Just 5 days left - help me as much as I help you waste time with my blog!

Hi Everyone. I know you guys love reading why I love Vietnam but here's a serious one. I love Vietnam because the girls and young women here are brilliant and resilient. I see myself in them. Unfortunately for girls born in the rural border regions can be vulnerable to sexual trafficking. Most of the girls I meet are under 18, some even 13. If you ever stare into the eyes of a child whose hope for the world has been beat out of them you wouldn't be able to look away. It's disheartening.

Do something. Lovely friends please take the same amount of time you take to browse facebook albums to:

1) Create a simple profile here, http://www.changemakers.com/

2) Until July 19 - Discuss, share and like ADAPT into the semi-finals. This means, to like, share on your social networks, and post a comment or question about ADAPT, I or other staff will answer them =). We'll engage with you.


We've got just 5 days left.


If there are at least 15 people who sign up and help me...let me know! (email me: kimhdam@gmail.com). I'll enter you in a RAFFLE to win a beautifully designed photo book of my current art workshop project with trafficking returnees, cây by Donna Choi.

Let your roomies, friends and family know. <3

hugs hugs and more hugs.

Kim

Reason #2 + The process of canh bí đỏ (pumpkin broth soup)

Anytime, anywhere.Why I love Vietnam!
Reason #2

Anytime, anywhere you can find people singing with no shame in the form of Karaoke. (As the Vietnamese say: KA RA OKAY!) You would think that the prevalence of "saving face" would serve as a deterrent to really bad singing but no, it does not. I've actually grown quite fond of it. The way that a mother grows fond of her baby's never ending crying and tantrums. No special event is needed. Unexpected and unpredictable, Karaoke surfaces in the morning, on a Wednesday late afternoon, and even when there's a wild party at 7:15 pm at night.

I'm trying really hard to share my abroad experiences through stories, photos and video clips. Hopefully I can post everyday. Enjoy!

---
The process of canh bí đỏ (pumpkin broth soup)

I fucking love soup. My friend Linh says I make good soup. Here, I've learned that soup is not easy to make. It requires patience, knowing the right amount to put in without measuring cups and the correct order of putting things in. In America, I never quite understood how to make soup. Unfortunately my mom's attempts of teaching me were not exactly conducive to soup making.

While mom is cooking soup
Come here and learn how to do something.
How do you know how much to put in?
I just know.
Yeah but how do you know? Like one teaspoon or what? I don't get it.
You just know.
Okay...
I attempt to "help"
Stop that, oh just get out the kitchen.
But...
You're going to burn the house down.

That was the extent of my soup lessons. I mean teaching soup lessons to a kid is like reading Moby Dick to a toddler. We just got no patience.

However, after a few attempts and learning from fabulous cooks, I now know how to cook soup.

Step 1: REALLY IMPORTANT. Turn on stove to boil water.

Step 2: Get tools ready. That is a certain kind of pumpkin - I don't know it's name. Don't use the pumpkin that you find on Halloween. You will not be happy.

Step 3: Use tools and peel that shit. I hate this part. (Hey Kim how did you take that picture if you live by yourself? Tuck it into my chin.)

Step 4: Scoop mushy insides out. (Martha Steward would be proud of my instructions).

Step 5: Try to cut into evenly divided pieces.

Secret Step 6: Heat up the garlic first to let it sizzle and smell good. My mom may beg to differ, since this actually burns the garlic but I enjoy burnt things.

Secret Step 7: Cook the pumpkin! Yes! You don't throw it in the soup, doing so will cause the pumpkin to disintegrate into stringy pieces. Stir frying it first keeps it together.

Step 8: Viola.

Step 9: Water should be boiling by now.

Secret step 10: Dried shrimp. This is like Vietnam's quick fix, sort of like Prego spaghetti sauce. Instead of stewing over the stove waiting for your beef to cook, just throw these suckers in and your soup is savory and fishy smelling.

Step 11: Throw everything in. Marinate with salt, sugar, and stock according to your tastes.

Step 12: YAY! Add cilantro, green onion, and pepper. Makes it look prettier and taste better!

I almost fell asleep writing this blog post. I thought for some reason soup would be mildly entertaining. I suppose I can tell you why I really like this soup. I live with this amazing staff member named Thao whose an artist and lived in Hungary for 15 years whose story telling skills have people lying on the floor laughing or captivated in still silence. She cooks me this soup. When she's out on field visits, I attempt to cook the things that she cooks but can never quite match up in wholesome goodness. Also a trafficking returnee showed me some of the "secrets" to this soup such as stir frying the pumpkin before I throw it in the water. I use the word "secrets" but it's probably my dumb ass not knowing very basic Vietnamese soup 101.

Now that I am about to leave Vietnam, I not only have awesome soup recipe's up my sleeve, but also have ever lasting memories that come with it. And that's why I fucking love soup.

Why I love Vietnam: anytime, anywhere.

Reason #1
Anytime, anywhere I find aunts feeding me or delivering food to me. Yesterday one aunt delivered a durian to my doorstep. This morning my other aunt drove over homemade bamboo soup. Nothing beats the warmth of Vietnamese people. Vietnamese people don't say "I love you" but they definitely show it through hot soups and stinky fruits.

In my last days here I'm going to start a series called "Why I love Vietnam: anytime, anywhere." It's a count down simply put of why I love Vietnam. There are many things that permeate the culture and you can basically find them at anytime, anywhere in Vietnam. Through this I hope to capture the small nuances of my day and the things I now take for granted having lived here for nearly 2 years.


---

The process of  Sầu riêng (Durian)

Non-Asian people think this fruit smells. Actually Asian people also think it smells but at least we don't use it as an ingredient on Fear Factor. Psh. Noobs.

This is my first attempt at opening a durian all by myself. My aunt dropped it by my house yesterday, I was very excited and a tad bit overwhelmed at the prospects of opening this extremely spikey fruit.

Step 1: Stare at fruit.

Step 2: Poke at fruit to see really how sharp it is. It's sharp.

Step 3: Get REALLY BIG KNIFE!

Step 4: Find a strong person (in this case myself). Rip open with bare hands. RAWWWWR!

Step 5: Bask in success.

Step 6: Bon appetite. This delicacy beats caviar any day suckas.

Note: Ok, so for the observant, yes there was already slices in the durian when I first got it. Yes, that means it was actually really easy to open. No, I didn't use the really big knife at all actually. No, you still need to be really strong to open it. Yes I am one of the best damn durian openers ever. Thank you.

Welcome to the wonderful world of Kim the randomiest place on earth.

Of course this goes to say that all human beings and living creatures are complex.

I love that word. Complex.

I mean the word itself looks complex. There's an x in it and usually words with x's arouse notions of complexity and confusion.

Xenophobia

Xena

Xylophone

Ex-boyfriend

Experience

X-men

X-generation

XXX

You know the works. Anyways, I just finished my GRE's which means that I will resume my normal state of randomosity twinkled with a bit of crazy happy fun.

I think IMPACTFUL is a word but it isn't. I really wish it was. I think I'm mixing it up with another word but have yet to find that original word. For now, IMPACTFUL will erroneously suffice. It has also dawned on me that I have less than 2 months left before I return to the suburbs and it's probably going to go something like this:

@ Grocery store:

Wandering around the grocery store I will become saddened by the impressive array and replete nature of processed foods that I will just squat in the middle of the aisle hoping that fresh green vegetables, lively jumping fish and red blood unsanitary meat covered in flies will appear. 

Announcement over the p.a. "Clean up on aisle three. There is a despondent asian girl crying in front of the spam" 

@ Starbucks:

Can I have some sweet milk with my coffee? 

What? 2% Soymilk with no sugar?

No, You know condense milk.

What? No we don't have that.

"Um boss there's this asian girl who just started squatting and crying and won't leave."

@ the Mall:

Hi how much is this?

Let me check the price for you. Ok $10.99

How about $9.99?

What? No ma'am it's $10.99

Oh c'mon I just volunteered in Vietnam for two years and I'm poor just give me a dollar off $9.99. 

Ma'am we don't bargain here.

"Ma'am please get up, you're making a scene. Please."

@ a restaurant

What is this TIP?

Kim, you gotta give 20% TIP.

What? TIP? I can tip the table at a 20 degree angle by putting some napkins under it but that's gonna be a mess.

Kim.

What?

...

"Kim, please get off the floor. I got the tip don't worry about it."

@ 10 am calling a friend on Tuesday

Hey, wanna grab some food and drinks?

What? Kim I'm in the middle of work I'm not even suppose to be on the phone.

Yeah don't worry about it, c'mon let's grab a smoothie.

I can't.

Why? I don't get it.

BECAUSE I HAVE TO WORK.

And? I have no idea what you are saying right now, you still drink and eat food don't you?

No, I can't. Here let me look at my calendar I have some time on Saturday between 2 to 3 pm does that work for you?

...

Kim? You there?

...

Kim stop crying...Ok ok, how about 2 to 3:30 pm. 

Yup, and the list goes on. Be ready folks for the crying and squatting Kim. It will probably happen at regular intervals seeing that American life is pretty mundane,  banal and predictable. 

---

A friend told me that one of my difficult challenges will probably be relaying my experience and what I've learned to people back home. I believe this is the task of life in general as everyone has a difficult time relaying their experience and what they've learned from other people. Some of my friends have written to me telling me that their life is usual and they have nothing really to update. I believe they are wrong. Stories are how you tell them. I love to hear about little things in life, the conversation with the 10 year old, the past stories of youth, the day of doing nothing but learning something new on tv, working hard for something and accomplishing it. These small things I care about. Things that are gaudy and flashy rarely impress me. What impresses me is people who are people. People who are just themselves around me. People who work hard. People who are nice. People who care for their loved ones. People who have difficult times at home. People who share. People who laugh and make me laugh. People who find beauty in everything. People who are creative naturally and in their own way. This is what that impresses me. This to me is what is worth living for.

Many people will try to live through their materials. Materials are finite and something you can have and touch and have someone be envious of you. But there is no strength in living through your materials because in the end of the day we all do the same things. That is eat, sleep, drink, and feel. People do each one to varying degrees. Some people hide their feelings, some people eat fancy meals, some people eat to survive. I have a hard time relaying my experiences and stories to people. I have a hard time really being outgoing and connecting to people because sometimes my shyness takes over me. Actually my shyness consistently takes over and I get nervous and my insecurities turn on. My voice is really little. Some people can't hear me sometimes, or most people. It actually hurts my throat to talk too loud. I have really nice friends who are conscious of this and always ask me to speak or to hear my opinions. I appreciate that. 

As for now, I am going to try to figure out ways to express myself. To create. It's really hard for me sometimes because this sense of laziness sort of overcomes me or perhaps its insecurities and this lostness I feel when I am forcing myself to do art.  I'd rather be doing nothing than something. Ok, art based workshop #5 today. I'm going to teach the girls how to story tell and mural today. I have less than two hours to put it together now.

Often times when I am on a caffeine high I wonder what drugs would do for my writing.

However, seeing that I'm rather naive, paranoid about health dangers, scared in general of dying and of taking risks, I will probably never know.

I once hallucinated after taking nyquil when I was 12, that was scary. Try making a planet in order to save a friend. You would think it's scary too.

Lately anything MSG or caffeine or overly sugar related -  I can feel it in my cheeks. It feels a bit heavy.

But caffeine, especially Vietnamese coffee does something very good for my mind. About an hour into drinking the coffee, things seem very clear and happy lasting approximately 2.5 hours. Then afterwards, I am tired and my hands start trembling (if I haven't had breakfast).

She reached over to get the pepper and for a short second he thought about molecules. Not because her skin was soft and smooth despite her disgust of water and her haphazard use of lotion.  He had a chemistry final coming up in 4 weeks. CO2, H2O, H2, HCl, NHCl, and whatever combination of letters least used in society. She was talking but logic wasn't coming out. CO2 definitely was. Did you know that mosquitoes are attracted to the CO2 that we breath? Not because of the smell of your blood, or the perfume you put on. That shit doesn't matter. It's all about the molecules.


He loved her or so he thought. In school he was not taught to recognize love. He can read formulas, molecules, atoms, acidity, ions, salt, elements and predict their reactions. Bonding. Yes I definitely understood bonding. That was simple. Double bonds, triple bonds. 

I definitely don't understand her. He breathed in O2 and let out some CO2. Her face faded into the diner the way red barns do among rustic wheat fields. 

Right now things are very clear and happy.

Certain songs can make me feel that way. Right now the combination of Daft Punk and Vietnamese coffee ain't all that bad. You should try it.

Temporal clarity and elation can exhaust you. Which may be a good metaphor to life anyways...

Can't be fucking happy all the time, you would annoy the fuck out of people, cos we know it isn't real.


---


Last night/early in the wee mornings a fellow volunteer and I were staying up late, I was working on a film clip and she was doing an email catch up. We also wanted to keep a certain mouse company. I think he/she was hungry because it was running everywhere. I screamed and jumped on my chair each time I saw it. Hey buddy. It ran around and when it saw me it would screech to a halt, catch itself and run into a different direction. Nhu Tien got a box ready to catch it.

Nhu Tien: Volunteer by day... from Kim Dam on Vimeo.

We never did catch that mouse (and another one!) updated: 5/19/2011


---

The sun sets pink over the horizon.

A young girl working right side her family picking these bull horn looking potato tasting snack.

The Mekong Delta snakes through southern Vietnam. Most of the rural families rely on it for fish, food, and other forms of income.

Noodles on the go.

The back of the room where we did anti-human trafficking workshops. This is the hat of a mother, she uses it to cover the hot sun while picking chili peppers.

The mekong delta.

Smart way of rocking the baby and resting.

Preventing human trafficking of girls like her.

Eating pho in rural areas.

Her fingers are not black from dirt. It is the residue from picking chili peppers, they snap it with their fingers because they are not given cutting tools. They are paid 3,000 VND (17 cents) for every kilo of chili peppers they pick. She does this on top of going to school.

I've recently returned from the rural areas after doing anti-human trafficking and the importance of education for our scholarship recipients and their parents. I'm also messign with Adobe Premiere Pro its pretty fun =) more GRE procrastination. Will post the video once its final.

Reduced to a single sentence, no one knows how much he lingers.

Phasing in and out, the buzzing hums of the air conditioner fill the room with a sense of nostalgia, silent enough to remain unnoticed to a talkative mouth, but present enough to know that it is still there. It hums. 


If you are quiet enough, still enough, you can hear it filling up the room. Displacing the humidity that could of been, it commands the atmosphere, making it to be an exact 22 degrees Celsius.  The birds that have moved into my ventilation fan decide to chirp but only in the daytime. Perhaps this is the time that they rest in their nest since flying by day may cause them to lay victim to other hungry creatures that may eat them. This is what I imagine. I awake a bit. Lethargically blurred, I lay in my king size bed twisted between sheets and blankets unsure of what to do with myself. Too tired to move. I cough. Long faded thoughts of him surface causing me to be more awake than I want to be. I decide to shift my thoughts away from that into cloudless realms of disillusion about the future and such, streaming those memories into something else and phase out again. It hums presently.


---

@ Things,  a cafe in Saigon (will write review soon)

My art based reproductive health workshops for the trafficking survivors at the shelter start tomorrow. I haven't really thought of a clever name for the project but I am really excited for this. It sort of brings together the many intersections of my interests. Art, education and health. I am really looking forward to teaching the girls some things through fun creative activities that will help turn on their thinking skills and utilize skills that I know they all have but have yet to even tap into.

Each month, I will do one workshop on various reproductive health topics, with the support of other facilitators and people experienced in the field, including:

Healthy is beautiful: Identity & Body Image
Eating health: Nutrition & Exercise
Sexual Anatomy, Reproduction, & the Menstrual Cycle
STDs, HIV, Birth Control
Violence, abuse & building healthy relationships
Maintaining healthy relationships & Emotional well-being

These topics were based off of the book "Our Bodies, Ourselves" a very comprehensive book about women's health written by the Boston Women's Health Book Collective.

Tomorrow's will be the first one, so it will lay down the foundation for the rest of the series. I really just want to get the creative avenues brooding and their brains thinking about things. Basically to get them moving. So tomorrow won't be information heavy, the topic is healthy is beautiful, exploring body image and identity.

I'm going to try to capture this project on this blog along with the myriad of things that I do and see. I've recently bought all the art supplies for the first workshop, and it was quiet an adventure going to get them, from learning about the paint shops in district 5 of Saigon to knowing where to get good paper boxes in Long Xuyen City, to hanging out in the bookstores only to find some things for my own personal use (like a cutting mat and tracing paper).

The workshops will culiminate with the production of two books, which I've asked my graphic designer friend Donna Choi to help me out with, since she's also interested in the process of story telling and she's pretty good at this stuff too. One book will be a personal portfolio of the art work produced during this time, this one will be more of a commemoration gift for the girls to keep. I also know they will be making amazing things, and because it is pertinent that their identities are kept private, I think its important to read their stories through the images they produce. The second booklet, will be a small handbook made by young women for young girls about reproductive health. It will be useful to pass out to our future recipients if the booklet is written well. I also have this separate idea of a small exhibition for the girls to showcase their art. I'll keep you posted.

Also, I've recently began drawing lessons with a teacher at the Ho Chi Minh City School of Fine Arts - He's generously offered free lessons and I am grateful for them as drawing for me has always been a bothersome fear. I spent about three or so hours drawing a clear glass cup. The concentration and diligence drawing requires requires me to tap into a place of patience that I often do not tap into. It requires me to use my vision in a very anomalous (GRE word) way, to see deeper into what an object consists of, the light that hits it and how an environment effects the way the cup looks in my mind. Here are drawings from my first two sessions.

2nd try

3rd try

This is is after I fixed my first draft - keeping in mind that I must "look deeper"

The next day, my assignment was to draw all three of these! Took me forever. It's three objects on white cloth on a wooden chair...

I guess my last 6 months won't be so bad. I'm also preparing for my GRE's, taking them on June 23rd, just before my 24th birthday.

I've also had scattered thoughts about making short films about my life here, and video updates, but I'm as disorganized already and keeping this blog, art and photography on top of work combatting human trafficking in the Vietnam is about all I can keep up with right now.

Occassionally, or almost always I relapse into faded memories.

serious face*

Sometimes I slip between emotions and fall into a space that I cannot comprehend or convey with clarity. My favorite moments are those that I experience isolated, even when there is someone next to me.

"On the tip of my tongue

As the back beats cracks

I hit my drum

I get into my car"

It's more about the process, rarely about the result. 

If you reflect back on whatever memories your mind chooses to recall, it's selective, few, and unpredictable.  I surround myself with images, things I like, and visual things because well, I tend to forget a lot. I have a pretty good habit of collecting small items, such as ticket stubs, scribble pieces of paper, or receipt, throwing them in some drawer in case I may need it for the future. 

What if I want to remember? What if I need to show people, perhaps my grandchildren?

I think about these things.

She looks down because looking up may mean that she will see the blue hues not as how she intended it to be. She realizes that the possibility of giving up is probable but unlikely to happen. Relishing in moments of rising fears, her heart hears her breathe. Steady but heavy. Steady. But heavy. Heavy. She holds her breath. Pinches her nose so the water doesn't come in. Breathe. Steady. Leap.

And the blue hues swirled exactly as she expected.

Now being in Vietnam, my realizations are much more stronger, vibrant, and easily detected. Chosen displacement is a privilege and I take advantage of it. For the most part, I lay hidden and when my identity as a "foreigner" is revealed I cringe inside. A knot twists and I get over it. Annoyed but I'm over it. I've had many other realizations during my time here, too much to even begin to write down, but I suppose I must start somewhere.

• Our assumptions about people are always never complete.
• People process and reflect on things very differently from one another - this sometimes causes conflicts
• People don't think like me. Some do, but even when I think they do, they don't completely.
• Everyone has something to share - although the will to share is another story.
• People are very very giving.
• Sharing your life with someone requires a great deal of effort and opening on your behalf.
• You don't need to find love, really you just have to be prepared to accept it, it's all around you.
• There is no single right solution to complex multi-faceted problems.
• People only know as much as you share with them.
• Sharing requires a vulnerability from me that I am not really well prepared for.
• I create distance in order to not be disappointed by others. I get disappointed at myself instead.
• Children are a lot stronger than we think they are.
• People are a lot more resilient than I think.
• In order to really get the whole picture of a situation it requires time, access & understanding. The whole picture may never be achieved.
• Patience
• Sharing my thoughts and ideas is very difficult for me because I am highly afraid of judgement and rejection. Something I've conditioned myself with.
• The habits of my parents make complete sense.
• I wallow back and forth awkwardly between my identity as a child and an adult.
• I'm ready to fall in love.
• I am content with what is in front of me. 
• I lack discipline and often get lost in my thoughts or facebook. 
• Often times, the issues discussed in the first world never ever make it to the community being spoken of in the third world. They have no idea what you are talking about, what your life is like, nor do they care.
• Don't invalidate other people's experiences, thoughts, and opinions - yours is like that because of your background, theirs is like that because of theirs - find a middle ground. share.
• Adults don't remember what it's like to be in a younger person's shoes.
• I sometimes don't remember.
• People make up a lot of excuses for their fears.
• The Office is really funny.
• Being "silenced" because you don't know the language is a complete eye opener and transforms the way I think about "voice" To literally not be able to speak your mind is a very frustrating and disempowering process. It's liberating once you overcome it. 
• Express what you think to people, people cannot predict at all what you are thinking.
• Human trafficking is not going to go away.
• It's hard to "un-do" what a person has learned.

I've met amazing admirable people along my time here, and I am grateful to have made all the friends and acquaintances that I have made. I have learned that its not about wanting things and wishing it would be like this or that. Things do not necessarily come to you unless you are ready to receive it. I've also had the opportunity to spend  a great deal of time with older women, families, and strangers. Surprisingly strangers are really really nice to me. Even though its fleeting, it has shaped the way that I treat others in my life. 

*In real life, I actually cannot hold this look on my face for more than 10 seconds. I smile too much.

Have you ever tried to trace rain droplets as they dance by?

Happenstance childhood pass times of mine include putting black olives on each of my fingers and eating them one by one. Like sitting around with my finger on the record button waiting to record a song from my favorite band on the radio with a tape. Like trying to follow the rain droplets as they hit the window on fast freeways. One of the reasons why I abhor driving is because I enjoy being a passenger. 

I get to see so much more. And for the conveniences of my happenstance childhood pass times I rather enjoy the long bus rides. As evidenced from my previous blog posts I am not having a good time transitioning back to Vietnam. I don't think its homesickness necessarily. I feel it is a helplessness that I can control but don't feel like it. It also has something to do with the energy that is surrounding me. 

I was reminded of one of my happenstance childhood pass times as I stared out the window of the big orange bus that I take for 5 hours at least once a month here in Vietnam.

Long Xuyen --> Saigon

Saigon --> Long Xuyen

5 hours at least once a month in Vietnam.

I go to the bus station in Long Xuyen which is a 3 minute walk from where I live. I avoid eye contact with xe om drivers as they ask me if I need a ride. No you twit, I'm at the bus station. I think to myself that, but never say anything. I should be nicer.

I get there approximately 10 - 15 minutes before. I get my ticket from the ticket counter 90, 000 vnd ($4.50 USD) At one point a woman working there recognized me and my name. Why are you going this time Kim? For fun I reply. She smiles and wishes me a good trip. Sadly, I don't recall her face so I won't know if I saw her again. There is something about hegemony, that when are not really a part of it, especially language wise its hard to remember.

From there it is a 30 minute ride to the ferry. Sometimes the wait to get on the ferry can be up to 30 minutes, which drags on for what seems like forever. If there is no wait, then it takes about 15 minutes to cross the ferry. I pretend to sleep so I don't have to get off the bus, since its a "rule" for passengers to get off the bus and onto the ferry by foot. I guess, for our safety. Disregarding my safety and facing the possibility of drowning, I delight in staying in the bus. A small win. Then I proceed to look out my window at the people on the ferry. Little kids jumping from the side into the muddy unclear waters of the Mekong Delta as if no water born diseases exist. Only fun did. That was the only thing on their mind.

Unlike them, that is never the only thing on my mind.

Children, women and men of all sorts, from the small child who sells lottery tickets who doesn't know further than the boundaries of Long Xuyen, but knows more about the hustle than I could ever know to the woman who is trying to raise her two kids on selling fruits and cigarettes from a small basket. I find them fearfully resilient. For them to be positioned where they are, but to be able to somehow make the most of it, I find ever so strong. A strength that I fear. But I suppose its about survival more than anything and when you gotta survive you do what you have to do. Survival for me comes easier and I recognize this.

Unlike them, that is never the thing on my mind.

Before my bus got on the ferry I watched the droplets. They were not from rain but from the fact that the temperature of the air conditioning in the bus contrasted greatly from the humidity outside. I was really cold. The droplets reminded me of times where I chased rain droplets in the U.S. since going really fast on freeways during the rain resulted in the droplets hitting the window at a really high speed and therefore causing them to dance. I always tried to trace them as if it would result in something. It never did, they just danced in this repetitive cycle. New ones came in. Old ones out. Transient.

This past weekend I made the trip emptily. I didn't know why I was going but felt the need to get out of Long Xuyen, since I knew I was going to feel lonely. Might as well feel lonely in a big city than a small town. I thought to myself. Bad choice. Of course I get a splitting headache from feeling useless and hopeless. Sitting in a very pretty cafe I was unhappy with where I was. Why I was there. Purposeless. All the work that I had to do. Unmotivated. Even talking to a people I felt so emotionless, I knew it came across as so. Everything that I had to get done didn't mean anything to me. Moot if you will. Moot is a word I learned in 9th grade.

Moot: Having no practical significance, typically because the subject is too uncertain to allow a decision.

Right now its gotten to the point where music isn't hitting me the same. And that's a bad bad sign in Kim Dam's book. However, Fleet Foxes's self titled album is keeping me hopeful and afloat and does tracing rain drops even if they don't dance by. Even if they don't dance by. Still. 


Comparisons are my weakness. I do it alot. Where I compare my life to others. And then get sad over it. That they are living a "better" life. But I gotta really kick myself and remind myself that all these thoughts are arbitrary. I am only seeing what they allow me to see. I only compare what I see. The good. Which is why I'm trying to better relate my stories and what I see in my life. Regardless of where I am. At least once a month I travel somewhere. It doesn't hit me that I've traveled to 8 different countries in the last 1.5 years of my life and more cities, provinces, villages, v.v.  than I can count.

Time to refocus. Time to focus on the positive. Time to not let myself down. Time to get out of this unhealthy rut. Time to not be sick and exhausted all the time. Time to feel. Time to find the roots of things again. Time to do me. Time to get things down with passion. Time.

It's just time.

Timing.

About time.

Thoughts running loose, I've been unable to catch them and it's starting to overwhelm me.

I'm frustrated that the little critters run quickly, so quickly in fact that they slip from my mind as if they didn't even exist. And "quiet as its kept" their inability to come to fruition is its downfall or at least its mine that is. And as trees decide to retreat, the dirt road no longer speaking, and the sunset no longer as bright, it's become awfully quiet. I've become awfully quiet. Removing situations aside, displacing oneself doesn't quite work if the displacing no longer feels like its happening. When surroundings become familiar and change doesn't seem to want to come about. When what your looking has been there all along, you just had to find it. When things seem so jumbled that fixing it feels hopelessness. Hopelessness is an awful feeling but when it blankets you it does. Passion is as passion does. I know what I'm capable of. Creativity has been lost for me. Lost between the lines of keyboard and screens. My creativity has been lost and I've been trying to find it ever since.

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Art - based reproductive health workshops for trafficking returnees from rural areas of Vietnam

This mouthful is what I've been working on for the last 1.5 years while I am here in Vietnam. I have a fellowship project that I have to vaguely put it "dedicate to the community at need. My friend Patricia has been my main partner in crime in pulling this together and inspiring me. I'm glad that she decided to land herself in Vietnam too. 

My creative process has always been a haphazard one. And when I try to control it. When I try to face it. It's scary. Something so foreign that I shoved aside for other pursuits that I've lost the ability to be free with it. As free as I was once with scissors and paper. I think too much.

I need to not think so much.

Clyfford Still one of my favorites. 

Throw it at me.