Been to Jerry's

I’d returned from my brother’s house in Gimpo yesterday. ‘Up and back’ of two days took 13 hours by car. Sunny, my sister, drove the car and my father was sitting in the back seat. I was totally exhausted, and Sunny and Dad might be more tired than I. The driver and the back-seated! I slept till late in the morning today. The sad thing is that years cannot lie and nothing cheats years. I’m not young anymore, though I always assert that years are just less than numbers. Nevertheless, it cannot take dreams away from me. I’ll dream like I’ve done till now. God bless me!

My brother-Jerry’s pastoral house was fabulous. It was two storeys white building with five rooms, two bathrooms, one large living room, one dining, and beautiful green garden. The house was considerable big for his family and he looked so comfortable and happy there with Gyeong-A (my sister-in-law) and Hae-An (my niece). I’m not a good elder sister but I constantly love them. Thank God we’re family! Their decision of choosing a pastoral house was preferable to maintaining their apartment in a city. The apartment in the city was more expensive but smaller and stuffy. By selling it, they got spaciousness and surplus values. I’m proud that Jerry and Gyeong-A are definitely good teachers with their excellent sense of values. It would be no problem if all teachers in Korea are like them!

At first, I was about to visit Seoul as well, dropping by Insa-dong and National Central Museum or Seoul Arts Centre. Insa-dong is my regular visiting place in Seoul. I didn’t go anywhere, however, since Sunny wanted to get back early for home and father and I were not well. We started for Busan early in the morning yesterday after staying only one night at Jerry’s. It was gloomy in the morning and gradually rainy as we’re southward bound. In Busan it rained heavily from the morning, they said.

The rain kept till today like there’s a big hole in the sky, but I loved it. The drum-beat sound of the raindrops gives me a certain feeling of release and the rhythm of the falling rain feels me excitement. Rain is moody at some time or absolutely reverse now and then, and this time I particularly feel free and happy with it. I cannot tell why, though. Now it stops and the night air smells so fresh.

Brit…

Asthma

These days I have struggled against my old complaint asthma, which finally returned after long-sustained cough. I could hardly breathe and my voice has been horse for about a month (It seemed not mine!). I could barely utter a voice due to hacking dry cough. Bad condition lasted on me several weeks, but a few days ago, suddenly became better. It was helped by the wet days as well as my doctor’s prescription (I really like my doctor, Dr. Kim), I think. Lovable English weather has put down yellow sand in the air.

Though I cannot sing because my singing voice is not stable yet, my talking is not so irritated. Finally, I can speak freely after the lapse of a month. I’m happy for that. Asthma, known to only those who know!

Brit…

Prof. Gilloch’s seminar

Yesterday, attended a seminar hosted by Professor Graeme Gilloch from Lancaster University. His seminars will be held six times every Tuesday from yesterday (except 25 May). The subject of the seminars can be defined in a word, “Urban”. The first one is titled “The Return of the Flaneur” (v., the second is “Seductive Strangers”; the third, Urban Rhythms; the fourth, Orpheus in Paris Ⅰ: Maps and Memories; the fifth, Orpheus in Paris Ⅱ: Images and Others; the sixth, ‘You must remember this . . .’).

The text of yesterday was Michel de Certeau’s one chapter, ‘Walking in the City’, from his work, The Practice of Everyday Life. I’ve ever read Certeau’s The Writing of History, and it was an excellent work. I could know Certeau was deft in writing (his thinking as well) though the text I read was a translation, so he became one of my favourite French thinkers including Michel Foucault. Both of them are based on History.

Professor Gilloch’s British accent was familiar to me, and I felt comfortable on listening to him. Besides, he purposely spoke slowly and clearly for auditors, all of whom were Koreans, so I understood every word of him. In fact, my taste in English has inclined toward British not American since childhood, and I often listen to BBC radio through the internet, not watching CNN, yet cannot wholly understand what the radio says, but just listen.

Professor Gilloch showed us Michel de Certeau’s photo with several theorists’. About Foucault, Benjamin and others, I’ve ever seen their photos, but never Certeau’s, which it was the first time I saw Certeau’s appearance. He is good-looking as Foucault. Foucault’s handsomeness as well as his remarkable works has captured my mind since I first read Foucault. Certeau is definitely different from Foucault in and out, but has attractiveness of his own. Certeau’s side face from the photo reminded me of Jeremy Irons, a little bit.

Yesterday’s subject “Walking in the city” made me imagine listening to one of my favourite song “Walking in the air”, which singing I prefer Aled Jones’s voice to anyone. I was further led to imagine various things such as Dickensian London, Mrs. Gaskell’s Victorian Manchester, Joyce’s Dublin, and so on. And I recalled Conrad’s “damp” and “fluorescent’ night of London in his The Secret Agent. My imagination doesn’t mean that I diverted myself listening to Prof. Gilloch, and I just recalled urban images represented in novels. Therefore, ‘two hours’ was not long to me.

Brit…

Art of refusal: Michael's advice

How can I decline someone (sometimes, something) with good intentions without hurting his/her pride and feeling when I'm not in the mood to accept? Sometimes I become irresolute when a decision is need. I know being refused is a heart-breaking thing, and it naturally hurts one’s feeling. Everyone resumes in their own ways of reacting to rejection, and the effect of being refused varies on each of them. Of course, it depends on situations and personalities, someone easily forget, and someone doesn’t.

I’m not a kind of person who easily requests anything at all, in fact, I rarely request (sometimes, offer) something to others, whatever it is, even if s/he is my friend. It’s because I’m prone to be easily hurt. If I feel requesting easy, I would not mind its consequences, but I cannot. Since I hate/fear to be hurt my pride or feeling, I’m reluctant to present my hands to others before they do. Therefore, I don’t want others’ heart to be hurt as well.

Michael gave advice for me. He said, “If they have enough pride to ask, they should have enough pride to handle whichever answer they're given. You don't have to feel responsible for their feelings. If you were responsible for their feelings, you would have stopped them before they asked in the first place.” He added, “People just don't confront each other and don't like to say ‘no’ when they really want to. I understand why it's difficult, but I would never want to agree to something I oppose. It's important to be true to yourself first and foremost.”

He’s right and the most important thing is that I must be true to myself. I am as I am and I should do as I do.

Brit…

A friend

I think I was frivolous with being stirred up by indescribable feeling. Flippant in old sense and flighty, I disdain, yet I was. I can’t tell why. Often forgetting myself, I miss the very moment to walk the line. I cannot define that I didn’t behaviour properly, but “too much is as bad as too little” (過猶不及). The matter is that I feel I talked too much, just trivial things of mine. People usually don’t want to hear about insignificant others. My own story is nothing to them.

I just got a web-friend yesterday. He is not only my generation but also on a par with me as far as I concern. At least, more than one point of view let us come to a mutual understanding, I think. I know people are naturally different after all, even though they share opinion and interest, and I don’t expect sameness. No one totally matches, and sometimes even I myself discord with me. So many selves in me!

To talk of the new friend, I barely know about him, yet I don’t think his capacity would be as much as Dimitri’s. Dimitri lives on absolutely another horizon, the only one who can chat with me about music, cinema, fine arts, literature, etc, though his literature is mostly Korean, while mine is Western. Our understanding communicates, perspectives levels, and romanticism matches. Thank God I’m always his Violetta! I’ve never met a man like him, but never thought him as a man. He has been good to me all the time, above all, his tolerance and embracement for me compare with none, but just a [male] friend not a boy friend to me. I cannot decide his feeling for me, whereas mine is definite. I miss him, but I won’t. . .

A web-friend is just a web-friend, no more, no less. Nevertheless, he reminds me of Dimitri because we are all of same age and he seems to be a communicable person after a long vacuum. Maybe so, I couldn’t exercise moderation. Hope I wasn’t light.

Brit…

Still not well

After unusual illness in April, I felt better for a moment. Last week I went to school on Wednesday and Thursday. Damn intervallic dry cough remained however, and it didn’t go down. Sometimes a hacking cough held my breath and words. Then the cough has become more and more frequent since weekend and became so severe that I even vomited during coughing, so I couldn‘t go to school again.

My professor/supervisor phoned me this morning, saying he called up at his office. Nowadays I usually study at his office and he calls me up at his office whenever he has something to tell me. After appointed to the Dean of the College of Humanities, he moved to Dean’s office, so his personal/professorial office is vacant for two years. Then he let me, whom his assistant, use his personal office as my own. His office is full of books that I have to (and want to) read for my doctorial thesis. I know I’m endowed with some privilege, because he is not a man who easily shares privacy with others. I am the first person/assistant whom he gave the security key of his office and I deeply appreciate his thoughtful consideration to help me on studying.

Now I can hardly talk since a hacking cough beats me every time I utter a voice. My voice sank down and I feel my throat swollen. I begin to worry about losing my voice. I think I must see the doctor again.

Brit…