Wanting More

I’m sitting in a hostel room on Jeju Island, after having extended my trip to travel to Korea. I’m feeling so many threads pulling at me. Mostly just a lot of emotions. I’m missing someone in my life a lot right now. And everything I see reminds me of them, it goes back to them. It’s a hard feeling to get rid of. It’s like everything is tied to that feeling of love and being seen, and all the experiences I seek out are just a cover for that desire. It was so long ago, that feeling of the screen cracking and no longer feeling like a spectator to my own existence. Being called out, being observed, being cared for deeply. I was willing to give up so much, let so much slide, just to hold on to that singular feeling. And it’s like… when will I allow myself to be seen like that again? There’s an invisible one sided smoke screen between me and the world right now, I think. I’m allowing myself to simply be, not really caring about what’s coming back. I guess it’s liberating. Treating the world like it was that person. Taking my love out of that one basket and tossing it into the atmosphere with a flick of my wrist.

I want to create. I want to make music and art. it was a rainy day in Kyoto, I was recovering from a low grade fever. I filled myself with hot soup and cough drops and forced myself to go to this small Japanese-style painting workshop. I walked twenty minutes in the rain, and sat there for almost three hours, absorbing myself in that moment.

It’s been so long since I just allowed myself to create and exist. I’m so used to being apprehensive, delighting in that apprehension, holding back to enjoy later. But breathing today, every little thing, every moment and every ounce of ordinary. Walking to the store in the morning. Feeling the sun. A cassis oolong. Getting lost in a book. Listening to feel-good indie folk. Really fresh kimbap coated in fried egg. Surfing, every hour of every day bringing with it a slightly different wave. Sea life and disorganized organic beauty. The rawness and tenderness of being perceived, of being free from that ideal self. Watching people who are utterly free. Holding someone’s hand. Walking in a meadow near the black rock beaches off the coast of Jeju with a friend whom I dearly love. Art museums. Things I cannot quantify. Fashion. Weddings. People who genuinely love each other and delight in existence. Hot drink on a cold day. Bitter drink with a sweet treat. Sparkling music.

All the wonderful places I’ve traveled in the last year, Colorado, San Francisco, Montreal, Toronto, Alaska, Japan, Korea, Seattle, Miami, New York. And all the wonderful places I am yet to visit.