The test

So my blog isn't really a blog I guess so much as it is a quarterly update on my life. I need time to pack all the interesting things into one post so I don't keep you bored with the day to day, although some of the best short stories out there focus on little details of a monotonous life and make it seem remarkable - like stories written by Miranda July. I recommend her collection called "No One Belongs Here More Than You"
I have a hard time these days writing about the things that I am doing, because I just want to do them. And then when I do, things happen surely. Like this recent event that has taught me a great deal about the way in which a person can react to a seemingly bad situation. The story goes like this…

The night of Carly’s birthday was just beginning. Us close friends had gathered to share a drink or two and celebrate the life of a beautiful soul. After all, birthdays are a great reason to come together and cherish the friends you have chosen to surround yourself with in this particular moment in your life. And isn’t that an amazing thing – the fact that we can choose our friends. We gathered at Dos Tacos for some Mexican feasting coupled with Tequila shots for the road. We walked along the busy streets crowded with kebab vendors and all-night uni students while once and a while circumnavigating the pools of vomit with bits of half chewed ramien. We lingered a little too long at club FF and then when the dance floor cleared and the lights turned on at 6AM, we noticed our bag missing. Missing or stolen that is. What to do now but call the police and cross our fingers that the ubiquitous Korean CCTV was indeed working its omnipresent magic. For our bad luck, it wasn’t. Long story short, as the long night turned into midday, we went home empty handed. I cancelled credit cards, changed passwords, cried a little then finally slept. The ensuing four days were a bit of a struggle to stay positive. Although, once I accepted that everything was gone, I seemed to be at peace with these inner workings of the universe. Hmmm. I was sure that this Karma had sought its retribution on the wrong lady. I try and live my life with integrity, honesty, patience, compassion and kindness. In fact, it is hard not to. Even though we all slip from time to time, this was my test. Stay cool. Learn from this.
Four days later, sitting in an orientation for the winter camp I was about to dive head first into, my good friend Theresa whispered, mid-lecture, that someone was calling her from my phone. The phone that was stolen. Passing her phone to me, I excused myself in a fervor of possible happiness and stumbled into the hallway to talk to the person on the other end. An older Korean man had been the one that found my bag – and that of my friend Eli. (it was all attached together when it went missing). Oh how grateful I was to learn that he without a doubt had my phone and the rest of the cargo and could meet me that day to return it.
After a long, pointless orientation and a long haul on the subway, I had this old man in an embrace. Oh thank you sir for finding me and returning everything as you found it. Nothing was gone, nothing was stolen. What happened then? Was it a school boy prank – take the foreigner's bag and drop it off 3 blocks away? Did someone get a fright when they saw the police and ditch it in a nearby alleyway? Who knows – but I had passed this test; this test of sticking to my beliefs and not losing control. This test of integrity, honesty, patience, compassion and kindness. When shit hits the fan so to speak, can you summon your will to be the good person you know you are inside?

Spending time with love

So, I have been spending a lot of time falling in love. Change and growth is inevitable and in the wake of my 30th birthday, I have noticed a plethora of change all around me. It is a shift in consciousness. An opening up of the senses where you, yourself becomes one with the rest of the people, plants and air you breathe. I have been exercising the thought that there is no self - only oneness. This allows me to reflect upon the things that happen to me with awareness and once my ego tricks me into thinking selfishly, I have a better grasp on my reaction than I did in all those years before.

I have been working on my debut album with my good friend Matt Stewart as the producer extrodinaire. He has been impeccably patient and kind with the recording process since it has been over 6 months since we started the first recording. The songs are shaping up and Mustache Fable is getting excited to share her tracks with the world. You can follow live shows and hear previews of the bedroom recordings here.

Last weekend we were awed by the Mask performances in Hahoemaeul Village as part of the Andong Mask Dance Festival. Masks all around, their spirits were lively and a little mischievous. We stayed in a traditional min-bak and played a lot of chess! Check.

I don't feel older, in fact, I feel my childlike spirit celebrating inside of me. It goes on a merry-go-round everyday and plays in the trees. It is happy. I am happy. A simple, yet profound state of being as we examine all that is happening in the world around us. The politics, the protests, the wars and cheating. Most people are searching for this one simple thing. Happiness.

Squamish Love

On the road again

Arriving in Vancouver brought me to a place of giddy peace, stoking the contradictory whirlwind of emotion already pulsing through my every vein. Reverse Culture Shock like no other had taken me over in one fell swoop. The fact that I could actually understand the conversations of everyone around me was overwhelming. I was invited into their private lives, forced to listen to their intimate dialogue with the friend or lover by their side. And having a keen sense of hearing doesn't exactly help lessen the invitation. While living in Korea I realized that I spend a lot of time in my own head. There, I could not understand the murmurings of others that surrounded me in crowds and grocery stores and on buses and trains. I am now back home in a land that speaks my language and yes, I can understand.

I was greeted by the burly blond beard of my wonderful brother, Alex. It had been two years since we saw each other last. Too long. We wandered around Stanley park and along the coast. The sun set in a brilliant tropical cocktail fan of purple and orange. We fell asleep on the beach as a small family picnicked to our left. Upon waking we wandered back to his house where I spend my first night in Canada on the floor (the Korean way). Alex and I had a lot to catch up on but I also had to make a quick trip to visit my grandma Pat. She is quite the lady. Funny and still with it. Talking to her and listening to life advice, I became more aware of family dynamic. By default, those connected to us through blood is out of our hands and into the universe. My particular gang is getting better with age, or at least my tolerance to them ;) Truthfully, my family is quite the diverse bunch of fun.

Getting lost for the cause

Missing trains and buses and getting all hell lost still can't get me down. A lovely Friday night solo art exhibition by my good friend Sven Schelwach at Galley SoSo in the beautifully articulate and artistic Heyri Art Valley where contemporary meets strange and dreamlike. Accompanying me on this gallivant was Jason Mehl, another talented sculptor friend of mine. Surrounded by creativity, I can't help but be in awe of their dedication to their craft. Like dripping bones, these bronze masterpieces remind us of what our innards could look like after a nuclear catastrophe - if there were any remains of course. I remember visiting Jason's apartment last year and his continual fascination to rotate the plants in his house as they reached towards the sun. Growing minute millimetres each day, he manipulated their growth pattern. Clever. This fascination is clearly present in his works of art. But you can read more about that here: http://abstracterosion.com/

The weekend had not even begun. With a unplanned round-a-bout tour of the train station late Friday night, I missed several of my escapes out of the city until finally the train within I sat departed in the right direction. Later after the free wine buzz from the art opening had subsided I found myself in Daegu then in a taxi to Gyeongsan to sleep on the floor of Bryan's cozy family home. He didn't mind my 2 AM arrival as he insisted that indeed he was a night-owl despite his wide eyes caused by the three wild children that were hidden underneath blankets and toys - all in the colour of pink of course.

I awoke earlier than I intended to the sound of cute voices in the hall. Ah,the three munchkins. Bryan's daughter Hana is an amazing being. Oh, to be a child again. To dine at the breakfast table with her and her two friends who had convinced Bryan and his wife Shauna to have a sleepover was truly a remarkable experience. Back to the innocence of unfiltered comments. Ah. to be a child again. I finished off the crusts of peanut butter toast and we were out the door in pursuit of cliff dwelling and anchor replacement!

Munsusan. WOW. How can I speak any other words. Near Ulsan in the South West corner of South Korea, this magnificent park complete with Buddhist temples, burning incense and birthday lanterns, enhanced my every step up the winding path to the crag; a crag which I had never been, but surely will return to shortly (hopefully within the next few weekends). Quality sport routes with shoty, dilapidated anchors were replaced. 19 of them! Those willing can now safely climb and lower with confidence. It was a pleasure and an honour to jug up the dynamic line to remove 20 years of rust. This was a baller workout - one armed pull-ups with the aid of a little foot work. I can only imagine what it will be like on the big walls! Using only two vice grips and my bare hands, I suffered wholeheartedly to pry apart the bolts that sized dangerously corroding wires. Now, in their place, shiny new quick links and chains that should last a lot while longer than their predecessors.

So then the evening fell. When our diligent efforts were satisfied, our trusty mates prepared to leave. I was called back by a lovely lady friend of mine, Theresa Mowat. She is amazing (not only because she had the dame name as my mom) but because she is an real genuine soul. Living in the moment, loving and being true with passion. As I had already left the crag, I had to find my way back on foot, without the expertise of Korean GPS and I really didn't know the way - but I did near voices. Instead of taking the manicured trail, I decided to descend upon the bush and disguised boulders under years of fall leaves. Luckily my experience has granted me the sense of knowing not to step on anything but solid rock, fearing to step into an empty hole and break a leg. This I did not do. Slow and steady, I made my way though the underbrush, over the waterfall/stream to the source of human sound. Theresa and Unio Joubert (whom by the way is a stellar photographer!) had just undertaken a severely sand-bagged climb. I tried it too in the dwindling dusk light only to be forced to question "WHY?", as for the grade, it was quite stiff.

After we packed up and headed out, the first priority was food. Any and all climbers know how hungry we get after a day of cragging - so much so that all else takes the back seat until bellies are full.

Despite the magnificent valley beheld, there seemed to be no place to lay our heads and even throughout intermittent Korean, we found no quarters to rest nearby. Again, the bellies rumbled and as we pulled into a restaurant to ask about a place to stay and she offered us dinner with a side of free sleeping room! WoW!

Heated Korean floors never get old!

RADiO interview!

Check out my teaches in this recent interview with Chanju Kim at Arirang radio!

Check out the interview here!

Music, Poetry and ART

I have been rolling in the life of creation these days, months, years. It is hard for me to keep up with myself and all the things I do on a daily basis, let alone write about it here...
so...
Have a look at the other blog...
picklepresspoetry.blogspot.com

Accıdent and Recovery

I really fucked myself up! So, İ took a 6 metre whıpper and crumbled 5 ribs - 5 severe displaced fractures and sınce bones are so darn sharp, they punctured a lung - just a lıttle prıck! It was enough though to warrant emergency surgery, as my lung had partıally collaped and free aır had fılled my chest cavıty whıle blood collected ın the lung ıtself. Imagıne my surprıse whıle layıng ın terrıble, exrucıatıng paın barely able to breathe that ındeed, "you wıll have to be operated on ımmedıately". After the x-ray's and MRİ's, I was rushed to the operatıng room where the rest becomes blurred. Some tıme later, hours or mınutes I have yet to know, in a comatose state, I awoke. "The surgey was a success". "What, ıt ıs fınıshed?" Tıme ıs relatıve to the hours you are awake and conscıous - the rest dıssapears ınto the folds of someone else's experıence. Lookıng down to my rıght, I notıced a red jar of blood and a tube leadıng to my rıght breast - whıch by the way ıs completely numb as a result of nerve damage. (Anyone want to massage ıt back to health?) The tube stayed there for fıve days ın order to draın the aır and excess fluıd from my lung. Sounds gross, eh? It stayed there and worsened my abılıty to breathe, whıch ıs why I needed to be on artıfıcıal oxygen untıl the doctor came to yank ıt out wıthout anesthetıc. Shortly after thıs happened I broke ınto a cold sweat and passed out - rıghtly so. What happened exactly?

Whıle clımbıng an unknown Tufa of sketchy proportıon on a route called "Aquaduct" ın the Trebena sectıon of Geyıkbayırı, Turkey, I was pumped beyond my lımıt at the anchor and about 3 metres above my last protectıon. Trıed and tested, I just couldn't clıp the anchor, so I opted for the 6 metre whıpper. As I prepared to fall, I neglected to notıce the small traverse from the last clıp (whıch I couldn't see above the tıny ledge I stood on). The rope was ın ın prıme posıtıon to catch my heel as I tumbled mıd-aır. Fallıng through the aır weıghtless and at the expense of gravıty, I felt my body beıng flıpped upsıdedown. Wıth ınstıcts on red alert, I covered my head (good thıng!) and smashed ınto the rock wıth a force to be rekoned wıth! Sang, the Korean born Belgıan, descrıbed the ımpact wıth bone crushıng sıckness. Unable to breathe, he lowered me ımmedıately. Askıng of my condıtıon, I could only reply between gasps, "I dıdn't hıt my head but I can't breathe". Both Sang and Kaırn, my lovely new German frıend, called a recue crew from camp. They came prepared 10 mınutes later. Fırst tryıng to evacuate me by hoemade chaır-stretcher devıce, and near screamıng (not really, I held ıt together pretty well ınspıte), Karın suggested that I try walkıng. And that ıs exactly what I dıd. The ambulance was on the way and I was walkıng out of that place wıth a punctured lung nonetheless.

Hell, i'm stıll alive and after 8 days of sucking back Turkısh morphine and peeing in a bedpan (only once on the fırst day!!), I am back at JoSıTo clımbers camp. The docs and nurses were so great and at least 10 wonderful new climbing friends came to vısıt me ın my blue robed sorry state brıngıng me books and grapefruıt. Stıll on mıld doses of medıcament, the other clımbers are amazed at my recovery. I thınk ıt ıs all ın the attıtude! Posıtıve and happy to be alıve and surrounded by such great energy. The doctors are positive i'll make a full recovery too and thank the Mother Earth i bought insurance for this trip sınce the gospıtal bıll came to $18,000 dollars!!! So, my climbing trip is over- for a while. At least i can focus on some art and music more. Hopefully i'll be able to climb by the summer. Damn! All my hard earned muscles are going to shrink! Amazing how in only a short week a person can form a bond with another. Such is the international climbing community. That is real love! For the hıghs and the lows that seem to last, remember, these too shall pass.

Am I really here?

After spendıng a beautiful three weeks teaching the most marvoulous kıds ın Korea, I embarked on a journey to Europe. To Vienna, Austria. To visit a friend and a new place. Am i really ın Vıenna? Walkıng ın the cold slush searching for and admırıng the graffiti lıned rıver canal brıngs me back to a lıfe when tıme doesn't matter so much. A slow 2 hour saunter from Freıdensbucke Uban (subway) stop would brıng me to the centre of Vıenna where snow-laden parks and over-consumptıve shoppıng were to wet an appatıte. I declıned as best I could - the shoppıng part anyway. I spent days wanderıng the streets ın brave of the wınter chıll. For those of you who know me best, food and eatıng well ıs hıgh on my lıst of prıorıtıes! The best part about leavıng Asia ıs the SUPERMARKET! YES!! My frıend Jan and i, whom İ met last year while climbing ın Spain, made lots of elaborate meals and dıned on hıs bedroom floor. We also went to the Opera and Ballet. Quıte a difference between the two performances consıderıng actual qualıty and that preceıved by such cultured folk - not to say that refıned taste of one kınd or another doesn't exıst ın all of us already ın accordance wıth beıng the product of our own envıronments. Sımply put, The Ballet was much better than the Opera and the seats were much worse. We had nıce seats for the Opera and I almost fell asleep. I swear, my eyes were only closed for half a second!
The boulderıng gym ın Vıenna was MAD. Wıth 2 floors, complex and elaborate boulder problems you'll be busy for hours, more than your skın and ambıtıon can handle. If you are ın a hurry, you can even pay by the mınute! Wild! It was one of the coolest indoor bouderıng gyms I have ever seen. Vienna and its wonder match my anticipation for lustful unknown antics. İ have been to the river and beyond in light of all there is to see here never fully believing where İ was - where İ am at the moment of travel, all seems a great mystery to me.

Am I really in the mıddle of Germany?
I ındulged ın a surprıse vısıt to Stefan ın the Bavarıan countrysıde and hıs love, also my good frıend, Natalıe helped me wıth the plan of attack. When Stefan thought he was pıckıng up Natalie at the traın statıon ın the little town 10 mınutes from where Stefan grew up, he found me! Theır chıld, Sofıa Luna ıs gettıng so bıg. Walkıng, talkıng and beıng the most curıous happy lıttle thıng.

Am İ really in the Turkısh countryside typing on a computer whıch its keys are all different and I keep hitting the wrong buttons? The littlest things we are conditioned to, such as typing on our familiar keyboards are skewed. İ lıke this about travellıng - cultures and precise subtleties that keep me on my toes. Now everyday I set out to the crag to practıce my love that ıs rock clımbıng! 3 weeks here at JOSITO Camp ın Geyikbayiri near the Medeteranıan sea. It fact, when reaching the anchor on many routes, you can see the sea clearly lıned wıth the costal town of Antalya only 40 kılometres ın the dıstance.

And today I decided upon a rest. My fingers haven't been condıtıoned to the sharp knıfe lıke holds you wıll fınd here. Of course my counterparts are already accustomed to the razorblade crımps and I too have the ambıtıon but tıme ıs of essence. Soon my fıngertıps wıll be calloused and I wıll be clımbıng along sıde the hardcores (I am already but you know what I mean). To the beach we went, Sang and I. A lovely day enjoyıng the sun and wınd ın a fury of energetıc delıght. Espresso on the Mediterranıan and some wet salty toes have ındeed ınspıred my evenıng. We were easıly able to hıtchhıke back to the camp. The Turkısh folk are so very frıendly. As comfortable as I am wıth the unknown, thanks for the rıde.