Transit onward to UCD

You have to get into the EU line only to get out as quick as you can.

This man’s remark sums up the Irish politics quite well for a foreigner. With the austerity signs, radio ads, and the vote no/vote yes posters, I’m seeing more politics than America already. Or maybe I’m just desensitized.

Regardless, Ireland has been one of the most wonderful places to explore. I’ve climbed mountains in flats, trekked the hills of Tara in sandals, and skipped Giant’s Causeway in boots. I’ve made fast friends. My new travel blog TumbleweedWords has already been given to strangers across the pond. My article has been edited for Niche. This blog is getting revitalized as more an update ground and musings on my life as it should be.

And all my photos from San Francisco have been uploaded. Yes. I think this 3-day interim had been good to me. Now to start writing. And studying. All over again. . .

Going Dutch

After traveling to Pella, IA for the day, instead of coming back motivated to push the long haul into summer past the final two weeks of university, I came back exhausted. Not to say drinking Voodoo Chai in the downtown coffeeshop after sampling recreated authentic Dutch meats, imported basil&garlic cheese, and some really delectable pastries wasn’t rejuvenating. Yet, I found myself having finally lost the urge to do any more work.

Relaxation.

That’s the killer of my motivation.

I know I may complain on  here about my constant pushing and uphill struggle to get work done, but let me tell you. As soon as I take an unscheduled break, boom! I’m back to lazily meandering through the internets and laying on my bed wishing I had the strength to do simple tasks and workings. Oh no. ‘Tis not “burning out” necessarily, so much as I need recuperation time from my recuperation time. <<; What a life I live when I need to learn to relax from learning to relax.

On that note, imagine walking into a Dutch village from 200 years ago that has been pulled from a postcard. Oddly stuck in the center of Iowa, Pella is a quaint and friendly town. The small population of 10,000 people boasts a huge economic event the last week in April/first week in May called “The Tulip Festival.” Strangely enough, The Netherlands may be known for its tulips; but its really economic strength is tourism and Shell Oil.

Even so, The Pellicans (as they called themselves) adorn the town in bright tulip petals, traditional Dutch garb and wooden shoes, and offer authentic baked goods to everyone! I did not come during this time. Which explains why it was so easy to get a parking place in the center of town. The cloudy sky was still too bright for my eyes. Leaving my sunglasses behind was not the smartest idea; the long raincoat flicking in the wind behind me was. It was typical Netherlands’ spring weather: windy, offshoot clouds, but thankfully–no rain.

I peered into the different sandwich shops. Each serving and catering to a different crowd of age and dynamic. Skipping the elderly crowd at a Bologna Cafe and the high school student crowd at the Brew, I meandered into a corner side venue. The Coffee and Soda Fountain knew what I wanted before I had ordered it. My tired eyes and overexerted effort to get to the counter may have tipped them off more than my  appearance. Then again, going with three foreign looking men and carrying various baked good bags probably didn’t help.

Voodoo Chai + 1 espresso shot, how I adore your spicy kick and smoothe aftertaste on the roof of my mouth that had been previously burnt by a creamy, rich Tomato Basil Soup @ 2:30 in the morning two days/nights/24 periods ago. Another wonderful treat to tease my taste buds and make me wish for more free samples? Basil&Garlic Gouda with Dried Beef. I know, it’s not my usual fare when I go to different ethnic locations. Don’t fret; the baked good sweets will come soon. But in all honesty, nothing tasted more savory and more palatable than that combination right there. I didn’t know Dried Beef existed (not jerky), much less that it was slow-smoked, lightly-salted, and it was JUST the flavour of the beef begging me to eat it. Small portions was just enough? AMEN! This means that everything I buy is just enough.

Despite the restaurant my Professor took us to being a complete and utter flop, I thoroughly enjoyed my time talking linguistics with a Dubian (Dubai, get it? Haha….ohkay, sorry), ballroom dancing with a Dutchman, and  lamenting on the bitter taste of Netherlands’ licorice with a Mexican Des Moines native. If only I had been awake for the 6 hours I spent with them, rather than the 2 after the espresso shots, then maybe they would have had a better time with me. At least I know I had a fantastic time with them!

it’s so relaxing….

knowing that you have time to finish everything when your days aren’t limited to the whole “wake up” and then “go to sleep” mantra. just working through it regardless of the time and absent from it, rather then bound to it is wonderful!

even better is saying, okay, I have class at 12:30 and a meeting @ 4 and then class @ 5, but other than that I’m free to do whatever is really incredible. if I also just say the first thing I do when I wake up is work out (even if I go sleep after that) then it’s even better. because really, i love working out early in the morning as soon as I wake up. so yes, i’ll be getting up around 5:30 I think to go workout for an hour every day, and then i’ll come back, make breakfast, or i’ll stay out and eat breakfast depending on my mood. and every day will overall be fantastic because i can sleep, eat, and do work whenever I bloody feel like it.

this week’s before Thursday projects:

 Paradise Lost Research Paper Draft 16 pages single spaced edited and printed
 Playwriting One Act Play Completed (in semi-draft form) 16-20 pages AND
 Potential meeting with professor about the play? during office hours, at least emailed
 Japanese Speech Draft Script!
 Japanese Test on Wednesday;
 Japanese Homework on Tuesday (for a chapter I'm supposed to be ahead on);

Also, quote that won’t be said directly, but will be felt through mind-waves: “I’m sorry; there can be nothing between us. I don’t care if you do drugs, or you drink the bottle dry, or if you had sex with every women you met before me. But when you badmouth the rain…that’s just going too far. No one disses my rain.”

poetry and poetics: the differences in art

many people say “that’s poetic” or “don’t be such a poet!” or maybe, it’s just the people i happen to hang out with. anyway, when someone calls something poetic or starts blabbering corny rhymes and imagery, it can be an instant reaction to:

run away

draw fake tears down your cheeks

or maybe just shout “don’t be so emo!”

but take a step back before any of those occur. is that person even trying to be a poet? is that person just mocking through like poeticly? or is this person ACTUALLY going into that field and speak aloud to feel how the words sound?

poetry is an art form, a machine, a semblance of words on the page, a giant metaphor, etc. etc. etc. . .

poetics is an exaggeration of something that makes it seem more flowery, fanciful, fantastic, etc. etc. etc. . .

poetry is a form of expression and impression. impression not to impress, as in to make someone proud of you or to make them view you higher; but rather to impress, as in to impress your thoughts, images, and ideals on the reader which goes through expression via imagery, metaphor, tone, form, syntax, et al. entirely different from poetics, because although all poets use poetics, not all those who use poetics are poets. 

prose uses many elements of poetry–the metaphor, the figurative philosophies in a story. but what separates poetry from using poetics is the form, not the content, of the work.

poetry is distinguished as such for its tendency towards breaking the line at odd intervals, being more abstract, and even when written in prose is somehow shorter or more flowery.

writing, writing, writing: keep that dialogue coming

one email.
five pages of brainstorm.
ten pages of script.
two days later.
.
.
.

alright. so it’s incredible how much excitement has flowed from my fingers and into my writing. i know rough drafts are always rough, but it’s too hard to stop writing to polish them anymore than i already have (as in polishing while I’ve been writing).

for me, writing is a two, sometimes three, step process. So, to go through page after page without truly editing is really intense for me. i can’t wait to go through it and actually read everything that i’ve actually written through and reedit and repolish.

i’m jumping up and down i am so excited.

writing the end, knowing where the manga is going, knowing how everything is going to connect, to transform into the end that actually will combine everything into one huge philosophical arc is just incredible, it’s enthralling and i’m completely involved in the writing.