Sorting through stuff as I attempt to remain organized, throwing out the old to make way for the new, I came across a silk scarf from Vietnam. The scar on my left foot a different kind of memento from the trip. Our past does not define us, and yet, it does contribute to our current perspective. I'm not sure what my next chapter holds, but looking through old notebooks filled with tall tales, I can only hope for more stochasticity and adventure.
Excerpt from random page of hand scrawled notes:
Monday, June 23 2008
Taipei, Taiwan
8:22 am
Is that a Picasso? from the blue period? One never knows what could be behind the next corner in Taiwan, or the door for that matter. I didn't quite know where to sit in the archaic apartment tucked up in the mountains outside the city and filled with apparent antiques of various ages. The couch was overflowing with cushions and two Russians, so I chose a throne-like chaise with gold lion heads for arms and a purple fur of dubious origin draped across the back.
What's going on?? I'd arrived at Kunyang MRT stop at 7:30 am armed only with the knowledge that I was getting picked up in order to film a tea commercial. Organic herbal tea it turned out, good for the health. "Bring sexy clothes, workout clothes, and comfy house clothes," I had been informed by the Taiwanese talent tycoon. With the Russians, the fluffy fur rugs scattered over the marble floor, and the distant location, I became mildly apprehensive that this might turn into a really bad porn.
The same mysterious lady, who had been dressed in a crushed velvet teal and turquoise dress when I'd ridden the stone camel at the audition, picked me up at the station. This time, her outfit was head to toe tan with a cream crocheted top and giant LV bag. Asians age differently than Americans, although I'd put her well into mid life. She rolled up in her white Mercedes with black tinted windows. I wasn't even sure it was her until she popped out and asked if I'd seen two other white "nuhai waiguo ren."
8:22 am
Is that a Picasso? from the blue period? One never knows what could be behind the next corner in Taiwan, or the door for that matter. I didn't quite know where to sit in the archaic apartment tucked up in the mountains outside the city and filled with apparent antiques of various ages. The couch was overflowing with cushions and two Russians, so I chose a throne-like chaise with gold lion heads for arms and a purple fur of dubious origin draped across the back.
What's going on?? I'd arrived at Kunyang MRT stop at 7:30 am armed only with the knowledge that I was getting picked up in order to film a tea commercial. Organic herbal tea it turned out, good for the health. "Bring sexy clothes, workout clothes, and comfy house clothes," I had been informed by the Taiwanese talent tycoon. With the Russians, the fluffy fur rugs scattered over the marble floor, and the distant location, I became mildly apprehensive that this might turn into a really bad porn.
The same mysterious lady, who had been dressed in a crushed velvet teal and turquoise dress when I'd ridden the stone camel at the audition, picked me up at the station. This time, her outfit was head to toe tan with a cream crocheted top and giant LV bag. Asians age differently than Americans, although I'd put her well into mid life. She rolled up in her white Mercedes with black tinted windows. I wasn't even sure it was her until she popped out and asked if I'd seen two other white "nuhai waiguo ren."
Nope, not yet.
"The art of living is based on rhythm — on give and take, ebb and flow, light and dark, life and death. By acceptance of all aspects of life, good and bad, right and wrong, yours and mine, the static, defensive life, which is what most people are cursed with, is converted into a dance, ‘the dance of life,’ metamorphosis. One can dance to sorrow or to joy; one can even dance abstractly. … But the point is that, by the mere act of dancing, the elements which compose it are transformed; the dance is an end in itself, just like life."
- Henry Miller
Just laugh.
Just laugh.
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