Three days. Four countries. Five flights. 20,000+ miles. Started on a beach in the South China Sea last Sunday wrapping up over Jamaica Bay Saturday afternoon with interludes in Xintiandi street stalls and Apujeong soju parlors. Power plants and coastlines bookmarking strong flavors and personal frontiers.
This week I cartwheeled across shark nets in the Lamma Channel. I raced old men on bicycles through the streets of the French concession. I danced down the Incheon aisles.
Following last Sunday's moonless night, I've found the soft warm glow before Pearl Tower and after PowerPoint presentations. I have been pining for the moon- imagining a dark and distant dream could be better than the fiery sun that sits squarely on my street.
This week I cartwheeled across shark nets in the Lamma Channel. I raced old men on bicycles through the streets of the French concession. I danced down the Incheon aisles.
Following last Sunday's moonless night, I've found the soft warm glow before Pearl Tower and after PowerPoint presentations. I have been pining for the moon- imagining a dark and distant dream could be better than the fiery sun that sits squarely on my street.
I am finally figuring out how to enjoy the sun's warmth and embrace the constant joy that sits inside me.
I'm going to Graceland.
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