Oct-Dec 2020 "Comfort Me by Being Comforted"

What I'm Up To

Gave myself a blogging break this past semester because these posts take more than a day to complete, and I wasn't interested in adding undue stress. I also had to spend time writing for NOVAsia, my grad school's magazine. This semester I published 2 articles, one about the relationship between K-pop and the Black Lives Matter movement, and one about Korea's "slow" consumption. I also participated in 2 podcasts covering the US presidential election and discussing Navajo culture with an exchange student from the Navajo nation. (I'm a novice so be kind in your criticisms, please.) I have another article about COVID-inspired street art that's currently going through its first round of editing, and I'll add a link🔗 once it's complete. 😄 If you're interested, I do hope you'll take a look! (Link now added!)

Let's see, what else? 

One of the artists that inspired my article goes by the alias, Mr. Tongue. After noticing more than a dozen cartoonish tongues gracing the city walls, I became curious about the artist and found his Instagram page. Through it, I learned of Mr. Tongue's upcoming exhibition, held the last two months of 2020. My curiosity and desire to leave my room pushed me out of my comfort zone enough to attend. When I arrived Mr. Tongue was actually there, and we got to chat for a bit before I left to wander the outdoor exhibition. (Still no idea what he looks like since Mr. Tongue covered his face with a mask, hat, and dark sunglasses to hide his identity. His work's not exactly legal.) I had fun looking around and experiencing an art scene I'm still pretty clueless about, and it was nice to focus on something besides the news, corona, or homework. Mr. Tongue's paintings allow for interaction between the playful and the serious, as seen in such works as "We are all the same," below, in which a looney-tunes character holds a BLM sign. I often feel I must forgo fun to focus on "adult" things but the world has the capacity and the necessity for both. I was glad for the reminder to play. 

Now, whenever I see a tongue on Seoul's walls I feel like I'm in on some secret. I'm aware of this community working outside rules and regulations to express themselves. Seeing their creations certainly makes this season a bit less lonely. 

One of the stickers Mr. Tongue gave out on the last day of the exhibition.

A mural titled "Pink Skies"

The mural "We are all the same," from Mr. Tongue's "Self-Care" exhibition.

I liked the way this painting complimented the setting.

I also began knitting again. This past semester included one course where we did a lot of story-telling without much need for note-taking. To keep my hands busy during the three-hour online class I began a blanket. (Unfortunately, the company stopped making the yarn I used so I haven't finished yet. I'm thinking I'll unravel a bit and alternate between two colors.) In the meantime, I finished a scarf that's super long and heavy and warm and I love it!

What I'm Reading

• An excerpt from Comfort Animal by Joy Ladin (full poem at www.poetryfoundation.org)

• Joy Ladin is a poet and professor at Yeshiva University. I only recently discovered her resonating work.

A voice says, “Your punishment has ended.”
You never listen to that voice. You really suck
at being comforted.

Another voice says, “Cry.”
That voice always gets your attention,
keeps you thinking

....

Mine is the voice that decrees—

that begs—your anguish to end.

When you suffer, I suffer.

Comfort me

by being comforted.

• My Words

We've all been here. A thousand times before.

If  I understand the haiku writer I was the haiku writer and if you understand the scholar then you were the scholar and nothing has changed. The poor you will always have with you. The righteous you will always have with you. The poets you will always have with you. The ideologues you will always have with you.

• Midnight Sun by Stephanie Meyer

• Twilight, but from the love interest's perspective. I bought this because I have a mind to redeem this series I loved so fiercely as a teenager. When the first movie came out in 2008 everyone formed an opinion on the series and made me feel like an idiot for liking the books, so I began to avoid them, but I'm tired of being ashamed of a story I really loved. There's a reason I and so many others loved it, and some may always attest that reason to impressionable young women lusting after a twisted relationship. I think it speaks more towards longing to receive a deep and complete love from someone seemingly too wonderful to receive such love from. Also, exploring the moral turmoil of someone who hates his naturally violent existence (he's a vampire, in case you didn't know) and only finds joy when he's with someone he could easily endanger makes for an interesting thought exercise. Anyway, I feel I've finally found a way to unburden my past self from the shame of liking Twilight.
• 
  
  

What I'm Listening to

• Wet Umbrella and This Night by Rad Museum
• In this trance-like music video, Rad Museum introduces his newest two songs, both released December 2020. Water, religion, and surrealism play large roles in this MV's visuals, and the tone feels melancholy and sometimes dissonant. The lyrics communicate a loneliness that stems from otherness, from feeling unable to lead a life like others.
• Religion often influences Rad Museum's artistry. A scene in the MV parrots Michelangelo's Pietà, and the musician's 2017 album cover displayed the verse Romans 8:18, "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us." I'm not sure what role religion plays in Rad Museum's personal life, but the presence of faith matters in his music resonates with me.
• Rad Museum's YouTube channel contains a fantastic live version of his most popular song, Dancing in the Rain. The song has the same dreamlike quality as Wet Umbrella and This Night.

"Over the blue fence 

Towards the sky.. jump

Spread your wings and turn

In rain or shine

We just dancing in the rain"

• Zombie by Day6
• This song deals with the drudgery of a nonlife, going through daily activities in a daze with the only thing to look forward to the oblivion of sleep. Zombie resonates with many fans who see their own lives reflected in the lyrics. 
• The pandemic has confined most individuals to home activities, and after a while, the days can blur together. Those who spend these monotonous days just waiting for the virus to end may also find their activities losing life and joy. This song reminds them they are not alone.

"I feel like I became a zombie

With an empty head and an empty heart

A scarecrow without any thoughts

Since when did I become like this? Oh why

I became a zombie

I walk on, drifting aimlessly

Tomorrow will be no different

I live just waiting until I can fall asleep" 

They have English captions for this video, but for those interested Day6 also made an entirely English version of Zombie.

• Amplify Korea Podcast
• A branch of Angle Magazine, a publication covering Korea's independent art scenes, the Amplify podcast includes music from Korea's unique musicians. It's a great resource for anyone looking to tread new artistic paths this year!
• Podcast Episodes on Angle Magazine
• Instagram

What I'm Watching

• Feel the Rhythm of KOREA
• Get ready for some super fun Korea tourism videos, featuring modern-style pansori from the band LEENALCHI and eccentric dancing from the Ambiguous Dance Company. These three videos have garnered between 35-39 mil views and stayed on YouTube Korea's popular page for quite some time. You'll find your mood instantly lifted watching these dancers show their stuff around Korea's historic sites and beautiful landscapes.

• Gangnam, South Korea At Night Under Covid Social Distancing Level 2
• The YouTube channel, AsianBoss, has a new series taking viewers for walks around various Asian cities during COVID restrictions. Veuyeouristic at times (such as the first 6 minutes when the camera operator follows a guy with a backpack and later passes a woman crying by the street), many viewers found the video a great source of virtual travel.
• 
  
• My Love From Another Star
• This 2013 drama resembles our beloved Twilight, only the female character's a famous actress and the male protagonist a creature from another planet, rather than a creature of the night. (I recently finished this series for the second time, after finding it newly available on Netflix. I also needed a comfort show to break up study sessions.) The drama was incredibly popular when it first came out, and allegedly started the chimaek trend, or chicken and beer trend, a now permanent edition to Korean food culture.
• Below, the trailer. Turn on closed captioning for the English translation.
  

What I'm Writing-Korean hip hop is Korean hip hop

• Two partners and I carried out a research project about cultural appropriation in Korean hip hop music. We interviewed three artists (not all hip hop though, it was hard to get interviewees) and we interviewed one producer, but since they all had experience working with music that originated with other ethnic groups, we called it good.
• Many non-Koreans argue artists lack awareness of African American's grim history (and present), and so don't understand the severity of appropriations, but our project showed the presence of cultural appropriation in Korean music is more complicated than that. One aspect of cultural appropriation includes powerful cultures adopting symbols from other, less powerful cultures, and some artists argue they don't fit this definition. They cite Korea's own history of foreign invasion and racial discrimination. These hardships arguably place Koreans in a similar category as exploited black communities around the world, and therefore Korean hip hop artists should not be equated with individuals engaging in cultural exploitation. I argue young audiences who accuse Korean artists of cultural appropriation don't see Korea as a victimized nation, but rather an economic and cultural powerhouse whose artists freely make use of less powerful cultures' heritages. This difference in viewpoint might explain (in part) the discrepancy between domestic artists' and global audiences' understanding of Korean hip hop and cultural appropriation. (Neither of these reflects my own view, by the way, which stands somewhere in the middle.)

My partner, Ghita's, Instagram post to invite input. She used the popular Korean-American rapper, Jay Park, for the background image.

What I'm Thinking-The Stripes of Our Leather

The cultural appropriation discussion got me thinking a lot about identity. (Of course, as someone living in a foreign country I think about identity almost every day.) Many Korean hip hop artists love African American culture, but they can never claim it as the black community can. Similarly, I love Korea, but I am obviously not Korean. L

oving a culture but having no claim to it, not being able to truly commune with the object of our affection is really hard. How can we interact in a healthy way? What can we or can't we do?

I often get angry about my inability to exist in Korea as I'd like. Everything about me feels "other" but I'm not sure whether

 frustration caused by my "otherness" arises from how Koreans treat me or from my own inability to forget my "otherness." I find myself hyper-aware of what my obvious foreignness means to people, how it shapes their expectations, but I've met some people who have no expectations at all. It surprises me, and reveals I'm just looking for something to be angry about.

To me, my "otherness" seems loud and gaudy. I feel like I'm on a different plane than everyone around me. No matter how much Korean I learn or how comfortable I become, I nearly always feel one inch removed from society. However, I've internalized this idea of "otherness" so thoroughly even when I return to the US I feel slightly shifted from everyone else, so I know Korean society's not to blame. Perhaps that's the result of living abroad and straddling two cultures, but these days I feel it's more the result of my ego. Nevertheless, even if I overcome this ego the fact remains there are so many experiences I find attractive but can never have.

There's a word that suits this feeling—아쉽다

(ah-schwip-da: to be unsatisfied because something is lacking, missing, deficient, or to feel sad due to a lingering attachment.). When I watch K-pop groups perform I feel ah-schwip-da. When I pass a group of school children in uniform I feel ah-schwip-da. When I read about Korean life in the 1980s I feel ah-schwip-da. These are lives I can never live.

Even if someone argues I could still be in a K-pop group, or experience Korean school life (as a teacher, perhaps), or see the cherry blossoms with a boyfriend I feel my "otherness" would make the experience artificial. Like I'm reaching for something that's not really mine. Come to think of it most of my time in Korea has felt like reaching for something that's not mine. I should just go back to America and be American because isn't what I'm doing here just a form of cultural exploitation? Demanding a lifestyle that was never mine just because I desire it?

Here's an excerpt from Professor Myung Sun Song's book, "Hanguk Hip Hop: Global Rap in South Korea" that resonated with me. It's a quote from a Korean artist navigating the difficulty of loving a culture (hip hop) but not really feeling he has a claim to the culture.

"The most critical question I have had for a long time is in my first album Heavy Bass. The first verse of “Hipapdaun Hipap” [Hip hop that is hip hop] goes like this: “I question. The stripes of our leather can never be the same. I can only sigh.” No matter how black I design my rap flow and rhyme, or no matter how I dress, my skin will never be black. We need to clearly address this issue and face it. I think there needs to be a lot of reflecting on this matter. (personal communication, June 1, 2014) (Song, page 49)."

No matter how long I live in Korea or how comfortable I feel with the culture or language I'll never be Korean. I don't want to be angry about this reality anymore. This anger could just be a result of my white privilege, this desire to choose how others view me. It's true that many Koreans love African American culture and they want to wear the styles and perform the music and even speak like those who embody the culture they love, but they'll never have the same claim to it as African Americans do, and I'll never have the same claim to Korean culture. And I want to be ok with that. I'm glad to see how my relationship with Korea has changed and will continue to change. I may never be Korean, but I can be me.

Photos

A friend of mine took me on a cafe tour in honor of a k-pop star's birthday. He's the leader of a group we both like so I was happy to go! We visited 3 cafes and I spent a lot of money on coffee...but we got these neat souvenirs!

Coffees and sweets enjoyed before the current ban on visiting cafes. 😟 You can take away museums, clubs, and schools, but take away my CAFES? ㅠㅠ😭

Coffees and sweets after the ban, in my cozy little home. I've been continuing with take-out to support small local businesses. (Had a coupon for Starbucks though). The interaction with the barista's often the only time I talk to someone in person all day. I think they appreciate seeing someone as much as I do.

Food from October and November

Food from December

My church sent Thanksgiving and Christmas care packages, complete with masks, lotions, snacks, and a sweet card.

Made eggnog in preparation for Christmas. The first batch died but the second batch was custardy goodness.

Splurged on festive nail stickers. All fell off after about 1 week.

But also very beautiful.

I sometimes volunteer with an organization that feeds the homeless. Though it's COVID they still need to gather and eat, so workers put up barriers they clean every few rotations, check everyone's temperature when they arrive, and apply hand sanitizer like crazy. No one's allowed to take off their mask unless they're eating and people stay fairly silent. I wonder how we can bring some cheer to the situation.

My BABY. 💖💖💖

Scenes of Seoul

끝까지 함께 해 주셔서 고맙습니다. 다음에 또 만나요!

(Thanks for reading to the end. Let's meet again next time!)