blotches on my monitor make things less clear

I must start this blog with a picture:

I was moving my parent's van a short distance so I left my the side doors open. My backpack fell out and got caught under the wheel. For some reason, that morning, I decided to bring my laptop (I think I was considering applying for jobs in my down time, which ironically, I now need more than ever.). In a flurry, I moved the car, and checked my laptop, which seemed fine, but when I turned it on, I found the screen looked like this.  I am now writing this blog on with the above blotches on my screen (mirrored, of course). 

So this, of course, sucks. To emphasize the blow, my camera was in the bag and so the display doesn't work, so I cannot see the pictures I have taken (It's like I'm in the 90s.) and I can't change the settings (or I could change them, but I don't know what I'd be changing them from or to.). Furthermore, this is just one week after I had to replace the windshield of my car after some random thing coming off a car or truck on the highway hits me. For the first time in my life, I will be incapable of paying off my credit card bill in full - just in time for the start of my new life.

But the weirdest thing is I'm not too stressed about it. I initially freaked out and cried, yes, but I soon concluded that it's all just stuff and money. Could this be evidence of growth? Or just does this happen to be a good day for Esther's insides? 

This has been a weird week for your friend, Esther. It's the first week without shows, yet with dispersed activity, and a LOT of introspection. Mostly the old stuff, but also a new question: Should I go to Korea again this summer? I would be doing the same job, and making the same money. On one hand, the money would be nice, but on the other hand, it kinda feels like selling out - doing a job I don't like for the money, while I escape the responsibility of pursuing my dreams. I'm not saying I'll never go back, but right now, when I'm trying to begin, it seems cowardly to delay that.  But with all this cash draw, maybe I'm being forced into a decision. Does God work that way?

Also: This is the first blog I have done with importing to Facebook. I think I'm shy, but right now, it's important for me to share my journey.

the wheels on the bus

I hate to say it but I've been on this bus for about 8 hours now, and I don't totally hate myself! The bus has wi-fi so I've internet-bugged a lot of people, watched Early Edition and Scrubs... Actually this bus ride is kind of what I do on my days off. That's sad for every other time but now. (Yay!)

So, it's no secret that I've been doing my typical angst-about-the-future thing. Right now, I can talk about it in a logical manner. The questions running through my head are:

1. "What am I going to do with the rest of my life?"

I'm deciding to disregard this question because it is far too general to answer, and it also tends to lead to despair.  The only answers I can think of that are true always sound a bit trite.

2. "Will I ever be able to work in this industry?" 

This can also be an unproductive in the question because it is inherently pessimistic. If this was an SAT question, I would instruct my students to not answer "No" because that would be too extreme. A less extreme answer would be "Yes", because sometime down the line I should be able to work. An even less extreme answer (and therefore, the best answer) would be "Maybe." 

And this is, of course, guessing strategy. With the information I have, however, the answer is "Probably." This may seem overly confident to some, and a little too careful for others, but I think this is the most correct answer. It's a hard industry, and realistically, I don't have a lot of experience, I'm not a dancer, I'm not the strongest singer, and I'm not the best actor (yet). Also, even with the reassurances of many of my teachers, I don't believe being a non-white, non-skinny girl is an asset (yet).

But to neglect the other side of the story would also not be honest (though tempting, because at least with one side of the story, we can be conclusive). I've been to Sheridan, and on top of the training I've received, I have many great friends who I want to collaborate with. I can pick up dance combinations better than I ever could, and in a show situation, I can even pull it off. My voice is still growing, but furthermore, I like the way it sounds sometimes. And despite whether I'm a good actor or not, I believe in it. I work hard and I can be funny and thoughtful. I've been writing songs that I like, and I think I can tell some good stories. 

If you've been keeping track, these arguments lead us to a very strong "Maybe," but here's where I'll push into "Probably." I want to do it. I want to tell stories. I want to share my songs and expose God's narrative in my life. So that's why I tentatively say "Probably."

3. "How am I going to make money?" 

So I'm on a bus to NYC. Who does that? People trying to squeeze every penny at the expense of their own comfort. I'm planning to go to see shows, but I haven't bought any tickets hoping that I'll get some rush tickets. When I come back home, I think I'll have about $100 to my name. I feel capable of many things, but getting jobs that I didn't hate has never been a skill of mine.

I need a job that is flexible so I can audition, and that I wouldn't feel too bad leaving if I got a performing. Or maybe I need to put something on hold.

Anyway, that's what's happening in my brain. Maybe NYC has something to tell me, and I'll have interesting and insightful things to say for my ride home.

Happy 2009!

Ah, yes. It's that time of year again - the end of it: the wonderful time of retrospect and blogging! This was the end of the year I arbitrarily named Year of Not Being Shy. So I don't know what I really did this year besides change my Facebook profile and go to Korea, which I don't know qualifies as "not being shy" but significant nonetheless.

Anyway, I don't feel so great about YNBS as I did about Year Without Fear. Year Without Fear was a year of great change, and while YNBS did have some lovely moments, it wasn't as slap-in-your-face changing. To be honest, I don't know if I committed to the whole "not being shy" as much as I should have - I don't know if I was totally sold that my being shy was a bad thing. Shouldn't I exercise caution when meeting new people? (Especially cute boys?)

I've been avoiding thinking during this very long holiday. So much so that I've even taken up regular exercise. (I know! What is going on with me?) Is there something I'm avoiding? Is there something that I'm trying not to look at too hard? Or am I finally getting over my over-analytical emo phase?

2009 is a big year. Graduation, looking for work, making work, moving (where to? maybe Toronto? maybe somewhere else?). I'm really really really scared.

May this year be everything it could be, friends. May you become more of who you were meant to be. Happy 2009!

imperfect polaroids

I came across a picture yesterday of myself when I first came to Sheridan. It's a horrible Polaroid of me at the audition. I looked at the picture and thought "Wow, have I changed!" Is that true? And if it is true, has that change been growth?

I feel like some parts of my growth have been figuring out what I'm not, which is painful and humbling. But sometimes, maybe I need to differentiate between what I'm not and what I'm not yet. I'm not an ingenue, and probably never will be, and I'm also not someone who has tact and grace coming out of every pore, but hopefully, someday, I will be.

taking my own advice/following my brother's example

I was talking to my sister on the weekend, and she was talking about when we were kids. If Danny would act up, we had completely different approaches to it. Gloria, in all her 11-year-old wisdom, decided that the best way for us to help him was to set an example. My response, according to her, was "That won't work!!" so I decided to yell at him while Gloria acted how she thought he should act.

Today, the trend continues. I still yell at my brother (though not as often, and much subtler), and my latest piece of "advice" to my brother was to write in his blog daily. He wants to be a writer, and it seemed like good advice. What I didn't really anticipate is that he would actually do it. Instead of waiting for inspiration, he's just writing down his uninspired thoughts, and the result is wonderful. So, now, by some weird combination of things, I am following my brother following my advice. I'm going to try and write a blog everyday. Maybe the result won't be very good, but at least I'll be consistently getting things down. Like my brother, I want to be a writer someday (I'd like to write a play someday.), also, I want to be a songwriter, but lately the inspiration doesn't seem to be there. But maybe I just need to practice. Or maybe it's not what I'm meant to do. Or maybe that's being pessimistic. Sometimes I can't tell.

I'm in the theatre right now, doing mic checks for Two Gentlemen of Verona. I keep on missing my turn to go up. Everyone is a little grumpy or a little down. I'm trying to muster up some sunshine. That's not easy.

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.

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.

only on my two thousandth coffee

This blog is in response to this one, by one of my favourite bloggers, LtK. She just moved to a new city, in a new country, away from a church she loved and felt loved at (incidentally, the church I went to as well), and started to look for a new church.

I found this blog particularly interesting because I've been experiencing something similar. I haven't moved to another country - in fact, I haven't even left the province. I'm just an hour's drive away from Toronto, but having finished my degree and going to another school and moving, I just felt like it was time to find another church. I wanted to be at a church near where I live so I could actively be involved in the community.

That was two years ago. Since then, I've been to at least seven different churches. Many different kinds of services, but mainly I've been looking for words like "youth" and "contemporary worship." I joke that I've become a church hopper, but I feel less like an adventurous nomad but more like an intrusive couch-crasher. LtK talks of standing around awkwardly, waiting for someone to talk to you, which I certainly relate to*. But more than that, I feel like I'm always standing on the outside, first of all, watching how the people treat each other, and secondly, I find myself critically observing the worship and service, not willing to buy into anything completely. After going to the same church for four years, it's hard for me to accept anything that's not exactly the same.

But I forget that God is in all these places, and He can't fit into the single church model I've made in my mind. It's really me that's far too limited to be able to fit into these other churches. On one hand, it's wonderful to see different people pursue God, but on the other, I feel really alone because I can't seem to find someone to relate to.

I'm going to Korea on the 21st of May, so the Church Search will be temporarily put to rest. I'm looking forward to seeing how Koreans do church.



*I think I've been too afraid of awkwardness. Awkwardness has become the gauge of acceptable social behaviour. Just don't get awkward and anything else you do is fine.

an infinitely-sided die would be a sphere

As a kid, I sporadically watched Ready Or Not*. Never regularly - it was hard for me to pin down when it actually showed, but these two episodes stuck in my mind. The first was an episode about a black boy working for Busy's father, and Busy's father being racist and and stupid. My conclusion: Some people are racist and stupid.

The next episode I remember... Maybe it was just a piece of an episode, but I remember Busy going to some prom and her and her dad having a beautiful father-daughter moment. And, honestly, I was confused. Isn't this the racist dad? How can he be loving when he's so prejudiced?

Now, I'm not saying Ready Or Not is wonderful TV, way ahead of its time, but even now, it's hard for me to watch TV and buy that someone can do a really bad thing and still be good. Now, we have tons of TV and film where we justify the bad things that people do (murder, theft, adultery), so we don't think they're bad anymore, but we don't usually show that people can love people so well, and then hate for unacceptable reasons.

I don't think I like to see hypocrites because they're hard to understand.

I'm coming to a point in my life where there are people I don't like. For these people, I'm so willing to write off every good thing they do as attention-seeking or fake or needy. Also, for the people I like, I can't deal with the things they do that are bad - I justify them, so I can continue liking them. But then my own beliefs get muddled. It's too hard for me to allow people to have more than one side.

Maybe things will be easier once I come to terms with my culture.



*I read earlier today in a book called Why Do Men Fall Asleep After Sex? that studies have shown that television doesn't actually rot your brain. In fact, children who watch TV from an early age have the same or greater aptitude for learning, as compared to those who don't.

rash decision

So as a result of a very intense acting tutorial, I've decided to go to Korea for the summer to teach English. I've found a job, and I'm currently in the process of getting all the paperwork done. Cool, eh? Maybe not, we'll see. I bet it will be a blog-worthy experience.

my name is esther and i'm korean*

As YNBS progresses, I'm finding out how limited I am. Shyness is funny - it actually hides your other faults: your severe lack of tact and eloquence, your bitterness and judgement, your pretentiousness, et cetera.

On Friday, a teacher suggested that much of my difficulty with acting may be rooted in my denial of my Korean-ness. If I can't be myself, how can I know how to be someone else? I argued that I wasn't really Korean because I don't speak Korean, have Korean friends, or eat a lot of Korean food (He scoffed at this one). His point was that it was certainly a part of me, my blood, my family, and to deny it is putting myself in tension. "You think everyone else is racist? You should listen to yourself."

And it's true. It's gut-wrenchingly, fall-down-on-the-floor-crying-ly true. If someone asked me what I liked about being Korean, the list would be very short. I mean, I'm proud of my accomplishments, but I hate how my piano playing, taekwon-do black belt, engineering degree and general consciousness make me a stereotype. So I've pushed away anything Korean.

How can I live like that? Everyone can see that I am not white, but I've been trying to deny it, and perhaps, missing out on some major clues about who I am.

I watched Mulan last night, and balled.** In some ways, I'm so that girl trying to figure out how she fits into the world, but, as a Korean-Canadian, I don't have to fight against my culture.

I wrestled the angel for more than a name.
-"Twenty-Four" by Swichfoot

*You may have noticed that I usually talk about being Asian, rather than Korean - Oh no, that would be too revealing. I make "Asian" jokes. I make generalizations about an entire continent rather than one country.
**Damn you, Disney. For all your corporate power, you can still tell a good story.

2008: YNBS

Happy New Years, my friends! In nine hours, we'll all welcome 2008 with singing, probably drinking, and friends. And to prepare, I have fallen into my usual year-end introspect.* Remember 2007: Year Without Fear? Well, a couple weeks ago, I was determined to find another year-long experiment, since 2007:YWF was so fruitful, and also, I feel like I've been falling asleep at the wheel - you know what I mean? I want to be conscious of the choices I make, and not pull into my driveway wondering where the last hour of my life went.

So, this year, I declare 2008: Year of Not Being Shy. It's not very catchy, I realize, but everything else I thought of would sacrifice meaning or sounded so lame I wanted to throw up. 2008:YNBS is about not hiding from people. I'm really shy, friends! I'm so worried about what people, especially new people think of me, that I forget to love them or I forget to pursue who I want to be. It takes me a long time to become friends with people because I'm always terrified of becoming overbearing or annoying. And this is just a trivial example, but on Facebook, I won't add people as friends - I'll only accept Friend Requests.

Also, I want to be a performer, but I am so ashamed to admit it. It's one of those tensions I was talking about. How can I want everyone to look at me and want everyone to not look at me at the same time? How can I want to be heard, but mumble when people are listening? Why would I publish a blog, and cringe whenever someone found out? Why would I post songs on MySpace, but never mention it to anyone? Well, obviously I'm afraid. But enough of that.

This year, I'm going to overcompensate. This afternoon, I changed my Facebook profile to say more about myself, honestly, I did it with chattering teeth.† There are so many things on that profile that I didn't put in because I was uber conscious of the image I was portraying. Of course, I'd like to pretend that I was creating a mystique, but what good is mystique if no one can get through?

Here's to the New Year! I hope this works out. I'll just be happy if I come out of this year with better diction.


*Not to be confused with my beginning-of-the-year introspect or summer introspect or any-other-time introspect.

† Most of the people I really expect never say anything about themselves on the internet, which I think is cool and wise. However, I don't think they have my crippling fear of social vulnerability. As a general disclaimer, I'd like to say that the examples I'm giving don't necessarily indicate my brand of reclusion. In fact, my brand of reclusion has been specially crafted to imitate confidence!

hell semester 2: this time it's personal

I'm closing off the first semester of my second year at Sheridan's music theatre program, that which is commonly referred to as "hell semester": a dance critique, an acting critique, plus a full class load equals lots of blood, sweat, and tears. This isn't the first time I've heard the phrase "hell semester" however. Similarly, in my second semester of my second year we had a hell semester: classes, labs, tutorials, plus a design project. This time, however, I feel more bare, more exposed. A bad mark in school now may mean less in academic terms, but when it's an evaluation of your performance, it seems way too hard to separate the work from the worker.

This weird deja vu has got me into that "where am I going?" thinking again. Sometimes I catch myself thinking that I could have a Master's degree by now. But then again, that's a lie: I never had any intention of going to grad school, and if I did, I probably wouldn't be done it by now. The idea of alternate lives is really interesting, but I doubt things would be much different than they are. I mean, 1. Now that I'm here, there doesn't really seem to be any other place I could be, right now, except for Sheridan; and 2. Coming here wasn't a split decision. Even if it ever seemed like it, that split decision is the result of all the experiences preceding it. Maybe I could be in teacher's college, but I'd probably be doing the same existential angst thing I'm so good at.

If I went to teacher's college, I'd be a teacher right now. Weird. Maybe things could be way different.

worried and upset about many things

So, I'm a worrier. I worry about school: whether I can do school, whether I deserve to be there, whether I'm actually getting better, whether I'm working hard enough, etc.

I worry about life after school: What am I going to do once it's over? What if I run out of ideas and can't be an artist? What if I run out of money? What if I decide I want to be an engineer and no one wants to hire me?

I worry about myself: Am I where I'm supposed to be? Am I being true to myself? Am I overlooking a major character flaw that will eventually lead to my demise?

"...but only one thing is needed."*

"The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love."**

I'm not really sure of the true implications of this. What? Am I supposed to just drop everything?




maybe.



*Luke 10:42
**Galatians 5:6

existential angst

This weekend, I had the opportunity to hang out with two of my favourite cousins. We were watching Korean soap operas and doing laundry and here was an almost-40-year-old mother-of-two, an almost-30-year-old new mother, and me, the token 20-something. And it was cool, because I've known these wonderful women since I was born, and suddenly, it's like I can finally talk to them and understand their perspective more than I ever could have before. Not to say that I know what it's like to be a mother or almost-40, but as we asymptotically reach that same age*, I find myself thinking of what it would be to be their age, rather than dismissing it as a time far removed from me.

Anyway, almost-30-year-old new mother said something that struck me. "I'm glad my 20s are almost over. In the 20s, there's too much existential angst." Everyone I know who has turned 30 ended up getting a funky new haircut or a new bf/gf or a new apartment, etc. The point is that they seem to be coping with the end of their 20s rather than celebrating.

So now, in this light, how do I perceive my 20s? I'm still early on, but I am certainly existentially angsty. The 20s are supposed to be a time of new independence and identity! A time to be young and reckless! A time to try new things and be fearless! They're all the same thing, right? We just use different words when it's fun or when it's annoying.

Oy vey. I'm already tired. I wish I was old already.



*I think we should age on a logarithmic scale, where as you get older, you age less. This way we can numerically reflect the fact that a 5-year old is much older than a 4-year old, but a 75-year old is not much older than a 74-year old.

fitting in

When I was younger (I won't say how much younger because it might be embarrassing.) I wrote a punk song about how I didn't want to fit in. But as I get older, the more and more I realize that isn't true. I do want to fit in. I think the punk song was more about what I wanted to want, rather than what I actually wanted. Because when you want to fit in, you so often get disappointed, so it's much better just to not want it.

This question has been bouncing around in my brain since the end of the year. I have been to a few different places - U of T, Sheridan, La Pocatiere, high school, Skule Nite, various churches, various classes - and I'm wondering where I actually fit. In high school, I was the smart one, so I went to U of T. At U of T, I was the theatre one, so I went to Sheridan. And now, at Sheridan, I don't know what I am, so I don't know where to go next.

So here's the question: do you fit in where you blend in the most or where you stand out the most? Denise Norman told me that I was unique, which I have heard before, but honestly, hasn't everyone?* But if I am truly unique, maybe I won't blend in anywhere. Maybe the place where I belong is where who I am will be brought to light, and that might be shown by contrast rather than in a context of similar people.

I don't know. Maybe there is no such place.


*Isn't it ironic? Don't you think?

every mountain and hill made low

Today, right after I finished making this speech about how I don't like bad grammar, I said "I speak really good."

Ouch. It seems my God is one of irony.

i want to be old and wise

I no longer want to be young and silly, but rather: old, sensible, and wise. Perhaps a total lack of sense would give me the desired result, but as it stands, it is impossible for me to be foolish without realizing it, regretting it, and being totally confused.

So I guess I am very young and very silly.

As it stands, my understanding of everything just must be kind of shallow. I think I want to be silly, but what I really want and need is the very wise, in-depth understanding of when it's okay to let go, so I can actually do it.

Quote of the day: "I'm just worried I won't get to relax this week." God help me.

"i want to be young and silly"

Ever see that episode of Dead Like Me, in the not-as-good-as-the-first-season second season, where George gets all mad at Inigo Montoya for her being dead at the beginning of the episode? Anyway, she says to Inigo "I want to be young and silly," and then sometime after, Inigo says "You are."

Okay, so I realize that obscure quotes aren't usually very effective unless someone, anyone at all, knows what you're talking about. But my life and thoughts, although original in their way, seem to be a collection of experiences and pop culture.* So excuse me for these ambiguous quotes from short-lived tv shows.

Coming back to the point, I want to be young and silly. I want to be able to let go of all this "sense" I have. Often, I find my reason and my emotions at battle with each other, and it's a little annoying when you're crying, and while you know why you're crying, it doesn't seem very reasonable to do so (knowing things like "You wanted a challenge" and "There are bigger problems in the world" and the ever powerful "It's no big deal").

I want to be able to be totally ridiculous and be in a scene where I'm sexy and forget about the fact that I'm so embarrased and actually just have pure, unadulterated fun.

Damn it. Why do I have to be so mature and reasonable?




*I tried writing a song the other day. The hardest thing is to try and make something new, but I quickly found myself sampling from songs I knew, which was totally interesting. It's like it was a ransom letter - using cut-outs from different contexts and make them say what you mean.

writer's blocked

It's Sunday. Breathe.

You know, I never really meant to make this blog a place where I obligingly update the internet about my life. I always meant it as an outlet for the thoughts bubbling over the top. I kind of feel like I am running out of things to say.

Scary.

My life is simple nowadays - school, then school, then more school. For the end of the year, we have to choreograph and perform a dance piece to any song that we want as long as it is 2-4 minutes long. To be honest, I don't think I've ever danced a piece longer than 2 minutes, let along choreograph. I'm totally intimidated, but more than anything, I'm afraid that maybe I don't have enough to say in order to do something meaningful. I want the piece to be a story that's real to me, but, hello, dancing isn't exactly my strength.

I want to make art. I want to write songs that speak truth. I want to write plays that inspire. I want to choreograph meaningful stories. But maybe the question is why.

How does God choose his prophets?