time warp

I am coming to a point in my life where I have to make some decisions. And these questions like "What will I do when I graduate?" or "Where will I live?" are not only practical questions, but they seem to encapsulate a piece of my identity - namely, the kind of artist I will be. How can I be a Christian artist? A Canadian artist? A Korean-Canadian artist?

I think it's pretty daring of me to to declare myself an artist. Who am I? An angsty adolescent with a blog, a few songs under belt and some big aspirations of acting. But I'm okay with being this bold. I want to make art. I want to change to world. I want to be a speaker of truth.

It's still shocking to me to think of three years ago when I was stressed out because I didn't know what I would be doing next September. This time, I'm kind of excited. I'm excited to find out what kind of shape my career/art/life will take. Now, I understand (cerebrally) that it will be hard - I will probably be working a crappy job, probably way below my qualifications, but at least I'll be chasing something, you know?

I'm probably being way too optimistic right now. Give me a few years to get hardened.

"what does SAT stand for?"

This summer, as you may know, I taught SAT prep, and in the first class, we couldn't really teach anything so we had to give a little intro talk on the SATs. I always started with the question "What does SAT stand for?" Now, if everything went as planned, I'd get a number of reasonable responses like Standard Aptitude Test or Scholastic Achievement Test, then some stupid ones like Silly Annoying Thing. Then, as a part of my attempt to make the kids like me, I'd add ones like Surf And Turf, or Sweet Apple Tart. AND THEN, as part of my final flourish, I'd announce that officially the letters SAT don't stand for anything. That was how I planned it. Usually what would happen is some smart-ass would say "It stands for nothing," and give away the whole thing, thus ruining my entire flourish.

Anyway, I'd usually barrel through, and said to them, "So what can we extrapolate* is that just as the letters SAT don't mean anything, the SAT does not mean anything - not achievement, not aptitude, not dinner choices. It's just a test that people have randomly assigned meaning to, and that's why you're taking this course." Now I said this to relax them a bit. That this test is only important because people say it is, and if their opinion matters, you have to work a bit, but it's still just a random test.

Now today and yesterday, my music theatre class was subjected to a series of auditions. How much these matter is a point in contention - the teachers know us and our work. They tell us it's a learning experience and that is probably true as well. But, you know, I'm coming to realize that these auditions are just like the SATs. They mean nothing. They don't necessarily represent how talented I am or how well I perform, but someone is attaching importance to it, suddenly, I have to work.

Needless to say, this blog is just a long way of saying "sour grapes." But, you know, maybe it's healthy to take a little bit comfort in meaninglessness. I will add this to the many scales to balance (lest I go too extreme in any given direction, which I certainly have been known to do).



*Then I'd write "extrapolate" on the board, and have them define it.

snap back to reality*

So I've been in Canada two weeks now, and Seoul seems so far away. Everything that happened there seems to be fictional at this point, and all the people I met and all the things I learned seemed to be encased within this storybook, rather than something that happened just a little while ago. As if I worked that much teaching SAT prep, math and physics! As if I shopped as much as I did! As if I stayed in a place where I didn't know the language for so long! It seems unreal. Even the spiritual growth I experienced seems very far away now.

So here I am at the beginning of my last year of musical theatre school. Can you believe it? I was talking to my friend at church today, and she said it just seemed like yesterday I was about to plunge into it from just finishing at U of T. Wow! As if I went to U of T for engineering! Everything is starting to be fictional.

Korea seemed to be training me for something. With Jubilee, I really learned a new way to worship God, which doesn't necessary seem to work the same way in my life here. Maybe it's this coming year, preparing me to make all these big decisions. I've totally been here before! Three years ago, I went through the same spiel of questions. Remember all those emo blogs? I liked them, but they were clearly from heart of angst of a 20-year-old girl. Now I am 23, and have everything under control!

This is my life, but I refuse to give that phrase too much gravity. There are either no mistakes or too many. Either way, if I try and control it I'll just get run over.

This year is my showcase year and I'm supposed to be coming to a point where I'll can show the world what I've learned over the last two years, and that's supposed to be some semblance of enough. This year, may I be bold enough to let myself be who all these experiences have led me to be.

This is a blog from December 2005. It's kind of crazy how life works. You know, secretly, I hoped that doing this musical theatre thing from engineering would make me more interesting to people. I'm not really sure if that worked. I think, no matter what I did three years ago, I'd be just as interesting, which just goes to show - what people actually do is kind of superficial. Really, how does it reflect the actual person? This week, I've met up with friends from university who are becoming lawyers, doctors and PhDs, but to me, they haven't changed - they're just finally finding their niche.

Too many big questions for one blog. I'm out of practice. I've missed you, written blog.




*At the noraebangs in Seoul, Lose Yourself became my signature song.