Maybe I'm really CRAZY.

   "So.. do you work?"
   "Umm.. no, I'm staying home mom."

   And there comes an unsatisfied, yet shy to reveal her voice swirls around my tongue. I constantly look for the right timing to say this sentence; "I also write."
   When I finally made the chance, my surprised opponent shows her fresh interest. And then she goes, "Oh, so are you a journalist?"

   "Umm.. no, I'm not. I'm on the process of writing a memoir and hoping to publish a book in the future." There, I said it! I said it!! My words left from my mouth, and it's in the air. Should I gather them up and put them back in my heart? Well, it's too late anyway. No matter how others will take this, I know I don't want to fool around with it. I said it because I meant it.

   Everybody knows by now that I'm not a native English speaker. They know I have different accents in my English, I have strange expression that it doesn't fit in English usage. Whenever my conversational partner is leaning toward me and approaching her/his ear close to me or raising her/his eyebrow, I know she/he didn't get what I just said.
   I used to have a red face whenever I didn't succeed continuing conversations. I felt like stopping everything and go home and cry. It was already hard effort to speak and start a conversation, and then I ended up being blocked by their puzzled reaction, possibly it must be my wrong English.
   (Wait a minute! Did I take it too serious? Then why did I take it too serious? Why didn't I just let it go? Why did I have to put so much pressure on my shoulder? Hmm.. I'm still figuring out. I know I will find the answer one day.)

   I love talking to people. I love knowing about people; their interest, their personalities, and their visions and dreams. I just love sharing words with people. Sometimes it's hard to explain how I feel about having conversation with people. I feel excited, happy, joyful, content. As much they share their stories with me, I share mine. When they get interested in my story, I share some more. I share my experiences and my thoughts. I try to be subtle and neutral because there's no point of making others uncomfortable by expressing my intense ideas and feelings. Anyway, people have their own way of seeing the world, and it doesn't have to be same as mine. In the end, having diversity of ideas and thoughts will prosper this world. This is my bottom line in terms of having conversations and I believe this is the mutual respect; 'I respect you as much as you respect me.'

   "Wow.. So, you are writing in English?"
   "Yes. I am." I answer firmly but still hesitating how to add it up,
   "I think being able to express ideas with two languages are great advantages for me. There are some expressions don't exist in English when I want to translate from Korean. Then I create my own and invent it. It's actually quite fun." I answer with smile and hoping that she understood how sincere I was.
 
  On my way home, I replay the previous conversations. Couldn't I explain better? Or did I explain too much? It doesn't matter now. I already said it, and it's out there. Some might think I'm really crazy doing this, writing a book in English. But that's what I like to do. Maybe I am really crazy.





  

Artists

  I'm very far from being an artist as far as I'm concerned. But one day I would like to be called "Yoon Sun Hee is the greatest artist of all time." Being called an artist must be a such an honor. I'm glad to smash up my long time prejudice finally.

  To tell the truth, I didn't respect their profession correctly, until recently. Somehow in my head, it was registered ; artists = financially troubled, highly frustrated in general life, socially awkward, in a nutshell they're not welcomed genius. For a long time, I didn't perceive them as they should be deserved.
  Partially because the people whose from my own background didn't appreciate the true value of art and influenced on me their crooked point of view. People openly mocked and ridiculed artist's passion, just because the most self-proclaimed artists were not wealthy. Generally, it was considered if you are an artist, you will die from hunger.

  Now I'm questioning if they even understood the word of "art." If they didn't know the real meaning of art, then why would they judge things so wrongly. How come they thought they knew better and believed they were better than these purely creative people. I'm really confused by all. It seems like I need to educate myself all over from the beginning.

  Here, sitting on the corner of State st. and 16 st., a cafe called "overflow", surrounded by full of imaginative artists and musicians, I truly feel indescribable comfort. I don't know why. Is it because of the creative vibe? Is it because they know what they're doing instead of looking around, wandering, wondering? Is it because I feel they have their own motivation and destination? But how would I know? Would it be my own narrow-minded interpretation? One way or another, I love sitting on the corner of the cafe, hearing all these minor chatter noises, which they blend lovely with live music.

  Every humans are born with two hands. With two hands, some can play beautiful acoustic music, some can create an incredible drawings, or some can write an insightful prose.
  In the end, it's all matter of how they express their feelings, passion, ideas, and their unique view of the world. I guess I love their strong will, not being afraid of being criticized by others and willing to share despite of possible further harsh judgements.
  In a way, they are true leaders. They suggest the different way of lives, and sometimes they explore and develop the world that hasn't arrived yet.
  I believe that's why I want to be called an "artist."

Cursed or Blessed

My dad was always busy. He had to run his business, he had to make money like every fathers do in those time, he never had a time for his children.

Now I'm thinking, perhaps he didn't know how to spend time with his kids.
Children's need was taken care of mom's resources and her limit. She had to gather up her courage and gut, even she wasn't confident to stand still in front of others. Her lack of academic education was constantly bringing her down and down.

General people were hostile. They constantly judged from appearances. They compared themselves with others all the time. If they caught an outsider whom don't see like them, don't talk like them, don't dress up like them, without any remorse they chewed her/him up. They looked like simply they just couldn't handle the differences in people.

They gathered up, but only for the gossip. They only pretended to be nice, only when my dad's business was going well.

I'm really sick of those fake people. I started to hate them since I was little. Their hypocrisy made me lose my appetite. How do I all know this? Because they said everything, showed everything in my child's ears and eyes. They didn't consider a child is capable to process their doing. They often said, "You're too young. What do you know anyway?"

In general, I'm very disappointed at older generations. Their snob face, grease flowing down on their wrinkle, faded focal point, still believes their time was way better than ours. They only talk about their ol' good times, still avoid to admit their social responsibilities. Is it because they are too old now? I don't know.

Having these clear memories from the past drives me crazy. I wish I can let it go, but somehow it returns back. What should I do?


All I do is just write.

To Angry Folks.

You might think being angry makes you powerful.
You might think being snappy at others will intimidate them.
You might think shouting your uncensored words without considering others will give you a sense of being superior.
You might feel good about yourself if you keep scoring hurting others and you let it become a habit.

Well, guess what?
I pity you.
You never understood what real care is. You never try to understand what really hurts you. You are hurting others, merely because you are hurt. And you believe that gives you a right to spread your frustration.
You are angry and you just spray your stinky steam around you, so that others can smell how stinky it is.
I guess that's why you keep venting your anger toward people around you.

You might be pissed on something or a certain people. Some people in your past might curse you and made you feel miserable. You might be desperate and depressed. Whatever your reason is it doesn't allow you to dump your shit all over around. Do you think you are the only one who gets pissed in this world?
Be realistic, and realize it! Gather your dump shit and clean them up! And try to meditate what you really need to do. As you said, "I think I'm a nice person, no matter what others will think of me."

Well, it's time to show us how nice you really are. Show us who you really are instead of wasting our time and energy. If you have so much experience and if you know so well about everything, then prove it.
Until then, I'm not giving you my trust and love.

Because of you

   I don't blame you, because you gave me a birth, you gave me a life.
   After all, you gave me the biggest gift in me.

   I don't hate you, no I can't hate you, how can I?
   But you gave me an eternal scar, I hope you should have known. I was very young.

   I am holding on our happy memories but I can't escape from the creeping dark stories.
   I want to fly away and feel free from the past,
   but I still hear your misery coated with screaming and yelling.
   And I also hear my unspoken whisper.

   I hope you should have known. I wish you could have seen my eyes.
   I was scared you know, I was trembling from the fear.
   I wished I grow up fast, so I could intervene in your both horror.

   Now I have grown up. I have my own family, but why? why can't I just ignore?
   What have you done to me and my little brother? Creating the fear and terror in children's mind?

   But you are still my mother who gave me a birth and be there for me all the time,
   you are still my father who raised me strong regardless the hostile environment for you.

   Being a mom myself, I can understand a little more.
   Life must have been torturing for you both. But does it give you right to torture other lives, too?
   I don't know, I really don't know. I'm still figuring out.  
 
 
 
    

 

My unfinished thoughts on Money.

   I'm a curious soul. I'm interested in many things. I love to explore and meet new people. Also I ask a lot of questions just like my 4-year-old daughter. I can't help, and this is who I am.

   There are few major questions that I still can't get a grip and one of them is why do we have to use the numbers to measure the value of everything? Don't we love numbers? Sure, it's easy to identify, it's convenient. Perhaps that's why ancient people invented the money.

   Convenience, price adjustment, inflation, booming economy, materials, greed, wrong desire.
   No time to ask; do I really need this?

   Expensive, cheap, can't afford, then use credit card, then interest, and debt, and if you can't pay back, your life is in their hand. Your life is in their hand... Money is the artificial creation which don't have organic form like human, don't give a damn about who you really are. They only care about how much you make money, how much assets you have, how expensive place you own, how fancy automobile you drive, how much you can afford in materials...(Why, I can go on continuously with the addition to solid examples.)

   I've observed this ugly side of society since I was little, partially because my dad owned his little business and I've seen how business works. As a consequence I opened my eyes early on the dark side of the hideous invention: money.

   But don't get me wrong. Money itself doesn't do anything harm. I know this very well. With good money, you can afford healthy food than junk, you can live in a decent place in a safe neighborhood, you can educate your children in a good school. Money does good things so that your life can be prosper. It can make you rich and bring enormous joy to you.

   However, when his/her owner made wrong decision, it's going down turn, and sometimes you can't get a second chance unfortunately. But how do we know our decision is right or wrong in terms of investing our money? This is my dilemma. How can we spend our money wisely? Obviously, you don't want to waste them in a wrong place, you don't want to be a slave for money, then what's the best way of spending it?

   I foresee there will be various, individual preference on spending money criteria. I respect their opinion but it doesn't mean I agree with them all. As much they have their own priority, I have mine. And as long as I'm conscious about what I do, and willing to take responsibilities, my money will not harm me and my family.
  

The beauty of dried leaves.

Leaves falling, producing crunching, crisping sound.
It's the time to prepare for the winter.
No matter hot summer it has got, it can't escape the withdrawal of the power of nature.

Now, sitting next to the dried plants and fallen leaves, I started to wonder, aren't we the same? Aren't we getting old and wrinkled with hunched back?

The fight against of maturity is vain. If we can't escape getting older, and aged, I prefer to age gracefully. Yes, that's my wish.

Mom's diary - Monologue

   Life is not easy, my daughter.
   And I can't make it easier for you.

   Let's face it- we are given hard task since we are born.
   I have mine and you have yours. As much as I can't live your life, you can't live mine.
   We need to adjust ourselves constantly, we need to learn endlessly.
   Sometimes it bleeds our heart, it empties all the tears, and left nothing but focus-less vacant look. 
   The answer only relies on your gut and your will to survive and will to change yourself.

   As much I've been searching for my own identity,
   you will also go through these lonely journey.

   The same question that I asked thousands and millions of time-
   who am I? where do I belong?

   To tell you the truth, I'm still searching for it.
   I'm hoping to find it before I end my life and to be satisfied to leave this world.
   I still believe there's reason why we are born, and I'm convincing myself that we breathe for the good cause to the world. At least that made me think I'm worth living in this world.

   I'm living my life, not wasting.
   I'm challenging myself, not compromising.
   I've got some well-known gut, but I don't brag about.
   I value high the knowledge but it can't compete with wisdom.
   Sincerity, honesty, and being myself no matter where I am, no matter whom I'm with.

   Your heart knows if you are telling the truth or lie.
   And I'm on the truth side.
    

  

When You Believe

Many nights we've prayed

With no proof anyone could hear

In our hearts a hopeful song

We barely understood

Now we are not afraid

Although we know there's much to fear

We were moving mountains long

Before we knew we could

There can be miracles, when you believe

Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill

Who knows what miracles you can achieve

When you believe, somehow you will

You will when you believe

In this time of fear

When prayers so often prove(s) in vain

Hope seems like the summer birds

Too swiftly flown away

Yet now I'm standing here

My heart's so full I can't explain

Seeking faith and speaking words

I never thought I'd say

There can be miracles, when you believe

Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill

Who knows what miracles you can achieve

When you believe, somehow you will

You will when you believe

They don't (always happen) when you ask

And it's easy to give in to your fears

But when you're blinded by your pain

Can't see your way straight throught the rain

(A small but )still resilient voice

Says (hope is very near)

There can be miracles

When you believe

Though hope is frail

It's hard to kill

Who knows what miracles,you can achieve

When you believe, somehow you will

somehow you will

You will when you believe

You will when you

You will when you believe

Just believe...in your heart

Just believe

You will when you believe~

Mr. Beneteau

   How should I describe my feelings?
   It's not so easy to pull out into words of what I feel.
   I talk about what I know, but it's never easy to say what makes my heart thump.

   In the BookCellar at Lincoln Square,
   sitting on the corner of the place, setting up with my small Netbook and Café Mocha on my right,
   listening Mariah Carry's A Hero Lies In You through iPod,
   and gazing my passionate artist who's totally into his world.

   We are sitting on a same table, sharing same moments,
   but he and I are creating different world.

   His well-sharpened pencils skating on a piece of sketch book,
   his delicate hands busy to form the shapes of creatures,
   his clamped mouth, his sparkling eyes, even reflections on his glasses-
   are the sign of the passion.

   I never understood, or I never tried to understand what the passion is.
   What made him to stick to draw his self-portrait over three years without skipping a single day?
   What made him to throw himself into traditional art education although his profession is digital graphic?

   I was angry whenever he chose to go drawing classes on Sunday morning instead of staying and spending time with me. I was deserted and felt lonely whenever he chose to improve himself and build his art level to a strong professional foundation. His work and I became the enemy, because he always chose to spend time with it. But now I see it differently. I can confess all these because now I know better, I came to realize and understand better of his will and passion.

   Being a couple seemed easy at the beginning, but working together to establish healthy and happy family needed a great deal of sacrifice and understanding.
   I was unaware of these, I didn't know what to do. As a result, it came to close to a disaster. By meaning Disaster might not be enough to explain what I had to go through. But I'm glad the worst time is over now.
 
   Now, I talk to him differently. I understand him differently. I support him with full strength, instead of half sincerity and half disguise. Whenever something bothers me, I tell him with honesty. We trust each other and that's what the couple's about. We love each other as who we are.

 

 

True colors

Who are you, really?
Do you know who you really are?
Or do you call yourself by what others labeled on you?
Have you ever asked to yourself?

Have you dreamed about whom you wanted to be?
Are you still dreaming about same dream?
Or did you stop dreaming?

Are you afraid to keep following your dream?
Does anyone ridicule of your precious dream?
Are you stained or discouraged by their cynicism?

Don't be.
Your life is better than theirs.
Do you know why?
Because you are still trying to reach something, meanwhile others just give it up.

Your worth is made by you.
So don't give up, and look up the sky and smile.
Because you are loved by the greatest love.
Trust in yourself and believe in you.
You can do it.

*   *   *

You with the sad eyes
Don't be discouraged
Oh I realize
It's hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness inside you
Can make you feel so small

But I see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful,
Like a rainbow

Show me a smile then,
Don't be unhappy, can't remember
When I last saw you laughing
If this world makes you crazy
And you've taken all you can bear
You call me up
Because you know I'll be there

And I'll see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful,
Like a rainbow 

Children

A little human being who is delicate like tiny rose bud.
These little organic creatures are our future.

People who is living in this world and who makes major decisions -
they need to see these "little but big people" who's got great possibilities and amazing potential.

Just because children are small, just because they don't know how to articulate their minds into words,
it doesn't mean they don't know.

They see with crystal clear eyes.
They observe without prejudice.
Their mind is not corrupted yet.
They have cherishable purity and innocence.
We adult can't even mimic these natural gift.

But I started to wonder,
weren't we once children like them?

Now, we have grown up, we have job, we have cars and houses,
we have friends who follow you no matter what kind of person you are,
we have everything what we've dreamed of since we were young,
and are you happy for all these?

The more you got, the more you want.
That's what I heard from the wise.

Your creeping, toxic greed made you blur your vision.
Your vanity drove you a wrong place.
Your heart is thumping but it's only for the materials.
You use your words but it's only for filling the gaps.
What's the point of living your life?
To show off? to be fake? to hurt other lives?

Look at yourself into a mirror and realize it before it's too late.
We humans only got one chance, and our time is limited.
Cherish your life and do good!

Where is the love?

My recent request- "Where is the love??" 


"Where Is The Love?"

What's wrong with the world, mama
People livin' like they ain't got no mamas
I think the whole world addicted to the drama
Only attracted to things that'll bring you trauma
Overseas, yeah, we try to stop terrorism
But we still got terrorists here livin'
In the USA, the big CIA fightin'
The Bloods and The Crips and the KKK
But if you only have love for your own race
Then you only leave space to discriminate
And to discriminate only generates hate
And when you hate then you're bound to get irate, yeah
Madness is what you demonstrate
And that's exactly how anger works and operates
Man, you gotta have love just to set it straight
Take control of your mind and meditate
Let your soul gravitate to the love, y'all, y'all

People killin', people dyin'
Children hurt and you hear them cryin'
Can you practice what you preach
And would you turn the other cheek

Father, Father, Father help us
Send some guidance from above
'Cause people got me, got me questionin'
Where is the love (Love)



It just ain't the same, always unchanged
New days are strange, is the world insane
If love and peace is so strong
Why are there pieces of love that don't belong
Nations droppin' bombs
Chemical gasses fillin' lungs of little ones
With ongoin' sufferin' as the youth die young
So ask yourself is the lovin' really gone
So I could ask myself really what is goin' wrong
In this world that we livin' in people keep on givin' in
Makin' wrong decisions, only visions of them dividends
Not respectin' each other, deny thy brother
A war is goin' on but the reason's undercover
The truth is kept secret, it's swept under the rug
If you never know truth then you never know love
Where's the love, y'all, come on (I don't know)
Where's the truth, y'all, come on (I don't know)
Where's the love, y'all

People killin', people dyin'
Children hurt and you hear them cryin'
Can you practice what you preach
And would you turn the other cheek

Father, Father, Father help us
Send some guidance from above
'Cause people got me, got me questionin'
Where is the love (Love)


I feel the weight of the world on my shoulder
As I'm gettin' older, y'all, people gets colder
Most of us only care about money makin'
Selfishness got us followin' our wrong direction
Wrong information always shown by the media
Negative images is the main criteria
Infecting the young minds faster than bacteria
Kids wanna act like what they see in the cinema
Yo', whatever happened to the values of humanity
Whatever happened to the fairness in equality
Instead of spreading love we're spreading animosity
Lack of understanding, leading lives away from unity
That's the reason why sometimes I'm feelin' under
That's the reason why sometimes I'm feelin' down
There's no wonder why sometimes I'm feelin' under
Gotta keep my faith alive till love is found
Now ask yourself

Where is the love?
Where is the love?
Where is the love?
Where is the love?

Damaged, hurt and now what?

Polluted mind, damaged soul, crooked spirit, blinded eyes,
what are you going to do?

What are you doing here at this time?
Why! why are you doing this?

Waking up at 3:30 a.m? Are you nuts?
Wait a second, is there something bothering you? something blocking you from sound sleep?

Yes, I'm greatly disappointed.
My disappointment was somewhat forecast-ed, and I tried to ignore purposefully.

My optimistic view has cracked badly, and maybe it is what it is supposed to be. Or is it, really?
Hold on a minute! Am I stained? Holy crap! I shouldn't let it get to me. I just can't let it happen.

*   *   *

Often I realize it's impossible to keep my head up. There are so many opposite forces around me, and they push me down constantly. They know everything, all they say is I know this, I know that, of course I know this and that. Their easy assumption and prejudice makes me sick. 
I really want to shout at them, do you really UNDERSTAND what you know? If you know so well, and if you understand its meaning behind, then explain to me-
Why are you acting such a bitch? Why do you choose to be such an asshole? Why do you have to push others down so that you can stand out a little higher? Does this action make you feel better? Do you gain confidence if you crush down and trample on others? Oh, so great your self-esteem! Oh, I adore your narcissistic point of you! Oh, you are the best! Oh, what else do you wanna hear? Now, are you happy? 

I get tired of listening same old meaningless your echos. You speak, you write, you talk, and you talk a lot, it doesn't mean you know a thing! Stop talking, and stop judging and try to understand please! You don't even give an effort to try, then you'd better shut up. Don't make yourself unworthy. The more you try to push others down, the more bitter person you will be. So please stop hurting yourself by acting something terribly stupid. 

Look at yourself into a mirror, and face it. You are not perfect, nor am I. We are in a same boat, believe it or not. You just need to see it differently, and one day your will realize we were connected from the beginning.

The sound of Fall

Crunch, crunch, stepping on the pile of dried fallen leaves on the sidewalk.

A toddler walking by, and she couldn't miss the gift of nature.

Crunching softly, hopping, stomping, listening to the sound of fall.

And I wonder why do we forget the joy of simple things as we grow up?

Staring this one fallen leaf on my patio table, and ask softly - how was your life? Did you have good life with beautiful memories? Is there anything you regret? I hope you don't. 
You look so beautiful, and peaceful. Now, you make me realize our life is also like yours. 
One day, I'll depart from this life, I hope I also lay myself gracefully like you.

Untitled

   Looking for some kind of mind-blowing stuff, or mind-refreshing stuff.
   Being thirsty or dying to understand of the culture, language, child's mind, life and words.

   Restless mind, not able to shut down,
   I don't want to be entertained by simple life drama.
   I'm longing for the dramatic real life story.

   Who doesn't like Drama? No one can't resist on this.

   Trying to understand why I can't stop thinking of the stories,
   What's the purpose of me sitting in the dark in the midnight, perhaps to write?
  
   Am I really able to write my own stories?
   Will I be able to make it good?
   What about distractions? What should I do with them?
   Somehow I know the answer, but it's hard to practice it.
  
   Ignore them, Sun Hee. Show them who you really are.
   You can do it, you can do it, you did it once, why not again?
   Don't think of negativity, life is still beautiful, embrace them and try to transform it in your way.
   You are able to do this! And you will! Yes, you will!