lets write

I took this picture from the internet because I like the guys hair and I like the girl dancing.

My dad tells me I should write every day. Just write a little something. Get your words out. Even if you don't know what to write about, just write. I want to. Words are always flowing within me, my fingers are always itching, my brain is always collecting ideas, and my soul just wants me to get out everything thats inside. But I let myself remain trapped and crippled, thinking too much, feeling overwhelmed about what to say and about how scary the internet is and that it never deletes and how I already have a million journals that are full of my words that don't make sense. My brain jumps from ideas and spaces and images, and my body is forced to work in an office and calculate numbers and look up boring sentences that do not inspire or excite me.

The last three months I have worked two jobs, usually leaving early in the morning and coming home after 11 or 12 at night. Everything always has a little good and a little bad but I'd say the experience dipped more in the bad direction this time around. It's scary when you think the thing you loved or the goal you have or the job you wanted is not at all what it seems and suddenly your brain and life feel like they are spinning in circles because you aren't sure which direction to go. I would not consider myself a particularly goal oriented person at all, I have always liked doing what I like doing and do not enter into many things because of a certain end goal. But of course like everyone, I am drawn to certain things and repelled by others and there are steps we have to take in life sometimes to get somewhere (wherever that might be). But when you don't know what that somewhere is or even what steps to take, it becomes a little confusing.

I was preparing for a conference of international leaders and representatives which I thought would be interesting but turned out to be really boring and tedious and overwhelming. I found that my favorite activity of the day was drawing a new sketch or cartoon on the white board we used to countdown until the start of the conference. They started just writing numbers like "78" and I thought that was boring, so my mischievous coworker and I drew a crazy underwater scene with a floating numbers in a boat. It was cute and fun and made everyone in the office smile, so every day before work ended I tried to draw something new. It was the only redeeming part of my day that I could think of a new idea that would bring a smile to other people's faces.

Now I am interested in writing a book about my Nana's life. She inspires me and her life inspires me and I hope that I can be like her someday. I want to spend more time drawing and making music and writing and less time punching a keyboard to make things that I don't care about come out the other end.

It is raining today. I walked around Seoul with my friend Sonia who I think was sent to me from heaven because she went to USC and speaks Korean and we are work neighbors and shes from California and I love talking to her. We forgot out umbrellas but we got some really good meat and then had coffee and a capuccino tart. We walked passed a new museum that is almost finished where I really want to be a docent. Can non-seniors be docents? I used to want to be an art curator. What happens to our dreams? Do we stop believing in ourselves or do they change? I was making little books and drawing since I was a small girl. I was singing and playing music before I even had hair. I was bald for a long time as a child.

This is my first attempt to try to write more. To let the things spinning in my head have a little freedom, even if they don't make much sense.