Cobalt Green, on the Journeys of Her Life

On maturing into being, through journeying to the various places in the world, translated…

Chrome green is a green with that hint of yellow in it, withstanding great heat, bearing with the lights, something that’s used, when there’s this need for the persistent lighting. And this tramp I’d met, I’d called her, cobalt green.

The very first time I’d met Cobalt Green, we’d met out for supper nearby the publishers. She is vegetarian, ordered the spicy vegetarian fried rice, I’d ordered up the vegetable stew too. The portions were way too big, we’d not finished, and she had a lot of containers with her, and so, she’d, packed them up—including a lot of the water that we didn’t finish drinking too (the waiter thought we were a company of four, and gave us four glasses from when we sat down). Even as she’d returned to the major cities, she’d still kept “cherishing” the resources.

the peaceful state of mind this person must be experiencing, can you imagine it???  Photo from online…

She’d once traveled in India, Yunnan, Tibet and the borders of Thailand and Burma, although she’s a temporary visitor, the local family had given her the only glass of clean water for her to drink, and this became the most shocking moment in her whole journey.

Cobalt Green has a religious belief system, but she’d believed, that if we have our own faiths, then, it’d, belonged to oneself solely. I’d believed too, that the most precious kinds of beliefs surpass the religious kind. For instance, being a vegetarian is a way of respecting life, but, if the meat eaters don’t waste any of the meat products they’d consumed, then, it’s equally respectable. Especially when the vegetarians and the nonvegetarians showed respect to one another, wouldn’t that be, the core of “respect” being shown?

We have a shared similarity in character, that we were both forceful in that we hated relying on anybody else for anything. But I’d found, that in the process of her tramping, she’d slowly learned how to “reduce”, to stop constantly giving to the world. In the journeys close to the borders, she’d given her companions a lot of help, and the companions all showed their gratitude by giving some small gifts to her too. And, although those were small items, they’d all become, too meaningful to her. She’d told me, that tramping had taught people to become humbler, to stop using ones’ own views to judge the world constantly. For instance, she’d seen a lot of those who’d sponsored those in the developing nations, and visited locally, seeing how the locals were wearing a ton of accessories, then they’d made the judgments, “they’re not poor at all, they’d still had the money to buy the accessories.”, without knowing, that all those accessories were from the recycled metal scraps, and it wasn’t the same as the monetary values of the developed nations, but an alternative kind of culture and creativity.

查看來源圖片the journey of just one, photo found online…

I’d told her, a lot of start for the creations, seemed to stem from this wound inside of the creators. In the process of journeying, can it be a divide of Cobalt Green’s life, and the next stage of her life, what color will she turn? She’d replied, “on the wounds of the soul and memories, we needed to spend a lot of time, to fix up the missing parts, and it may take lifetimes to accomplish, but that eternal serenity, had always been inside our lives, never left us, it’s just we’d, forgotten them.” Maybe, Cobalt Green will become a permanent color for her life, and, the serendipitous encounters in the future, are going to be the decorations of that eternal peace she’d found.

So, this, is this woman’s view about life, and, she’d accumulated a lot of life experiences, by traveling, journeying to a ton of places, from the interactions she’d shared with people who are strangers, and life is an accumulation of our past experiences, leading up to who we currently are, and, all those experiences will help shape us into who we’re supposed to be as we age.

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A Damaged Poem

Tune out ALL the noises from outside, and just, F-O-C-U-S!!!Translated…

The poets wrote mostly bad poems, if he knows that he wasn’t any good at writing poetry, one of two results can com: first, he’d known he wasn’t cut out to be a poet, and never wrote another verse again.

Secondly, he’d known that he wasn’t good enough yet, and tried to write better, and those bad poems can also instill the poet, into writing poetry well.

What’s scary is, that most people won’t admit their own faults to themselves, and always believed, that whatever that they’d written was a masterpiece, that there’s no debating that. And, if the poems got tossed out, then, they’d blamed the readers, the reviewers for being blind, of not knowing a good poem when they saw one.

And so, the above assumptions are all ideals, they will never be true.

And so, all of this still showed, how writing is very subjective, that the writer is the only one, who can correctly critique her/his own work, because nobody else KNOWS the mindset you’re carrying, to write out the proses, the essays, the poetry you’d written out, and so, don’t let anybody else’s opinions of your work define who you are!

Leave Me Alone, in My Misery…

Leave me alone, in my misery, I know, that misery loves company, but I don’t! I just want to have a “time-out!”, so, BUG off!!!

Leave me alone, in my misery, so I can, sort through the pieces of what brought me this misery in the first place, don’t interject into my much-needed time of this solitude. Leave me alone, in my misery, stop trying to lighten up my mood, can’t you see, that I just want to, stay miserable, a little while longer???

查看來源圖片what is needed…not my artwork…

Leave me alone, in my misery, had people I know just done that, then, I would’ve had it easier growing up, but no, they kept prodding at me, trying to make me feel better (but hey, I do NOT want to feel better, I want to be miserable, at least, for a little while longer here!!!). Leave me alone, in my misery, just go already, stop making what’s originally simplistic too complicated, I just want to be alone, why can’t you get that, huh???

Leave me alone in my misery, the next time I get into a “mood”, which I won’t, and I don’t want to say forever, but hey, gotten rid of that HUGE source of my MISERY, as I had, DIED (really!!!), back in 2008 already………

but instead, I got this…查看來源圖片and, they’re all, in MY face too!!!  Not my art…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Getting Myself Through the Cramps of My Creativity

On working hard, to keep that inspiration coming to you, translated… I went to a lecture of the writer, Ke-Hsiang Liu a short while ago, he’d described the lows in his creativity nature as “As you’d lost your soul, there’s, nothing you can do”, it’d impacted me, YES!  It’s exactly like that, the emptiness, the helplessness, and draining of the energies.

My very first “creativity trial, was how I’d needed to, reply back to the complaints of the customers’ in the customer call center.  As the manager of the customer service center, faced with those angry customers, it was, naturally quite difficult, for me, to remain calm and reason with them, and so, in the shortest time, I’d called them back, and apologized, and as the customers’ feelings smoothed back down, then, I’d written them back, on how I believe the matters should be, handled.

See the source imageinspirations come when you’re alone…not my silhouette…

At first, I’d only did this as a part of my work responsibilities, that I’d needed to do it, then, I’d changed a thought, in this era where people are farther and farther away, and more detached than ever with one another, they’d still taken the time from their days, to tell you what you needed to improve, if that’s not having the heart, then, what would be?  And so, I’d treated every complaint as a sort of a kind reminder, and started writing my customers back with my heart, and slowly, the complaints were, reduced, and, the reputation of my company stayed good, and, what was out of my expectations was, writing the customers back became, what I drew from as I’d started writing.

After I retired, I’d gone back to school, and involved myself in a life writing course, and in the encouragement of the instructor, I’d, started writing.  Sometimes, the words would overflow out of me endlessly, I didn’t need any help, putting pen to paper; but most times, my thoughts drained dry, and, I’d watched that cursor on my computer, blinking on and off, and yet, still had difficulties, writing out three lines, and yet, as the deadline pressed on, I’d sighed about how my muse was so hard to control.

Once I’d gone to the lecture of the illustrated books, Cups Lin, she’d showed a photo of the American director, actor, Woody Allen, with a dog leash in his hand, full of facial expressions said, “I have ants as pets.”

Being influenced by Woody Allen, Cups Lin wrote a cute poem, “Rope”: “If I can have a Long Long Rope/Can I Walk the Moon?  If There’s a Really, Really Thick Rope/Can I Walk an Elephant?” as well as in “Secret Games”: “There’s a Floor Full of Sesame Underneath the Chairs, I’d Bent Over, Picked Them Up, the Sesames Started Moving Around.  Oh, They Were, Ants, Pretending to Be, Sesames………”, I’d finally understood, that creativity is nothing more than “changing a thought, and expressing that thought differently”, a game of imagination?

something like this, maybe???  Not my artwork…

As I’d become too anxious, having a hard time coming up with the words, the things I’d endured through my over fifty years of life flashed inside my mind, and at the same time, it’d, set up the multiple clues of writing I can take from; the findings on my trips, financial planning and me, the funny and stupid things I’d done as a child, all you need to know about customer service, the crazy volunteer, etc., etc., etc., almost all my stories had great beginnings, and yet, there’s not much I can go from then.  I’d understood, that writing is like sewing, but why did I always, come up, empty?

Nobody can compel you, unless it’s you.  Ke-Hsiang Liu said he’d taken the challenges of being on the board of trustees of the Central Agencies, that it was, “at the lowest of my writing career, I’d gone and do something I wouldn’t want to do the most”.  And naturally, that’s not what would happen to me; but the experiences of the writer, Dzi Fang started from “the smaller story writing, writing being a process of accumulations”, I can borrow from her.  I’d told myself, that I shouldn’t get discouraged at the low times of my own writing, so long as I continued reading and writing, I will eventually, have good materials to write about one day.

This, is on the ability to find inspiration in every day life, and it’s really hard, because, this, is all your days are made of, going to work in the morning, take your lunch breaks, return back to work, clocking out, and getting in that AWFUL afternoon rush to get back home again, but, there must be something worth noting in this grueling grind of the day to day, it’s just, whether or not, you’d taken that observant nature of yours and notice it or not!

Maybe This Time’ll be Different…

Maybe this time’ll be different, you know, unlike the last?  But, each and every single time, it’d always, ended up, the EXACT same way, and why is that, huh???

Maybe this time’ll be different, yeah, that’s what you believe, and, you’re, totally delusional, for believing that!  Maybe this time’ll be different, I’m, keeping my fingers crossed, in hopes, that everything will work out right, while here, in the back of my mind, there’s, that barely audible voice (but it’s there, and I know it!) telling me, this isn’t quite right, but, I want it to be, right!

Maybe, this time’ll be different, you think???  How can you be sure, that things will be, different this time, compared to all those times in the past?  Did you do something different?  Alter a tiny detail in your life?

Maybe, this time’ll be different!  Yeah, and maybe, you should get your head out of your A-S-S, and start coping with the harshness of your god damn FUCKED (and your point being???) up realities!!!

Maybe, this time’ll be different…yeah, uh, you WISH!  This time, just like ALL the other times, is exactly IDENTICAL, ‘cuz you still ain’t figured things out yet, but for me, every time IS different from my last, ‘cuz that’s how I stay active (in the BRAINS!!!), by changing things up a bit, besides, from my experience, I’d, learned that, staying the same gets me nowhere, so………

 

 

 

 

Chasing Down Regrets, a Poem

The understandings that came a bit late, translated…

Many Years Later

They Finally Come to the Understanding

That The Island Snowing

The People Going Crazy Over the Snows

The Day the Snow Covered Up the Lands

Was the Very First Day

of The End

If only you know what you didn’t know then, that, is regret, and, no matter how hard you’d recalled, how hard you’d longed, for those moments of mistakes in the past made by you back again, you can’t, have your lives, to do over again, and, if you keep on looking back, you’ll end up, missing out on the rest of your lives, but hey, what can you do?  You were the ones, who’d made that very first, initial WRONG step, and every single step afterwards, was to make up for that very FIRST mistake you’d ever made.

A Hottie in School

It took this woman going home, to realize her own patterns of behavior, and now that she’d snapped out of the vicious cycle of her own pattern of behaviors, she will have, better relationship

As Yun Yeh entered into her freshman year at Hong Kong University, it’d caused a riot.  She majored in finances of the business school there, and almost ALL the male classmates couldn’t wait to set their eyes upon this beauty; an almond-shaped face, delicate features, natural red lips, and milky white complexion, at 5’5, she was very fit, and she’d often worn a light smile on her lips.  The second week she’d entered into the volunteer group to visit the nursing homes, as the news got out, everybody thought, she was, a kindhearted beauty, the best candidate for a girlfriend, and, there were, more men in the business school who became infatuated.

Every time she walked out of the lecture halls, there would be a handful of guys, following her around, some asked her to be in the extracurricular activity they were involved in, some asked her about the assignments, and, some who knew her started asking her out.  Yun Yeh said to them, in her mild matter, and, agreed to go out with them, and, letting them down gently.  In the second semester of her freshman year, she’d agreed to go out with two juniors to supper, one was a handsome classmate of the same majors, Ching, the other, a handsome rich boy, Lin, who majored in international business.  They’d started competing openly.  As Ching learned that Lin had professed his love to Yun Yeh, but she’d not told him yes or no, he’d asked her to the college up the hills in Hong Kong University and told her he loved her in the ancient style bridge, Yun Yeh smiled and nodded toward him.  And the very next day, there was, this extra eye catching couple around the campus.  But what fazed everybody was, in a short month-and-a-half, it was over between them.  She’d still smiled lightly, and he’d, carried his cool flair, worked out at the gym.  The two didn’t mention to anybody why they broke up, it’s just, the other males from the business department no longer fluttered around her any longer.

As Yun Yeh was in her second year, there were the guys in different majors who’d gone to see her a lot, a senior in the electrical engineer major pursued her hard, and she’d accepted, they’d become the pair to watch for around campus, but, in two months, it was, over.  She is, beautiful as she always is, dressed even more fashionably now, just that her smiles, no longer as deep.  In her third year, Yun Yeh got involved with a volunteer trip, the senior from the mathematics economics major from another school fell in love with her at first sight.  This time, she was, more careful, not walked together with him around campus, to cause a discussion by the onlookers.  They’d gone strolling at the parks a lot, then, to dinner.  That very first month was sweet, they’d met up two, three times a week, but after a month, he’d stopped, asking her out, and they broke up at the end too.  Now, Yun Yeh had, stopped smiling, and was often, lost in thought.  She thought, she’d hoped her boyfriend would call her before bedtime to talk, hoped that he could, set up the dates with care, this wasn’t asking too much.  A lot of the other female students asked this of their boyfriends too.  So, what was the problem, of her past, failed relationships?

Toward the end of her junior year, she’d finished taking her last exam in the morning, returned to her dorm, to pack up her things, and readied to head to Taiwan for a self-help trip with her roommates the next day for a week.  Suddenly, her cell phone sounded off, it was her younger cousin, calling from Changsha, in Hunan, said that her mother had a stroke and is hospitalized.  Yun Yeh started crying out.  He’d told her that it wasn’t serious, that it’s only a mild stroke from the reduced blood flowing into her mother’s brains, that she was getting out that afternoon so long as she goes to rehab for the months that follow, she’ll be all right.  Yun Yeh didn’t go to Taiwan, that very day, she’d flown back to Changsha.  On the airplanes, she couldn’t help but cry.  Her mother was her sole support for these last five years, her father died in her first year of high school, her father had a huge business, and left her mother and her with a huge sum of inheritance, and a life with no worries.  As her father passed, she was so sad, but this time, her mother only fell ill, and she’d felt that the skies were, falling, she’d, depended so much on her mother.  Last night, she’d just used video conference with her mother, and she’d told her what foods to watch out for when she goes to the night market in Shihlin, because the stand didn’t use fresh oils.

Yun Yeh walked out of the airport, didn’t see her cousin, but someone called out to her, it was her high school classmate, Li Yuan, he and her cousin both studied in the University of Hunan.  Li Yuan took her suitcases, smiled and said, “Your cousin told me to come because he couldn’t.”  His smile was so bright like the sun, a bit, burning.  “Stop wearing a sour face, your mom’s fine, she’d wanted to come with me to pick you up, I’d stopped her, and told her to rest up at home.”

As Yun Yeh got into Li Yuan’s car, he’d chimed, “You know how happy it makes me, to be able to pick you up?”, she’d felt this heat in his expressions and voice, suddenly, Yun Yeh realized, that it’s this sort of warmth that’s made her melt every single time, is she, going to, repeat the same cycles this time as well?  Li Yuan reached over, to help her with the seat belts.  She’d told him, “Thanks, I can manage.”  He’d nodded and smiled, didn’t mind, and that, was when she’d realized, that it wouldn’t hurt people, if she’d, turned them down.

Yun Yeh turned the locks on her doors, her mother walked out of the bedroom, she’d run over and hugged her mother tightly, her mother felt stunned, and surprised, that, was the very first time, her daughter had ever, hugged her.  Her daughter asked flustered, “Mom, how are you?”, the two of them sat on the love seat, Li Yuan sat down on the single.  Her mother held her hands, told, “I woke in the morn, felt my left side go numb, a bit dizzy on the left of my head, and so, I got on a taxi and went to the emergency rooms.  The doctor said it was only, a minor embolism, that the blood made another way around, it’s no big deal now, don’t worry about me, child.”  She’d wrapped her arms around Yun Yeh’s shoulders, “I’ll make you something to eat, spicy dumpling soup, Li Yuan, stay for it too!”

Shame started growing inside of Yun Yeh, she’d said in a muffled voice, “Mom, stop working so hard, be a fitting patient, I’ll go and steep some tea.”  She’d entered into the kitchen alone.  As the kettle was boiling, she’d understood suddenly, that her mother was that surge of warmth that wrapped around her, as she started dating, she’d, transferred this sort of mode of interaction, demanded that the guys she’d dated to pay attention to her, to care for her, she’s the one, who’d, turned herself into the kind of girl that every man disliked.  It’s time, she broke out of the pattern of behavior now, in the future, as she started dating again, she needed to, become, more independent.

So, it took this woman coming home, to visit her mother, to realize how she was, subconsciously carrying the expectations of how carefully her mother looked after her and imposing it onto the guys she was dating, and now, as she realized this, she is going to have a better chance, of having longer lasting relationships in life.