the sounds of unsettled dust and damp gossip distract me
my consciousness slips
melting into a consistent drone of familiar beats, comfortable
perhaps too comfortable
the notes mold
shape
grasp the lines
and I struggle to understand
my consciousness
slips
so I fall
into familiar beats
comfortable
nothing
---
Today, on this lazy Saturday of mine I decided to write on paper (and type on a computer) things that I want to remember, things that I like, things that I put aside to get to know my homeland. I sacrificed an incredible amount of self in the process but in the process of shedding things that were important to me, I learned and discovered the things I was capable of. One thing I really want to return to is my passion for music. My passion for music was accidental. I wasn't really allowed to go outside when I was a kid so I sought refuge in my mom's radio. I was laying on her bed one day, and I turned it on, I liked what I heard (rock music) and started to listen religiously. The turning of dials and static between stations was comforting in the unknown world. It was my way to learn what was possible when I couldn't leave the confounds of my home.
The radio is now on my desk. I refuse to throw it away because it was the device where I discovered good music. Epic. It's this device where I learned that beats could ease me. I account this and No Doubt's "Don't Speak" to my so-called music awakening. It's silly but is true. Thank you rolling stone for putting Gwen Stefani on the front cover instead of the other band members, causing the band to almost break up, therefore causing them to make this great video, causing me to fall in love with music. Life.
I love old things. I love anything vintage. I still have my typewriter in a bag in my room. I dress like an old lady. I think that things with history are so much richer than new things. My tv still has antennae that I have to move around to make my tv clear - I love that. My car is my age and I love that. This affinity for old things lead me to discover antique vintage shopping in Vietnam.
Southeast Asia is my mecca for vintage shopping. Seeped in history and blurry memories of my homeland, they make stories come true. I know where to get used shoes and old purses in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. I know where to get old vintage lens from europe behind the bus station in front of Cho Benh Thanh in Saigon. I know where to go because I searched for it and asked around - whenever I saw someone with cool glasses I asked them where they got it. I lived with a Vietnamese-Hungarian for two years, and she too had the same love for old things, she understood and showed me so much.
And I can fucking bargain in Vietnamese.
How much is this?
300,000 vnd
Troi oi! What? That's expensive!! Can you reduce the price?
No, that is the correct price.
But but we're volunteers, we don't even live in Saigon we volunteer in the rural areas sir.
Noo...
Awwww c'mon. If you sell us a cheap price we'll come back another time.
Ok ok...
Yes!!!
My most prized possessions are some records I found in a small shop on this antique street. I was walking by and went ecstatic over a phonograph. I asked them if it worked and they played it for me. Beautiful. Then I asked if they sold the record they played. I only wanted to buy the one they played but he told me they had a whole box - I bought 7 because they're heavy. I would of bought them all if I could. I pretty much got a steal on them for 30,000 vnd ($1.50) each after bargaining hard. Vietnamese records from the 1940's to 1970's - some made in France. They told me it was made from some material and was not plastic - making them much more sturdier. They don't make records like these anymore. I also really love the art on the records, simplistic, two colors at the most. A stark contrast to glitter gaudy misplaced wordy designs of Vietnam these days. Now all I need is a record player to hear the old time sounds come present.
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| Weird, you can see my face in the ipod. For record lovers: I know I stacked them, sorry!! |
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