9.16.2011

Angel Hair


I am a rather busy girl with a rather busy mind. Busier than average, trust me. There is the comparison of guys having “waffle brains” while girls have "spaghetti brains". Some girls are ziti, some are those pasta pinwheel things, while others are linguine. Me? Angel hair.

Now, I am a non-busy girl with still a rather busy mind which means something has to get released somewhere. It used to be that I could just burst out in song and that would be enough to suffice the grumbling beast of creative expression. But now my hands twitch for a sketch pad, an empty page, a pencil, a piano—something to break the dam when words are not enough.

Maybe you’ll get to reap the fruit grown by the flooded river.

9.09.2011

The Notebook

In this day of technology and all that there is to offer with our cell phones and computers, there are still some people who like kickin' it old school... with a pen and paper. There are those people {like me} who are always scattered, a million thoughts a minute, and who crave the feel of ink flowing from their hand, making an indentation, perhaps forever, on something else. Post its, notepads, loose-leaf, an appetite that is never truly satisfied {my apologies to all of my tree-hugging greenitized friends--it's just the way I am}. There are so many reasons why a person like me could be in love with China, but China's love of notebooks is a mutual love that we share. There are so many reasons why notebooks here in China are much more lovable than back in the states.

  • They have Chinglish [English with poorly written grammar, often not making any sense, or providing a wonderful sense of entertainment. Here, English is the 'cool' thing to have as long as it's English... doesn't matter what it says]
  • They are entertaining [Asian culture is obsessed with anything cute, cuddly, and fluffy]
  • They are random [We came across one that said nothing but "giraffe, giraffe, giraffe..." all across the front of it]
  • They are cheap [I'm talkin' fifty-cents. Of course, the more entertaining the Chinglish, the more expensive ;)]


Last night, we raided our team leaders room as he was cleaning out years upon years of "stuff" leftover from other teams {at the end of each year, teams traditionally leave decorations and anything else they can't fit in their suitcase for the upcoming team...wish I had known that coming in!} There were shelves of books (quickly grabbed by Lauren), picture frames (snatched by Laura), and some office supplies, (which the men dove for). There was also a notebook up for grabs. Guess who's it is?

So as I was just sitting on my couch about to stain the perfect off-white blanket some small writing in the corner of the page caught my eye. I flipped through and realized that it was printed on every page of the notebook. I began to read through and realized that 
A.) this is actually really well translated and 
B.) this is quite an inspirational 'poem'. So, I thought I would share...

It's a long long journey
And I don't know if I can believe
When shadows fall and block my eyes
I am lost and know that I must hide
It's a long long journey
Till I find my way home to you
Many days I've spent
Drifting on through empty shores
Wondering what's my purpose
Wondering how to make me strong
I know I will falter I know I will cry
I know you'll be standing by my side
It's a long long journey
And I need to be close to you
Sometimes it feels no one understands
I don't even know why
I do the things I do
When pride builds me up till I can't see my soul
Will you break down these walls and pull me through?
Cause It's a long long journey
Till I feel that I am worth the price
You paid for me on calvary
Beneath those stormy skies
When Satan mocks and friends turn to foes
It feels like everything is out to make me lose control
It's a long long journey
Till I find my way home to you

Now, please note that upon further investigation and simply typing line one into the Master of the Internet, Google informed me that these are in fact lyrics to a song called "Journey" by Angela Zhang [who is totes Chinese]. Although there was a momentary sigh of disappointment in realizing that these were in fact copied words {and not solely written for the purpose of this notebook} I realized that they were words, nonetheless, that were meant to tell a story, meant to be shared. In China.



9.04.2011

9.02.2011

Open Sea


A single speck
of your eye in mine.
An obscure glimmer.
Reason unknown.


I’m curious.
Mystified, mesmerized.
I get lost in your eyes,
drawn to pools of unknown.

And when I return a shard is lodged in me.
Driftwood on an open sea.
Maybe, just maybe
a sliver of me is in you, too.

Eyes are a window to the soul,
so they say.
Your speck of soul, stead fast and secure,
a part of my identity.
Entwined, perhaps forever,

and I am ever so thankful.