Epilogue - Prologue

It's Friday afternoon. I am sitting in a living room in Minneapolis surrounded by fabrics and the sounds of Yoko Ono. There is a blue typewriter sitting on the table as I type away on the laptop. This morning's bus ride took me past fields of windmills and harvested corn. It also included the classic "your beautiful where r u from?" cell phone text pick-up attempt. My mother and I baked pies for Thanksgiving and my hometown visit included catching up with old friends and listening to their children say cute things like, "Do you like dead animals? I do," said while stroking a freshly plucked pheasant feather. And, "Do you wanna play dolls in my room? Look!" placing a wiggling Mermaid Barbie tail inches from my face. We made it rain sequins in the living room instead.



I have been looking forward to being here, back in the United States. My flight from Seoul to Tokyo went well, until I noticed that my next flight's boarding time was earlier than my current flight's arrival time. In missing the connection, I essentially re-enacted a scene from a John Candy/Steve Martin flick. The re-routed schedule took me through Chicago (where I was extremelly irritated by the 5 business calls happening around me in the tram from Terminal X to Terminal Y. Eventually, I realized that business calls had probably been happening around me quite frequently over the past year, I just couldn't understand them, so I got over my irritation), and I ended up in Boston 2 hours ahead of schedule. I subsequently ran into the woods of New Hampshire for nearly 2 weeks. That time was used to absorb the last month or so of my time in Korea. I called Korea a couple of times and lamented the lack of seaweed. Sheela and I took time to live slow. Hunting season had just begun, so international orange was the color scheme of choice.

After a mini-tour of New England to collect my things and say hello, I went to Philadelphia to touch down like a tornado and lifted off again for Minneapolis. One week here wasn't enough. I came back to catch a train to New Orleans. I'll attend the public library book sale, perhaps a Bloody Mary buffet, the Santa Run, and a Cover Band Show, I'll look at a room to move into...I'll get back to my old life. And then I'll leave. In 2 days.

The storage unit containing my father's life must be attended to. I will gladly do so, and I will gladly get to warmer weather, and I will gladly again be in the city of my birth. The real question is, how long will I stay? I am trusting that life will provide. Somehow a place to stay and work on the matter at hand will present itself, and things will work out. They always do.

Oh, the dilemma of where to plant roots (temporarily, at least). North? South? This moment has lasted quite a while. From the instant I left Gimcheon for Busan, I have been living out of my suitcase with no home to head to. It's not that bothersome to me, actually, but it is a bit difficult to explain to others. At first, "Home", meant the USA. Now that I'm here, there is another decision to be made.