walk away from my school. Of course, she also loves Dan.
But she liked me too, and now I have my little apartment box, and I love it. Ten minutes to walk to work. Five minutes to walk to 迪化街, or down to the river. Pretty much in the middle of everything. I definitely feel pretty lucky with how things turned out.
I got my rental contract, applied for my ARC, got my bank account, got some money in the bank, and then...quiet. The noise that began to build had been superficial. It was part of a transition to returning to a new country and trying to get settled. I had begun to feel frustrated about the apartment search, and panic about not getting situated within the required time frame, but I realized that I had never questioned my place here, just become impatient with the process. Now that the transition processes are complete, most of the calm and contentment has returned, and now classes start next week.
Pictures:
Doctor says i need a backiotomy.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
我在台北走走
Today I went on about a four hour walk around Taipei. I didn't aspire to new destinations, but instead went on a greatest hits tour to some of the places I like the most, including: 建國假日花市, 大安公園, 中正紀念堂. 中正紀念堂 often has great art exhibits, which is why I like going there, but it seemed that it is currently between exhibits. As I was walking, I had some thoughts going on in my head about this and that. To that end...
A week before I left for Taiwan I was able to go on a hiking trip with my two best friends, Kris and Daniel. A few years back we had a good run of four years in a row where we went on these hikes, but then life happens and it's been four years since our last hike, and we were once again embarking on a new adventure in the wilderness area around Glacier Peak. We did the Spider Gap loop and it was the most amazing hike I have ever done (I'd post pictures, but Kris was the only one with a camera, I should get those from him).
One moment in particular was sticking in my mind. On the second night of our trip, Daniel and I did a scramble to the top of a what looked like a pass of sorts where Daniel was sure we'd have a great view. Back up, before we even began the scramble I should clarify that before we started I had some wool socks and flip flops on and was hesitant to even begin climbing up the hill as I would have to at the very least take off my wool socks (I'm embarrassed to admit this, but it's how things went down). Daniel called me on my bullshit, I took off the wool socks, and up the hill we went. We made it through phase one, and were rewarded with a really great view. I was happy with this, but Daniel saw that we could actually keep going up to what looked like the top of the hill. Once again I was hesitant as there was only the merest outline of a trail that looked infrequently used and probably wasn't a real trail. On top of that, it was steep and we both only had flip flops, and the going back down is always the harder part, and holy shit, I am full of excuses. Daniel insisted, and our scramble became more of a goat scramble. It was really just a matter of minutes and were at the top of the hill.
Neither of us had a camera, so there is no picture to document this moment. The sun was setting behind jagged peaks, glacier peak was to the north (I think) and we had a 360 degree view of the Washington Cascades in all their majestic glory. I wish I could describe it better than that, as it was one of the greatest views I have ever experienced. I could really only stare in awe at the scene around me and then I waited for all of the amazing feelings to kick in...and waited...
This is what brings me to what I was actually thinking about while walking around today. As I stared out into the vast expanse of mountains all around me, I felt like I should feel more. Fuck that, I wanted to feel more: Why wasn't I feeling more? What's wrong with me? Doesn't my body sense how amazing this is? Why can't it catch up with what my eyes are seeing? Give me some immediate gratification here; stupid body.
Instead of enjoying the view for what it was, and that I was there with a great friend, I was instead feeling perturbed that my body wasn't kicking in some mad endorphins so that I could get high off nature. I was turning myself in circles trying to absorb the whole view and wanted to really feel something powerful...
I do that a lot. I have a great experience and instead of allowing myself to let it be what it is, I get wrapped up in my head about how I think I should be feeling about something instead of letting things happen naturally. The same thing happened the first time I came to Taiwan to teach abroad. I got here and wanted my mind to be totally blown on an hourly basis. I wanted to write home about all of the amazing things I was feeling and how my life had completely been changed. Instead, I used a blog (this blog) to write sterilized documentations of a handful of events and experiences. I was having a great time living in a new city and country, teaching, learning a new language, and checking out a small part of Taiwan. Shouldn't that be enough? I enjoyed myself the most when I stopped putting pressure on myself about what the experience should be, and just let it be what it was. An experience is the some of it's parts. It wasn't until I was heading home that I could see in greater detail how I grew and changed as a person and just how important the experience was for me.
A year later puts me back in Taiwan, and I have the above life lesson to guide my way. I'm so happy to be back, and I'm letting that be enough.
...it was getting darker so Daniel and I realized that we'd better start our trek back down the hill. I took one last look around and kept my subtle disappointment at not feeling more than what I was feeling to myself; at first that is. We began heading back down and a couple mintues later the floodgates opened and the rush kicked in; delayed gratification seems to be my modus operandi. I immediately thought: Yes! This is what I wanted to feel. What took so damn long? I certainly can't keep this to myself.
Thus, Daniel became the recipient of what had mostly been an inner monologue for the first couple days of our hike, and I proceeded to blab about all my feelings down an approximately 800 foot decline in elevation back to Image Lake.
Moral of the story: Always listen to Daniel. Or something like that. Here are some pictures.
Until next time.
A week before I left for Taiwan I was able to go on a hiking trip with my two best friends, Kris and Daniel. A few years back we had a good run of four years in a row where we went on these hikes, but then life happens and it's been four years since our last hike, and we were once again embarking on a new adventure in the wilderness area around Glacier Peak. We did the Spider Gap loop and it was the most amazing hike I have ever done (I'd post pictures, but Kris was the only one with a camera, I should get those from him).
One moment in particular was sticking in my mind. On the second night of our trip, Daniel and I did a scramble to the top of a what looked like a pass of sorts where Daniel was sure we'd have a great view. Back up, before we even began the scramble I should clarify that before we started I had some wool socks and flip flops on and was hesitant to even begin climbing up the hill as I would have to at the very least take off my wool socks (I'm embarrassed to admit this, but it's how things went down). Daniel called me on my bullshit, I took off the wool socks, and up the hill we went. We made it through phase one, and were rewarded with a really great view. I was happy with this, but Daniel saw that we could actually keep going up to what looked like the top of the hill. Once again I was hesitant as there was only the merest outline of a trail that looked infrequently used and probably wasn't a real trail. On top of that, it was steep and we both only had flip flops, and the going back down is always the harder part, and holy shit, I am full of excuses. Daniel insisted, and our scramble became more of a goat scramble. It was really just a matter of minutes and were at the top of the hill.
Neither of us had a camera, so there is no picture to document this moment. The sun was setting behind jagged peaks, glacier peak was to the north (I think) and we had a 360 degree view of the Washington Cascades in all their majestic glory. I wish I could describe it better than that, as it was one of the greatest views I have ever experienced. I could really only stare in awe at the scene around me and then I waited for all of the amazing feelings to kick in...and waited...
This is what brings me to what I was actually thinking about while walking around today. As I stared out into the vast expanse of mountains all around me, I felt like I should feel more. Fuck that, I wanted to feel more: Why wasn't I feeling more? What's wrong with me? Doesn't my body sense how amazing this is? Why can't it catch up with what my eyes are seeing? Give me some immediate gratification here; stupid body.
Instead of enjoying the view for what it was, and that I was there with a great friend, I was instead feeling perturbed that my body wasn't kicking in some mad endorphins so that I could get high off nature. I was turning myself in circles trying to absorb the whole view and wanted to really feel something powerful...
I do that a lot. I have a great experience and instead of allowing myself to let it be what it is, I get wrapped up in my head about how I think I should be feeling about something instead of letting things happen naturally. The same thing happened the first time I came to Taiwan to teach abroad. I got here and wanted my mind to be totally blown on an hourly basis. I wanted to write home about all of the amazing things I was feeling and how my life had completely been changed. Instead, I used a blog (this blog) to write sterilized documentations of a handful of events and experiences. I was having a great time living in a new city and country, teaching, learning a new language, and checking out a small part of Taiwan. Shouldn't that be enough? I enjoyed myself the most when I stopped putting pressure on myself about what the experience should be, and just let it be what it was. An experience is the some of it's parts. It wasn't until I was heading home that I could see in greater detail how I grew and changed as a person and just how important the experience was for me.
A year later puts me back in Taiwan, and I have the above life lesson to guide my way. I'm so happy to be back, and I'm letting that be enough.
...it was getting darker so Daniel and I realized that we'd better start our trek back down the hill. I took one last look around and kept my subtle disappointment at not feeling more than what I was feeling to myself; at first that is. We began heading back down and a couple mintues later the floodgates opened and the rush kicked in; delayed gratification seems to be my modus operandi. I immediately thought: Yes! This is what I wanted to feel. What took so damn long? I certainly can't keep this to myself.
Thus, Daniel became the recipient of what had mostly been an inner monologue for the first couple days of our hike, and I proceeded to blab about all my feelings down an approximately 800 foot decline in elevation back to Image Lake.
Moral of the story: Always listen to Daniel. Or something like that. Here are some pictures.
Until next time.
新開始
I wrote this in a notepad at about 5am on the bus ride from 桃園國際機場 to 台北車站. I am throwing it on here without any changes.
8/19
Just got on the bus to head to Main Station. There was so much build up both internally and externally to being here that it was hard to know what I would actually feel to be back. I feel great! I usually don't do well with build up. I feel it usually leads to unrealistic expectations and I've always preferred to just experience things as I go.
In regards to experiences, I feel so lucky to have a second opportunity to teach in Taiwan. The first time around was not without its hiccups and missed opportunities. I was so sure the first time around that I would be in Taiwan a second year that I frequently allowed myself to put things off or venture into uncharted (for me) territories on my own.
I'm going to be here for 5 months on my own, so it is up to me to take chances on new experiences and be more willing to make mistakes with my Chinese and be happy with my efforts.
The first time in Taiwan I felt unsure of what I wanted the experience to be, I just knew I wanted to have it. Having a year to reflect on my experience before coming back has given me a sense of appreciation, motivation, and excitement that may not have been there otherwise.
To Andrea I can only give my sincerest thanks for supporting me in the decision to come back. Our time apart is not going to be easy, but I am so grateful to have a wife that encourages me to follow my dreams, and I just love you so much!!
And with that, the blog is resurrected. I still haven't figured out exactly how I want to use it, or what I want it to be, but I imagine I will figure it out as a go along. Disclaimer: I will sometimes use bad language. To quote one of my favorite authors: so it goes.
Cheers.
8/19
Just got on the bus to head to Main Station. There was so much build up both internally and externally to being here that it was hard to know what I would actually feel to be back. I feel great! I usually don't do well with build up. I feel it usually leads to unrealistic expectations and I've always preferred to just experience things as I go.
In regards to experiences, I feel so lucky to have a second opportunity to teach in Taiwan. The first time around was not without its hiccups and missed opportunities. I was so sure the first time around that I would be in Taiwan a second year that I frequently allowed myself to put things off or venture into uncharted (for me) territories on my own.
I'm going to be here for 5 months on my own, so it is up to me to take chances on new experiences and be more willing to make mistakes with my Chinese and be happy with my efforts.
The first time in Taiwan I felt unsure of what I wanted the experience to be, I just knew I wanted to have it. Having a year to reflect on my experience before coming back has given me a sense of appreciation, motivation, and excitement that may not have been there otherwise.
To Andrea I can only give my sincerest thanks for supporting me in the decision to come back. Our time apart is not going to be easy, but I am so grateful to have a wife that encourages me to follow my dreams, and I just love you so much!!
And with that, the blog is resurrected. I still haven't figured out exactly how I want to use it, or what I want it to be, but I imagine I will figure it out as a go along. Disclaimer: I will sometimes use bad language. To quote one of my favorite authors: so it goes.
Cheers.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
On trying to learn Chinese...part 2...
What a difference a few months can make. I was just looking at my original post about learning Chinese and I feel like my relationship with the language has completely changed. To that end, I would like to extend credit to the two people who have made the biggest difference. The first would be my Chinese tutor Patrick (his English name, of course, come to think of it, I don't actually know his Chinese name, dammit), and the other would be my wonderfully ambitious wife. The first wouldn't exist as a part of our lives without the prodding enthusiasm of the other, so to that, I say "謝謝, Andrea!"
Back in November, Andrea had barely made it back from her trip to Chengdu, and pretty much the first point of order was how we needed to find a tutor and really begin working on learning Chinese. By this point, I had already been in Taiwan for three months, and my DIY learning ambitions had yielded little in the way of results. So after a "Tutor Wanted" post on the very useful Tealit website and a couple emails later, we were off to a nearby coffee shop to begin the first real step towards learning Chinese.
The last time I began learning a new language was middle school, and it's funny to think how my goals with learning a language have changed between now and then. When a mere 13 years old, figuring out how to swear in another language brings all sorts of excitement; indeed the joy of learning how to be proficiently profane in a non-English vernacular carried well into my European adventure oh so long ago. These days, however, I'm more concerned with learning key phrases for classroom management and how to ask where the nearest Thai restaurant is.
Though I am happy with the progress I am making, I feel like every new door I open into an understanding of the language drops me off into a hallway with ten more doors that I have yet to explore. It feels like an enormous task, and I am lucky to have Andrea preventing me from slipping into my often procrastinating habits. I have also discovered that I really love writing Chinese characters. I am pretty sure that character writing is going to be the motivating factor in pushing myself to learn Chinese. There have already been several days where I've found myself content to spend a morning writing the same characters over and over again, trying to make sure I get the stroke order correct (yes, each character has a recommended stroke order to maximize writing efficiency), and making it look as close to the book example as possible. I am not an artist in any sense of the word, so practicing character writing is a good exercise in feeling like I can draw something that actually looks interesting. Here is the end result of one of my practice sessions:
Back in November, Andrea had barely made it back from her trip to Chengdu, and pretty much the first point of order was how we needed to find a tutor and really begin working on learning Chinese. By this point, I had already been in Taiwan for three months, and my DIY learning ambitions had yielded little in the way of results. So after a "Tutor Wanted" post on the very useful Tealit website and a couple emails later, we were off to a nearby coffee shop to begin the first real step towards learning Chinese.
The last time I began learning a new language was middle school, and it's funny to think how my goals with learning a language have changed between now and then. When a mere 13 years old, figuring out how to swear in another language brings all sorts of excitement; indeed the joy of learning how to be proficiently profane in a non-English vernacular carried well into my European adventure oh so long ago. These days, however, I'm more concerned with learning key phrases for classroom management and how to ask where the nearest Thai restaurant is.
Though I am happy with the progress I am making, I feel like every new door I open into an understanding of the language drops me off into a hallway with ten more doors that I have yet to explore. It feels like an enormous task, and I am lucky to have Andrea preventing me from slipping into my often procrastinating habits. I have also discovered that I really love writing Chinese characters. I am pretty sure that character writing is going to be the motivating factor in pushing myself to learn Chinese. There have already been several days where I've found myself content to spend a morning writing the same characters over and over again, trying to make sure I get the stroke order correct (yes, each character has a recommended stroke order to maximize writing efficiency), and making it look as close to the book example as possible. I am not an artist in any sense of the word, so practicing character writing is a good exercise in feeling like I can draw something that actually looks interesting. Here is the end result of one of my practice sessions:
Any sort of real comfort listening to and speaking Chinese is still a ways off, but with our current multi-tiered approach to learning, I feel really good about the direction our language acquisition is heading.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
A reflection on learning to teach...
I was just looking through some pictures from a few years back and came across two pictures that I hadn't looked at since I was a student teacher. The biggest reason for this is the fact that I'm no longer a student teacher and haven't had to critically analyze anyone's work in the time I've spent as a substitute teacher. Looking at this also made me realize that maybe I wasn't such a bad student teacher after all. The following two pictures are from the poetry unit I did with my sixth grade students. I'm actually blown away by how well these students captured the poems I assigned to them.
"A Dream Deferred" by Langston Hughes:
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
by Maya Angelou
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
I think my teaching classes also made me paranoid about copyright and fair use laws, but hopefully no one will take offense to my using such amazing poems to showcase just how awesome students can be. As much as I am loving being able to teach abroad, I do have a certain amount of frustration that I am not able to teach in the States and further pursue exploring literature with a class of my own...
"A Dream Deferred" by Langston Hughes:like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
like a heavy load.
I Know Why the Caged Bird Singsby Maya Angelou
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
I think my teaching classes also made me paranoid about copyright and fair use laws, but hopefully no one will take offense to my using such amazing poems to showcase just how awesome students can be. As much as I am loving being able to teach abroad, I do have a certain amount of frustration that I am not able to teach in the States and further pursue exploring literature with a class of my own...
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