Thursday, February 26, 2015

Update: Last Two Months

Update on the last two months (numbered!) by the things I've been into/done. Enjoy!

1. Big Phony



This is definitely number one. I found this guy in my first week here while I was watching the Dan Adoption Documentary (totally worth it, if you're interested in the story of a Korean adoptee). I went through most of the songs on Big Phony's album "Bobby" on bandcamp before I even looked him up. His songs have a great acoustic/simple/stripped down/ indie quality to them that reminds me of The Paper Kites or Damien Rice. Since the guitar is one of my favorite instruments and Big Phony has nice, calming vocals, the contemplative and sad lyrics sealed the deal for me to fall in love. His bandcamp was bookmarked on my tablet simply because I went to it so much for that week.
Since I am pretty darn picky (and I guess super judgmental) I was certain the guy behind the addictive music couldn't be handsome.
But, after taking off his signature brown paper bag, the man is gorgeous, guys.
True beauty stands before you, cheap guitar in hand.
I've read most interviews and found him to be a rather charming enigma, but in true NF fashion he claims that he will never date a girl who has seen his stage persona first because that just isn't him. But I can get over the fact that he's deemed me undateable to my face, because the chance that I'd ever meet this amazing person outside of a concert environment is pretty low. Anyway, he succeeded in getting me to watch the raunchiest comedy I've ever seen-he was one of the actors in K-Town Cowboys, a web miniseries on YouTube from 2010. His character had a more minor role, due to the fact that he was basically playing himself. His interview with Danny Cho pretty much explains this character in the show: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tod81zEBRUY
"...you don't first look at her personality..."
"...I do." Gosh. <333>
My first week of school flew by because of this guy. I was wrapped up in some kind of desperation and intrigue, the kind that Nae Il gets in Tomorrow Cantabile when she first hears Yoo Jin play that piano piece (okay, maybe not so dramatic). I listened to so much of his music and spent so much of my time. Ah, my life. But, I'm so glad I found this guy, so oh well. =P
For less fangirly information, check out his bandcamp at http://bigphony.bandcamp.com/ and check out some interviews. He's a really talented guy.

2. Hogu's Love

This awesome K-drama is eating up my life. Probably somewhere in the strain of my recent raunchy comedy adventure, I am willing to admit that this somewhat off-color TVN drama is actually incredibly good so far (I'm on episode 5). It is Korean in the same way that Coffee Prince is Korean- kimchi-flavored, side-street framed, dialect-filled, and, reluctantly, motel-visiting comedy nonsense mixed with moments of some very honest social and political exploration and commentary.

3. Sanctuary



This is my most recent writing endeavor! I posted about it earlier. The story is about one man reflecting on his first (and unrequited) love, which occurred many years ago. I'm finding it hard to focus on anything other than this writing, and then I feel like I'm not doing the work any justice and know I'm going to have to edit it like crazy. Apart from that, I feel like it's a very nostalgic story, perhaps even tinged with coming-of age themes, and filled with feelings of desire, hopelessness, directionless searching, deep commitment, bitterness, and apathetic contentment. Sounds so dramatic, eh?

4. Snow

There has been so. much. snow. I didn't think that my new city would get any snow since it is in a valley and the weather here is rather mild in my opinion, but apparently February-March are it's snow months. It even snowed on Valentine's Day, which was rather magical. *-*

5. School

I am so. very. behind. U.U I've given up keeping up on readings in at least one of my classes. This school is HARD, and I believe it. As such, I lack the inspiration/desire/willingness to lose sleep to get better grades (and keep up on readings in classes about lousy overly liberal and progressive political ideologies).

6. Fox Spirits

I did a paper on fox spirits for my final research paper project in Chinese Literature in Translation. It was the longest paper I have ever written, 12 pages total, but worth it in the end. I made an A in that class.....*wistful gaze at the horizon* goodbye, my stomping grounds of unbiased ancient literature....
Ahem, anyway, fox spirits. I did most of my research on how fox spirit stereotypes were often broken in ancient Chinese literature, and this of course lead me into the realm of male fox spirits. I've been fascinated with the creatures ever since I saw My Girlfriend is a Gumiho, and so the various pieces I found on male fox spirits intrigued me greatly. As a result, I'm somewhat inspired to do something story-wise related to them, but I lack the time to do it right now.

7. Spotify

I got Spotify in December, and though it's great for artists like Prince, whose tracks you cannot find elsewhere, it's been a bit of a letdown when it comes to finding new music. I've discovered, sure, but I find that their genre-oriented playlists just leave me feeling like I have just listened to hours of the same song, and the repetitive appearance of certain popular songs make me feel like I'm listening to the radio-great for some moods, bad for others. I do rather like the ease of use for the playlist option, which also eliminates the pain of too much similar-genre content.

8. This interview:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PbEvCxWiJ3A

Onew is so precious. <333 br="">

And that's about it for this update! I could ramble on further but I think I have exhausted you all enough. =P

-A.K.-

Monday, February 23, 2015

Writing about first love...{Sanctuary}

First love smells like chestnut blossoms. It tastes like mint chocolate chip ice cream. It sounds acoustic. When the sun sets, it's in vivid orange, and when midnight comes, the moon is silver. That's first love.

So lately, my over ambitious creativity has lead me to, among other things, begin writing a short story. Yes, thankfully not a novel. I have too many projects I never finished to start (and not properly finish) another one. The plot of said short story operates on one thing: memory of first love, so I titled it "Sanctuary".
I find the writing of it to be incredibly cathartic. I think everyone who has experienced any form of heartbreak remembers first love with an accuracy other memories lack. The story itself is a memory, as recounted by the main character. I enjoy getting to switch tenses instead of POV, and emphasizing the contrast between his previous self and the now is a welcome challenge. I'm not exactly sure how to write it; I started with something of a thoughtful and quiet winter scene with a lot of thoughts interspersed, but have grown tired of the energy that required of me. I'm not sure where it's going now. In my mind, I have an outline that resembles nothing more than a skeleton sketch of pale, gray lines. That outline must be filled with my own ideas and perspectives.
Slowly, I can sense that my own first love experience is bleeding into his, and it keeps bringing out the old memories. So I have tracks from years ago in my Spotify playlist and plenty of inspiration just waiting for me whenever I need it, I suppose.

-A.K.-

Sunday, February 8, 2015

Landing in Incheon

The white, silent moon has grown bleak,
Half of a focal stone in the burning red crown
Of the horizon's slow transformation,

We descend into the cloud bank, foreboding,
Windows suddenly dripping with condensation
For an instant, I mistake the wing beacons for lightning

I feel my pulse quickening in fear and elation
Do not others feel trapped in this halfway emotion?
Shaken, this new world takes hold of me again

The warm, thick fog deceptively swirls about us
When I leave this casement, what should I do?
Instantly at peace, yet still at war with myself 

The landing, how I embrace it, over and over
Deep inside my being, recalled more clearly than first love,
Some form of reawakening, some rebirth, must surely exist there.

-Argentia Krystofel

Grandmother Said

"Find yourself a good ole American boy,
With bright young eyes and nice hair,
Who is tall and broad-shouldered,
Believes in the Lord and would never swear."

These are the words my grandmother says
In an effort to control all which she can
Her personality flaws glaring with every word
As she tries to find me her perfect man

Every mistake she made when she was young
Reiterated each time I made mention of you
"That blood is bad, mean as a stripe-ed snake,
That man will leave you up and out of the blue,"

I could shoot back pretty words, elaborate poetry,
"I believe in true love, I believe he's a good man, just you wait,"
The usual "well, you'll see" echoed in my mind,
Critique morphs into doubt, and left me in a broken state,

Irony is it's own form of justice, though heartless,
"He'll leave you for one of his own, trust me, you'll see,"
I can picture her pretty eyes, small face, and dark hair,
Faith shattered, and he was saying "you don't know me,"

One bad day will not ruin my whole life,
I'm not that woman who crashed her chariot of dreams,
Over a single rut in the road of life's journey
No turning back for broken hearts, no matter how sad it seems,

Regrets are always lined with hope
And there are things taught by lost love,
But I know all grandmother said isn't true,
Instead, in dark times, I pray this to God above:

"I want a respectful, adventuresome boy,
With sparkling dark eyes and a creative mind,
No concern for height if he's sincere,
Believes in Your promise, is both faithful and kind."


-A.K.
















Wednesday, February 4, 2015

When I Was Your Age

I believe in the calm, cool gray
The morning sun blocked by cloud cover
You, sleeping soundly, never any blankets
Fearing warmth, hating the cold
Somehow I can behold your blissful existence
Lost in your quiet dreaming,
"When I was your age..." is repeated.

-Argentia Krystofel

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Preoccupations



Your eyes, in their own passionate way,
Grasping for something, I am not sure why,
Oh, how those eyes gaze so intently,
Who hurt you? Who hurt you?

Among the buzz of conversation, across the airwaves,
Through the space, so full, yet so very empty,
You have seen all, it is realized, though your eyes unrevealing,
Who hurt you? Who hurt you?

In our lives, we have various connections
Formed much like the lines drawn by the ancients
Stories made of the numerous, random points in our vast, dark sky
Who hurt you? Who hurt you?

In your boundless kindness, you make pictures,
Stories are written, legends arise, hearts believe
And sometimes they break.
…who hurt you?