Dear friends,
This blog has been an important part of my life--private and public, however lamely vain that latter part may sound--since its inception in January of 2007.
It's been a tool for me to chronicle for myself, and whoever else cared to witness*, the development of a new and amazing episode in my life.
It's been awesome! Tango has not ended for me (on the contrary), but this body of scribbles has become what it will be.
I've been blogging for well over a decade now and have pulled the plug on all four blogs when it's Time (when I kind of molt and there's no longer an emotional impetus for me to write in that context, or when I'm not anonymous anymore and that starts to encroach on my freedom to say what I want). So... *a few bars of Taps.*
What a joy to start over!
I'm going back to blogging about my life, which now involves stuff that often eclipse Tango (GASP! :) This I may keep unsigned. But another blog will go online soon for a personal research project on my grandfather, who had a large impact on Korean Literature and how it's taught today. That will probably have my name on it.
Cheers! And happy dancing.
*probably TOTALLY grammatically incorrect, but I ain't no English major, 'K? Even if I do the SNOOT thing sometimes.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
Defining Moment
In moments of crisis, things in the head (and heart, too) are often thrown about and given to an initially private bouleversement. Eventually they may lead to some substantive, non-minor, highly visible change in that person, but this is not guaranteed.
This past weekend, I went to Portland to attend The Thing. And I had my fair share of internal tumbling. But then again: I've been falling for months.
On Saturday night I was sitting near the window cutouts at Tango Berretin, peering through at the dancers in the obscurity of the roomlet's corners. I was, in what has become much too familiar a past-time, cradling my terrified, long-ailing foot and bitter as all hell that it was keeping me from enjoying a robust evening open to novelty, risk, and serendipity.
Suddenly, I found myself inside of a conversation with three people... Alex, some third party, and this woman from New York with an incandescent name: Ilaria. We were speaking about something... the weekend that Alex's wisdom teeth were pulled out, how the body and mind react so globally to even tiny blips of localized pain or discomfort, how we consist of frequencies and moving things, the beauty of the embrace, the shortness of youth walking home after a milonga, the loneliness of funerals, the varying amplitudes of happiness.
One thing led to another and then of course we were talking about tango. We are always talking about the Tango.
And something just... clicked.
I thought: what am I doing? Why am I so afraid? (I can't dance with this leader because my foot will break.) Angry? (Why is my body giving up on me? It's so UNFAIR.) Bitter? (If my foot were healthy I'd be somewhere happier by now.) Sad? (This sucks BUTT.)
I thought about those amplitudes of happiness. I thought about what Ilaria was saying, speaking to me ABOUT me without realizing it, about how people can sense your darkness and negative heat, how people instinctively seek out high amplitudes to maximize the positive curve of their own happiness.
Tentatively, and at first, with a superficial intrepidity I didn't feel, I forced myself to be unafraid. I stretched. I subjected myself to an impromptu acupressure session. I breathed out. I took rests but got up again. Sometimes, I wore sneakers.
I can't verbalize exactly what the internal change in me was, why it happened right then, how such a huge, inexplicable, and personal revelation got triggered by such an ostensibly small thing as a few words from a stranger about "positivity."
But I was dancing. I was open and being embraced and NOT THINKING and all I can say is that it was very, very good.
http://photobywesley.com
This past weekend, I went to Portland to attend The Thing. And I had my fair share of internal tumbling. But then again: I've been falling for months.
On Saturday night I was sitting near the window cutouts at Tango Berretin, peering through at the dancers in the obscurity of the roomlet's corners. I was, in what has become much too familiar a past-time, cradling my terrified, long-ailing foot and bitter as all hell that it was keeping me from enjoying a robust evening open to novelty, risk, and serendipity.
Suddenly, I found myself inside of a conversation with three people... Alex, some third party, and this woman from New York with an incandescent name: Ilaria. We were speaking about something... the weekend that Alex's wisdom teeth were pulled out, how the body and mind react so globally to even tiny blips of localized pain or discomfort, how we consist of frequencies and moving things, the beauty of the embrace, the shortness of youth walking home after a milonga, the loneliness of funerals, the varying amplitudes of happiness.
One thing led to another and then of course we were talking about tango. We are always talking about the Tango.
And something just... clicked.
I thought: what am I doing? Why am I so afraid? (I can't dance with this leader because my foot will break.) Angry? (Why is my body giving up on me? It's so UNFAIR.) Bitter? (If my foot were healthy I'd be somewhere happier by now.) Sad? (This sucks BUTT.)
I thought about those amplitudes of happiness. I thought about what Ilaria was saying, speaking to me ABOUT me without realizing it, about how people can sense your darkness and negative heat, how people instinctively seek out high amplitudes to maximize the positive curve of their own happiness.
Tentatively, and at first, with a superficial intrepidity I didn't feel, I forced myself to be unafraid. I stretched. I subjected myself to an impromptu acupressure session. I breathed out. I took rests but got up again. Sometimes, I wore sneakers.
I can't verbalize exactly what the internal change in me was, why it happened right then, how such a huge, inexplicable, and personal revelation got triggered by such an ostensibly small thing as a few words from a stranger about "positivity."
But I was dancing. I was open and being embraced and NOT THINKING and all I can say is that it was very, very good.
http://photobywesley.com
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Enfin. Plateau.Next
Finally, I got to step up to my next plateau. It's been a while (I think the last time I felt that my dance changed substantially enough to allow me to say this was back in last August).
Trio Garufa played at Ashkenaz, and despite the multiple events that were happening tonight, a large crowd showed up, including the Free-styling Tree Guy.
Every single tanda tonight was magical, and I felt for the first in a long time that I have made concrete, non-trivial progress in my dance (moving from the hips, better weight distribution in the metatarsals, improved disassociation, smoother turns and a straighter linear walk). I even danced with an out-of-towner (granted, a pretty awesome dancer to begin with) and it worked like a dream! I only had to take a half-hour break in the middle of the three-hour evening! I HAD FUN!
It reminds me of the olden days, when my feet were healthy enough to stay on the floor for hours on end, sometimes almost literally from the beginning to the terminus of an entire milonga.
I'm exhilarated, even though I had to make do with my CIF 2.75 inchers (I don't care, I don't care).
I'm just. Happy. And grateful.
Trio Garufa played at Ashkenaz, and despite the multiple events that were happening tonight, a large crowd showed up, including the Free-styling Tree Guy.
Every single tanda tonight was magical, and I felt for the first in a long time that I have made concrete, non-trivial progress in my dance (moving from the hips, better weight distribution in the metatarsals, improved disassociation, smoother turns and a straighter linear walk). I even danced with an out-of-towner (granted, a pretty awesome dancer to begin with) and it worked like a dream! I only had to take a half-hour break in the middle of the three-hour evening! I HAD FUN!
It reminds me of the olden days, when my feet were healthy enough to stay on the floor for hours on end, sometimes almost literally from the beginning to the terminus of an entire milonga.
I'm exhilarated, even though I had to make do with my CIF 2.75 inchers (I don't care, I don't care).
I'm just. Happy. And grateful.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Canning Sucks Butt
Canning is a f*cking QUILOMBO. You can't get a table, it's full of the "sex in the vertical position" ilk, lanes no longer work, the exhibitions suck (but at least there are some)...
We were all stressed out by the onda and danced very little. It was not fun.
Let us speak of it no more.
Beforehand: we attended a class by the Disparis (difficult but fun), ran into a bunch of Koreans, finally met Hung-Yut Chen (unfortunately his wife was ill so they didn't get to hang out with all of us afterward; a shame since I had so many questions for him about the Tango phenomenon in Korea), and took advantage of being in Baires to eat:
Indian (authentic! awesome! elegant!) at Tandoor - Laprida 1293 (esq. Charcas) / Barrio Norte, Buenos Aires /
Teléfono/Reservas: 4821-3676
Japanese (surprisingly decent for Baires; apparently sushi is la moda right now here) at some place in Palermo, name starts with an "I" but can't remember at the moment
and...KOREAN!!! at this place called Bi Won in Recoleta. I was shocked at the level of authenticity and enjoyed the experience immensely. Even better: I watched Obama taking the oath during the meal on a giant tv screen with the owner and TS :) - Junín 548 / Teléfono: 4372 1146 (closes for siesta at 2:30 P.M. and is NOT open late for dinner, I think they close like around 11 PM or midnight).
OK, I need to take a cab to the airport now.
Tomorrow I'll be in SF!!!
We were all stressed out by the onda and danced very little. It was not fun.
Let us speak of it no more.
Beforehand: we attended a class by the Disparis (difficult but fun), ran into a bunch of Koreans, finally met Hung-Yut Chen (unfortunately his wife was ill so they didn't get to hang out with all of us afterward; a shame since I had so many questions for him about the Tango phenomenon in Korea), and took advantage of being in Baires to eat:
Indian (authentic! awesome! elegant!) at Tandoor - Laprida 1293 (esq. Charcas) / Barrio Norte, Buenos Aires /
Teléfono/Reservas: 4821-3676
Japanese (surprisingly decent for Baires; apparently sushi is la moda right now here) at some place in Palermo, name starts with an "I" but can't remember at the moment
and...KOREAN!!! at this place called Bi Won in Recoleta. I was shocked at the level of authenticity and enjoyed the experience immensely. Even better: I watched Obama taking the oath during the meal on a giant tv screen with the owner and TS :) - Junín 548 / Teléfono: 4372 1146 (closes for siesta at 2:30 P.M. and is NOT open late for dinner, I think they close like around 11 PM or midnight).
OK, I need to take a cab to the airport now.
Tomorrow I'll be in SF!!!
Monday, January 19, 2009
It's a Wrap! The Top 10
1. I learned to play the bombo!! I can kind of accompany zambas and chacareras... this is in Bahia:
2. I played music and got drunk in a yellow bus where an awesome bombista lives, with his wife and little girl. Never mix fernet with wine.
3. I had a hard time with all the staring in Monte Hermoso; no one's ever seen an Asian before, or something. TS says I should enjoy what he calls the "Hollywood Star Treatment." Maybe I'll miss it, who knows. At this point though I am really annoyed. (I am proud to say that I only lost my temper 3 times in as many weeks.)
4. I've begun to dream almost exclusively in Castellano.
5. I had an awesome time with TS's parents. It was a very emotional goodbye at the bus terminal where we took a colectivo to Buenos Aires last night.
6. TS and I slept in houses that he grew up in since he was a baby. It was hilarious to sleep in bunk beds with him in Monte, which he'd shared with his grandparents and sister (we ended up pushing them together to make a psuedo 2-level double and slept in the bottom level).
7. Arcor makes the best pan dulce with melty chocolate chips in it.
8. I didn't really get much of a tan due to the variable weather in Monte. But at least I got to wear flip flops a lot.
9. I changed my flight to leave Argentina a day early. $220 was a small price tag to return to my manicurist, aesthetician, stairmaster, and international cuisine of high caliber. I love it here but I need to go home.
10. I fell in love with TS again, in a different way. The trip was nowhere near dispute-free, but we dealt with so many new things: playing music together (however feeble my role), dealing with small illnesses, family, childhood friends, language and culture, being together 24/7.
On the way back to Buenos Aires from Bahia on the colectivo, we held hands while we fell asleep.
Tonight: a class with the Disparis, dinner with some tangueros, and then Canning!
See you all soon in SF.
2. I played music and got drunk in a yellow bus where an awesome bombista lives, with his wife and little girl. Never mix fernet with wine.
3. I had a hard time with all the staring in Monte Hermoso; no one's ever seen an Asian before, or something. TS says I should enjoy what he calls the "Hollywood Star Treatment." Maybe I'll miss it, who knows. At this point though I am really annoyed. (I am proud to say that I only lost my temper 3 times in as many weeks.)
4. I've begun to dream almost exclusively in Castellano.
5. I had an awesome time with TS's parents. It was a very emotional goodbye at the bus terminal where we took a colectivo to Buenos Aires last night.
6. TS and I slept in houses that he grew up in since he was a baby. It was hilarious to sleep in bunk beds with him in Monte, which he'd shared with his grandparents and sister (we ended up pushing them together to make a psuedo 2-level double and slept in the bottom level).
7. Arcor makes the best pan dulce with melty chocolate chips in it.
8. I didn't really get much of a tan due to the variable weather in Monte. But at least I got to wear flip flops a lot.
9. I changed my flight to leave Argentina a day early. $220 was a small price tag to return to my manicurist, aesthetician, stairmaster, and international cuisine of high caliber. I love it here but I need to go home.
10. I fell in love with TS again, in a different way. The trip was nowhere near dispute-free, but we dealt with so many new things: playing music together (however feeble my role), dealing with small illnesses, family, childhood friends, language and culture, being together 24/7.
On the way back to Buenos Aires from Bahia on the colectivo, we held hands while we fell asleep.
Tonight: a class with the Disparis, dinner with some tangueros, and then Canning!
See you all soon in SF.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Some Kimchee, Por Favor?
I am here:
View Larger Map
It's not Hawaii but it's hot and there's a beach :) I've been here (and here) spending time with TS and his fam since the end of December, and I'll be returning to San Francisco late next week.
The only thing I really miss from home is the food. (Oh, and my gym routine.) I brought a small bottle of Sriracha and it's saved my LIFE. I just ran out yesterday but I leave in a handful of days so I'll subsist on this substandard chili dulce I found at Walmart (they have one in Bahia, un/fortunately). I was there last week, all crazy-eyed and tic-y from spice-withdrawl.
TS says that when I happened upon some MSG-laden Sapporo Ichiban Ramen packs on a dismally small island of International goods there, I just lit up. I wouldn't touch the stuff in SF, but must have looked like a child of a health nut who happened upon a hidden stash of candy in the closet.
I ate three packs promptly after we got back and felt happy/sick/sorry for myself.
There is one good thing to eat here, and that is fried eggs (over easy) on pizza. Truly an ingenious invention.
:(
What a devolution of the palate.
View Larger Map
It's not Hawaii but it's hot and there's a beach :) I've been here (and here) spending time with TS and his fam since the end of December, and I'll be returning to San Francisco late next week.
The only thing I really miss from home is the food. (Oh, and my gym routine.) I brought a small bottle of Sriracha and it's saved my LIFE. I just ran out yesterday but I leave in a handful of days so I'll subsist on this substandard chili dulce I found at Walmart (they have one in Bahia, un/fortunately). I was there last week, all crazy-eyed and tic-y from spice-withdrawl.
TS says that when I happened upon some MSG-laden Sapporo Ichiban Ramen packs on a dismally small island of International goods there, I just lit up. I wouldn't touch the stuff in SF, but must have looked like a child of a health nut who happened upon a hidden stash of candy in the closet.
I ate three packs promptly after we got back and felt happy/sick/sorry for myself.
There is one good thing to eat here, and that is fried eggs (over easy) on pizza. Truly an ingenious invention.
:(
What a devolution of the palate.
Monday, December 29, 2008
I'm Still Here :)
Long silences. Apologies.
I'm sitting here at the Dallas Fort Worth International Airport, the nexus for all things fried.
The people are friendly, if a bit large-bottomed.
Life? Beautiful, if insanely hectic. I'm on my way to Argentina, where I'll be staying mostly in Bahia Blanca and Monte Hermoso with TS and his family until the end of January. We are going to be focussing mainly on getting a tan, so this will not be a tango-intensive vacation.
It's just as well: I've pulled back from tango a bit after the scare with my foot. I'm sure you couldn't tell, judging from the number of posts since god knows when. My skills on the dance floor have declined, with a capital D. That sucks. I dance probably about two to three times a week, if that, anymore. And when I am at a milonga, I dance perhaps 25% the amount that I used to. Reasons being:
1. I just joined a start up back in November, which was unexpected (I wasn't looking to leave the freelancing biz but the opportunity was too tempting). It means that I no longer really have a life, but at least it's fun.
2. I have to make sure I don't get injured again.
3. TS left a number of weeks back to spend Christmas with his family so I've not had someone exhorting me to go with him every night; it's easy get caught up with work or some non-tango thing when your tango baby is not around.
I do feel sad about the backsliding. I feel that I was really on my way somewhere when the injury occurred; my dance was changing, I was having so much fun, starting to embellish, work seriously on posture, etc.
The silver lining is that it's much more difficult to take the dance for granted anymore, and I've actually improved in some respects.
OK. Gotta board that flight. Wish me good voyage!
This has been a drive-by entry.
I'm sitting here at the Dallas Fort Worth International Airport, the nexus for all things fried.
The people are friendly, if a bit large-bottomed.
Life? Beautiful, if insanely hectic. I'm on my way to Argentina, where I'll be staying mostly in Bahia Blanca and Monte Hermoso with TS and his family until the end of January. We are going to be focussing mainly on getting a tan, so this will not be a tango-intensive vacation.
It's just as well: I've pulled back from tango a bit after the scare with my foot. I'm sure you couldn't tell, judging from the number of posts since god knows when. My skills on the dance floor have declined, with a capital D. That sucks. I dance probably about two to three times a week, if that, anymore. And when I am at a milonga, I dance perhaps 25% the amount that I used to. Reasons being:
1. I just joined a start up back in November, which was unexpected (I wasn't looking to leave the freelancing biz but the opportunity was too tempting). It means that I no longer really have a life, but at least it's fun.
2. I have to make sure I don't get injured again.
3. TS left a number of weeks back to spend Christmas with his family so I've not had someone exhorting me to go with him every night; it's easy get caught up with work or some non-tango thing when your tango baby is not around.
I do feel sad about the backsliding. I feel that I was really on my way somewhere when the injury occurred; my dance was changing, I was having so much fun, starting to embellish, work seriously on posture, etc.
The silver lining is that it's much more difficult to take the dance for granted anymore, and I've actually improved in some respects.
OK. Gotta board that flight. Wish me good voyage!
This has been a drive-by entry.
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