Another October Fly By

Where is the time going? I am sort of glad we were not home for Halloween. The past two years only two or three kids even came around our neighborhood. Hubby buys bags of candy, and then we end up eating it for a few days, then I take it and give it away.

While we were on Jeju (known as the Honeymoon Island in Korea) we had the opportunity to visit a place I dare not post on facebook, because hubby's family might be offended. Since this is TMI, I get to post a few pics over here. The place is called Loveland. They are stuck in the 1950's era as far as relationship thinking over here, or so we have been told by local twenty something friends of my son and his girlfriend.

They meet the opposite sex by introduction, no public display of affection, they get engaged after a long courtship, unless they get pregnant, which we were told happens at least fifty percent of the time, rarely divorce, and visit a Love Motel for some privacy. Because many families all live together, due to affordable housing and lack of money. But....and there is always a but.

For some reason they have to parks where sex is openly displayed- Loveland and Penis Park. Go figure...

Okay, so far I have spared you the racy sculpture pictures. And hubby took lots and lots of them, why? Who knows. Well, here goes...I will share...just one racy picture...

Shocking right?

I RACED to get in this swing with hubby. The park was crowded.

This is one pose we have not been in for a long while.

We are not sure what the sign above us said in Korean, but I am almost certain it may say 'Suckers'...for love that is.

Here is a sneak peak at their idea of art...

A giant mechanical...something or another...

I am also pretty sure whatever it is does not lift off or take man to the moon...or could it?

Be Gone Evil Spirits

Our trip is going well, and we just got back to Seoul from Jeju Island, off the coast of South Korea. We adjusted to the time change well. Food is so so, I am growing tired of Kimchi and Banchan for breakfast lunch and dinner.

We are walking walking walking every where, and surviving. My son has gained some weight, not wanting to admit it, he still continues to eat everything you put in front of him. Although he got food poisoning from our last Jeju meal of pork. Thankfully I only ate french fried in the airport, and Robert ate bibimbop vegetarian.

Now we are off to Samcheok and to experience Love Motels, a Penis Park, and caves. Sound homo-erotic? LOL We went to Love Land in Jeju, since it is known as the honeymoon capitol for Koreans. Funny eh?

I have written some, and got an invitation to do another contributor series on 'Finery'. It will go well with the photo graph of this elderly couple who came to the romantic falls in Jeju to renew their vows. So much love. The people are not easily swayed by our western swagger here. Its been hard to break the language barrier, and thankfully my son and his girlfriend speak their native tongue, enough.

Hope all is well with you, and I will catch up when we return.

Photos belong to moi, E Stelling- Above, the grandfather who guards all from evil spirits, and always made from the lava of Jeju Island. Four inactive volcanoes to visit and climb. Bottom- Korean couple in traditional ceremonial garb, worn for weddings and other celebration.

Me In My Eyes

Did you know Picasso wrote poetry? Most people do not, unless they have studied him. My kids loved his work when we would visit museums during school field trips. I took them when I home schooled, art was a big part of their lessons.

I have abandoned sculpture engraving and painting to dedicate myself entirely to song.

— Picasso to Jaime Sabartés April 1936, he was fifty four years old.

Poetry became his alternative outlet after divorce, and a few other emotional trials.

My children took an art camp one summer and enjoyed learning about Picasso and three other well known artists. I still have those paintings in storage, if the NJ bugs haven't devoured them.

dogs

dogs eat at the night
buried in the yard
they chase the moon in a pack
the white of their teeth
compared to stars

the windows close against them
iron bars in transparency

life closes against them

the morning will crush them to dust
with only the wind left
to stir them up

So many of them inspire me to write and sketch...

Jessie Carty spoke in a post last week about how we can go periods without writing. Often our lights are turned off in one room so we can move into another area of creative endeavor. It's how I roll.

Sadly on my trip there was no cooking. I was invited to cook in a friends house when we return from Jeju this week. He is fond of certain things I can teach his new wife and has a much larger apartment with all the updates. My son's kitchen is an eight of a galley, smaller than a small yacht galley would be.  My body is sore, and I posted some photos on Facebook.

(photo above belongs to moi- Seoul South Korea night life area, Gangnam-gu, where I was held captive until 3 AM. I was the only sober one in the group. We had dinner with my son and Andi's engaged friends, Jeff and Cindi, whom is Korean)

Be Happy With Who You Are

If you think about it, being a zombie is in some ways is a lonely life. If you don't then you probably have a life and do not live in my fantasy world. Can they be lonely? Even though they run in packs. Because you know when one smells fresh meat, the others come limping. Maybe they do find a friend and hang out? Hmmm

Which brings me to the fact how do they have senses if they are the undead. Like smelling. Why is it they still have brain functions and heightened smelling and can eat if their bodies are decaying? Not sure, but in my stories they live the undead life. Pain is a normal part of there story...

Zombies Can’t Love

Light streams in from high-rise neon signs off side streets. Flashing on and off through window blinds. Red illuminating and mingles with the yellow blanket and dingy stripped walls. I can see a glimmer of the sign’s reflection off the bathroom mirror as I come in and out of consciousness. Dried blood mixed with my fresh wounds are on my hands and arm. Burning and pain come from my groin area. Where is she? I remember her lifting me from the floor, like a dream, and somehow we made our way to this place. You could hear noise coming from the streets, so the living must still dominate waking hours.

I lift myself up from the bed and stagger into the bathroom. The urge to throw up is strong, as my stomach begins to churn. Reaching to turn on the light my eyes cannot take the outside bright and burning illumination, so I change my mind. I can see as my clearly face as it rises up to the mirror. A change is taking place. My skin is beginning to turn pale. Gray skin matter mixed with streaks of blood, but yet I am still as human as I was waking up this morning. Was I hurt enough to seek help outside these walls? What had she done to me?

Stumbling back into the main room I began to think of things, taking my mind off of this pain. Funny how cheap hotel rooms can have a horror film feel about them. The wallpaper looks like werewolves have clawed their way out of cereal boxes and into a bowl of clotting milk. Paintings that look like Vegas boardwalk prizes after you shot over four or five moving targets. Targets. Yeah, I was a target and the star of a freak show alright. Targeted by a creature who walked right into my life and I couldn’t even lift my weapon. Was it so hard to take out a few others along the way, so I could go on with my life. No. I had to fall hard for the bad ass bitch of them all.

(photo- Zombies Can't Love, NYC Zombie Crawl 2011, I felt it made for a great micro-fiction. The sequel to 'Crush')