In class on Tuesday I really enjoyed getting to experience some of the elements of the Wind and Stream performance hands-on. Although some of the women did not have very large roles, I could really sense that they were passionate about their work and studies from the way that they enthusiastically pursued their endeavors and sang wholeheartedly. And although they could not speak much English, they were kind when instructing those of us who sang with the fishing net, and when assisting other students in creating hats. It was very interesting to me how kindness exceeds even the language barrier, and how a smile says so much.

One element I really appreciated about getting to meet the performers from Jindo in class before watching them on stage was that I got to be even more excited when they sang songs that I recognized. The day of the performance, I showed all of the students in my Chinese class the Arirang song, and by the end of class everyone was singing it. Due to that, when the Dance Traditions students began to sing Arirang during the show it had much more of a significance for me than it would have if I hadn’t been exposed to it in the private setting before hand. Now, I printed out the lyrics, and I am determined to memorize the solo versus because they are so fun!  

In addition, I did not expect to see Professor Park sing! It was so interesting. During the show my friend Samantha turned to me and asked, “When did she have time to work on this? Didn’t they just arrive from Jindo?” In fact, I am still curious about when she had the time to learn all of the choreography, music, and lighting but it was exciting nonetheless. Prof. Park and all of the other performers were very convincing: when they were sad they wailed, and when they were happy they danced and I really got to feel like I was in a small town in Korea.

In addition, I appreciated how everything had significance in one way or another. If I am to choose my two favorite scenes they would be the scene of the woman dancing, and the scene where Professor Kang and the man from Jindo sat down and played instruments while singing a tale. I would have to choose those two because of how meticulously prepared they seemed and due to their well execution. The dancers feet for example, were what really made the dance interesting for me (in the least creepy way possible). She would perfectly flex her foot and move in a fluid way where our eyes were caught in a balance between watching the flow of her dress and the strong lines of her feet while she danced. She was graceful, and a lot of emotion was conveyed even though nothing was said. And the way that you played that instrument (was it a harp?) was awesome. I appreciate how cultured everyone in the performance was and I learned a lot. In terms of critique, I would only hope that it could be in a location more accessible to students. Luckily, I found a ride, but the bus would have be 40 minutes there and back from campus. This is a performance I believe a lot of students on campus could benefit from but may not know about, or be able to travel for, but aside from that it was splendid!

Though I major in Korean and minor in Chinese, writing has a special place in my heart. Throughout high school, I attempted to write three novels and two plays, dedicating a large chunk of my time to writing, reading, and editing. The rest of my time, aside from schoolwork, was spent self-studying Mandarin Chinese. I was exposed to Mandarin Chinese in the 7th grade, and I have been hooked on it ever since. I guess one could say I was drawn to language because it was yet another medium for self-expression. It gave me infinite more ways to enunciate the things I wanted to say. I was exposed to the Korean language much later, at the beginning of my senior year of high school. I was over high school’s small community drama and even smaller class sizes and found myself at the Ohio State University full-time through the Academy Program studying everything I could get my hands on. As with great friends, I discovered that my passion for the language was not deterred because I was exposed to Korean at a later time. The moment I began to study, it just clicked.

I truly enjoyed listening to Mah Chonggi because his work is a fluid mesh of two of my favorite things: writing and language. Mah changed how I viewed poetry because when asked, “What do you do when you have writer’s block” in the Q&A portion of the night, he responded with a nonchalant, “I don’t.” To clarify, he did not say that he does not cope with writer’s block, but instead that he does not get it. He went on to explain that writing poetry does not need to be overly practiced and that if he does not know what to write or particularly feel like writing, he doesn’t. That boggled my mind. For years, every writing teacher I have had preached that it does not matter what you write as long as you stay in the habit of writing and this man completely contradicted their teachings. Why? He was a doctor for thirty years. When he wasn’t in school busily studying to become a doctor, he was working hard hours as one, and he simply did not have the luxury of writing freely or consistently. That, however, was what molded his writing. He described a moment he’d never forget: he was in an American hospital after a patient passed away, and looked out at the falling autumn leaves and thought about how people, too, fall. That was the inspiration for one of his most famous poems.

That struck me deeply. It was profound. When I imagine that moment, I hear the numbing shrill of the EKG ringing throughout the room as the clock steadily ticks on, and I understand how sometimes writing just happens. Even more, it is okay to just let it happen. In writing, language learning, and my personal life I find that I often cannot find the will to just let things happen. The same routines that ground me are the ones that will not let me free. I learned from Mah Chonggi that many of life’s lessons cannot be planned for and that I need to be in the present to receive them. He also taught me, that it doesn’t take a certain major in college to be a writer– he was a doctor of all things. Being a writer takes heart and a person with something to say, that in the moment, has the courage to say it. 

Novel Cover

[The Home Page will show a running blog of your recent posts, which are categorized and show on that category’s page. Please delete this post or edit with your own information.]