8 Days (팔일)

Ghosts in the Studio (스튜디오의 유령)

I don’t particularly get along with people for long periods of time. I am pretty choosy about the people I spend my time with because most people tend to annoy me after about an hour. It’s probably the leading reason I can’t seem to keep a relationship for longer than a year. I’m not sure whether it’s because other people are boring or the other way around, I have never spent much time trying to figure it out. I don’t engage much in small talk or banter, unless it’s a situation which brings me some sort of social benefit, but I think that’s most people. I think that’s why Hak and I get along so well, we don’t really have to talk to figure things out.

Hak lands late Friday afternoon and is planning on staying for 8 days. I pick him up at the airport and he is wearing black boots, jeans, and a t shirt. “The weather here is much nicer than Seoul” he says as we drop off his bags at my house. Our first stop is the studio. I have gotten most of the essential materials, but tell him we will stop by the art store first thing in the morning tomorrow. Some friends stop by to say hello and we head out to a swanky little beer bar across the street from Dolores Park. There is a girl there who I used to see, but it’s nothing that a few drinks can’t fix.

We take a bar brawl down through Valencia to my favorite haunts: Elbo Room, Skylark, and finally Casanova. Me and Hak break off from the group and head over to Panchitas for some papusas. I can tell that the travel is catching up to him so we say goodbye to the group and we head back home for the night. We wake up on Saturday and go straight to work. The next week goes by like clockwork. Breakfast, studio, lunch, studio, dinner, studio. 

Quarter life Slump (분기 생활 슬럼프) 29x24 Mixed Media on Canvas

I ask Hak if there is anything special he wants to see, “Maybe the Golden Gate Bridge?”

“No, no. I didn’t see the Golden Gate Bridge while I lived here. I just want to hang out and paint.”

It was the answer I was hoping for. Although we live in different countries and speak different languages, our lives have taken very similar trajectories. We are both single and in our 30s. We have taken blue collar and menial jobs in order to survive. We don’t seem to be able to hold down steady relationships. But we are free in a way that most people are not.

We pick up where we last saw each other in Korea. The pace we work at is set to hectic. We are intending to finish 8 pieces during his stay, one complete piece for each day. I’ve always seen the way we work as improvisational jazz, a layering of distorted scales and vibrant color palettes, layered style over style until we deem the piece complete. Gesso, house paint, pastels, charcoal, acrylics, and oil paint. It is a constant flux of creation and destruction, building up and tearing down.

Exile (망명) 36x24 Mixed Media on Canvas

“How are things going back in Korea?”

“They are good. I’m going to apply to grad school this winter and I'm going to quit my bartending job. I want to dedicate my time fully to painting.”

“No new girlfriends?”

“No, sometimes girls try to talk to me at the bar or leave their phone numbers. I’ve just started to tell them I’m gay so that they leave me alone. What about you?”

“No, I don’t really have time right now, but my Mom bothers me about it every time we talk. When she asks when I’m going to have a grandchild I just ask her what nationality she would like.”

Man from Seoul (서울 출신의 남자) 36x24 Mixed Media on Canvas

We head out to burritos for like the 10^th time. Afterwards we stop by Hak’s friends place in the Tenderloin. A____ is a young painter still in school and has lofty dreams of moving to New York after school. His studio is like many artist studios I have visited in the Tenderloin, drenched in stale cigarette smoke, rows of empty liquor bottles, and a kitchenette doubling as a work space. He rolls up a joint and passes it around. It is a place that dreams are made and crushed, some place both Hak and I have been before. The young artist’s studio is a lonely and sacred place filled with uncertainty. We talk about life and art and school and the people we know.

“Just stick with it and you’ll be okay A____.” It’s the same advice I’ve been given a million times.

The last few months of my life have been fairly chaotic. There have been several curveballs thrown my way and I seem to always load up and swing at nothing but air. Hak’s visit is a welcome reprieve to my daily routine and the anxieties which plague my mind. When we paint together, all I really focus on is the next move, the next painting. A culmination of all the skills I have acquired and have yet to learn. It is a familiar place, a place I am comfortable, the need to produce under restraints and a tight deadline. It feels good to know that I have an art brother who’s going through the same exact things as I am across the sea.

5 Days Left to Go (떠난지 5 일 남았습니다) 36x24 Mixed Media on Canvas

We head out to the MoMa, we visit the De Young, and we stop by several gallery shows. Friends, family, and collectors stop by and say hello at the studio. We eat more burritos than I am happy to admit and the work comes fast and easily. We talk about the work during breaks, about the composition, layout, and balance. We talk about things that we intend to do or sometimes we just do them. We stop when we need to and we smoke too many cigarettes.

I’ve come to realize that there are no easy ways through life. As I grow older and life continues, there are only more responsibilities and more constraints. Life becomes a fight between work and personal life. And the older I get, the only certainty is death. A life of memories only dictated by what you put into it. The painting will be made no matter what, good or bad, it is the process and the time in between that really counts.

The week passes by quickly and soon enough the week is up. We stop by the studio one last time. We touch up, measure, sign, and name the paintings. We head over to Hak’s favorite Thai place in the Tenderloin for our last meal. I’m just glad it isn’t Mexican.

Flower Curtain (꽃 커튼) 30x24 Mixed Media on Canvas

“Did you enjoy your stay here? I’m sorry that we didn’t do more fun stuff.”

“It was the perfect trip, I did everything I wanted to do.”

We go back home and he packs up his stuff and I drop him off at the airport. I tell him I’ll try to sell the paintings as best I can, but you can never really tell with these things.

“Don’t worry about that. The paintings are good.”

“I’ll try to take a trip out to Korea next summer.”

“Ok. Thank you for everything Daniel. I will see you soon.”

The Artists in the Studio (스튜디오의 아티스트)

When I get home, the house is filled with sounds of celebration. My brother has invited friends and family over for his birthday and there is a feeling of warmth and comfort. It feels good to be done with the long week of endless painting. I have a flight to catch myself later that night and I settle in to some whiskey and banter. I hug and chat with friends, some who I’ve known for my whole life and it makes me happy to be in their company.

It might be the whiskey talking, but I feel overly sentimental and have a conversation about my personal life with a friend, something which rarely happens.

“What happened to S_____?”

“Nothing, just didn’t work out.” I pause for a moment. “Sometimes people just want different things. I love her to death, but it’s just not the way things were meant to be.”

“I thought you guys would work it out, you seemed to want things to work out. You’ve never tried particularly hard in relationships, until it was with her.”

I don’t know how to particularly reply to so I just say something stupid like, “There are plenty of fish in the sea.”

Waiting in Ambush (매복에서 기다리고있다) 48x36 Mixed Media on Canvas

I tell my brother “happy birthday”, grab my bags and a friend drops me off for my redeye. I have another whiskey at the airport bar and barely make it through takeoff. I wake up in a different country, in a different timezone, as a different person.  I make my way to my childhood home and say hello to my parents. We go visit my grandma who’s been in the hospital and not feeling too well. It’s nice to just sit with her while I write this story and reflect on the last few weeks. We don’t speak much, but I know that she likes it when I just sit around with her. She asks if I have a new girlfriend.

“No Grandma, no new girlfriend.”

“What happened to the last girl.”

“We’re still friends.”

“Well, then just forget about it.”

“Ok I’ll do that.”

“You should have a kid soon.”

“That’s not just up to me.”

As I’m sitting here writing this story I get a phone call from a number I haven’t seen in a long time. I step outside and answer the phone.

“Hello Daniel.”

“Hey.”

“How are you?”

“I’m in Taiwan, visiting my family. It’s nice to hear your voice.”

In 8 days, so much of life has changed.

Flowers in the Mouth of A Beast (짐승의 입에 꽃) 48x36 Mixed Media on Canvas

Going Off Grid

I've recently had a very serious health scare. So much so that it severely impacted all other aspects of my career and life, the anxiety always seeping into the back of my mind. I never thought much about my health and have indulged in all earthly pleasures without much pause to consequence and long term health risks. I've always somewhat believed that I was invincible, able to skirt through any hardships in life without the fear of death. And as I make my turn through my 30s, it's becoming more and more clear that I've got to really slow down on some things. I don't view this as necessarily an altogether bad thing, it just means now that I have to have a healthier respect for life.

As I have chased my two careers in the past decade, things have slowly picked up and I've found a little bit of success in each path. I've always loved challenges and each of the things I've chosen to do has forced me to constantly find creative solutions to problems. They've also taught me that no matter how much time, preparation, dedication, and desire you put into something, sometimes things just don't work out.

I am now able to coach high school water polo year round. I get to work with great student athletes and push their abilities and personal fortitudes to their greatest potential. Like with art, I put in everything I've got trying to motivate not only the kids, but myself as a coach and role model. How do I want these kids to grow up? What type of men and characteristics am I imparting on these teenagers on the precipice of adulthood? I am able to share formative years with these boys and to show them things that you can't really learn in a class room.

There are very selfish aspects to coaching. I feel like it keeps me young, fit, and hip to young people slang. It's a job that lets me release adrenaline, testosterone, and my deep need for competition, which I used to relinquish in other, more destructive manners. But with all forms of competition, it isn't always just wins and sunshine and rainbows. With every season, I have a pretty good idea of the potential of the team and have to tweak the team's playbook and training methods dependent on the athletes skill and ability levels. I spend endless hours preseason setting up tournaments, games, plays, and practices schedules. I prep and prep and prep prior to the season, in hopes of the maximum outcome to the season's schedule.

I love what I do. The pay certainly doesn't match up to my dedication at the moment, but that's how love and passion work. I've given up bachelor parties, weekend getaways, girlfriends, and countless weekends to coach tournaments. I've sacrificed so much for this sport in the hopes that I'm somewhat making a difference in a kid's life.

 It's been a very hard season. As much as I prepared, practiced, and trained with the athletes, it's been a very disappointing run. The first year I coached we were winless in league. This year, after a 10 year career, we have again gone winless in league. There were several factors which affected the team, but nothing I can put the blame on but myself. It's been such a bad season that I've actually considered my coaching career, maybe it's me that has lost touch.

Along with the health scare, it's really forced me to reevaluate the choices I've made personally and career wise. Sometimes love is not enough. Passion is not enough. It's the same thing with relationships and with women. Experiencing loss is something that everyone has to deal with. The difference I've found is how an individual deals with it. I don't think of myself as a quitter and sometimes the gods just aren't with you despite how much preparation and dedication you've put into anything. That's just life.

As the art career as taken off, the coaching and health have taken a slide. You just can't win everything and it's taken a long time to understand and come to terms with that. At some points I've wanted to scream and explode and unleash all the fury that lies just bubbling beneath the surface. I've wanted to just be destructive again and go back to the anger that I've been so comfortable with for so much of my young adulthood. It would be so easy just to let everything slide. But what type of man would I be? What type of man do I still want to become given a limited amount of time?

I've finally learned that my time is precious and limited. The people and friends I surround myself with has only expanded as I know that keeping an open mind and open heart is what gives my life meaning and fulfillment. I want to keep learning. I want to keep experiencing. I want to know that I can keep staying the course despite hardships. Sometimes failure and loss and disappointment are just a part of life, but maybe sometimes you have just got to walk away from things. Like a punched out boxer that just doesn't know when to walk away from the sport, I'm at a cross road.

For the next few days, I'll be going into the woods and going off the grid. I feel like I've been going and going and sometimes I've given so much to everything else that I've really let my personal life go. Maybe I'll just never come back. Maybe I've been blinded by my need for success. Maybe I'll never come back. Only time will tell.

Happy Hour till Close

"Looking In, Looking Out" Mixed Media on Canvas 60x48 2015





“I’m still in love with her.”

Jack nodded, it was a rant that he heard about 100 times before. “I know man.”

“You don’t understand, Jack. I messed up. It was my fault.”

“Well, at least you can admit it.”

“I’m going to get her back.”

“How do you suppose you’re going to do that Sam? That’s not how that works. She left you man.”

“I’ll wait for her. I’ll do anything for her” Sam said as he pulled at the last of his beer. They had been drinking since happy hour and Sam showed it. His face was sallow and he was in the same work clothes that he had been wearing all week. He looked like a sad puppy dog that had been kicked one too many times.

“You think I don’t understand? After all that bullshit that just went down with me and Suzy?” Jack paused for a moment. “Listen… it happens to everybody, it’s not like you’re the first person to have ever been hurt. It’s not easy. I know, but you’ve got to pull it together.”

“You’re a different type of person than I am Jack. You’re okay being single and dating around. You’re good with girls. I’m different. I’ll never get a girl like her again.”

“Well that’s exactly your problem, if that’s your attitude about things, things will never get better.

They were sitting at the back corner of their neighborhood bar in the Richmond. They both worked corporate jobs and although they both ended their relationships recently, Jack was doing quite a bit better than Sam. They met in grad school and moved in together afterwards, both worked in tech and were bachelors in their 30s.

Jack was a single child, the only son and spoiled with attention from birth. Life of the party and social he was everything Sam was not. Sam was from a middle class family with 3 siblings, shy, reserved and hard working, he had always been more bound to work and studies.

Sam got up from his seat wobbly.

“I’m going to use the pisser.”

“Don’t you fucking call her man.”

“I’m not going to call her. Can you get me another round?”

“Yeah.”

Jack walked over to the bar.

“Hey Sally, can we get another round?”

“Yeah sure Jack, how’s Sam doing?”

“Not too great, I can’t get his mind off things.”

“I saw his girl in here last weekend with a group of boys.”

“Well make sure you don’t go telling him that. Better yet, it might be time for us to find another bar.”

“You still seeing Suzy?”

“No we broke up, you want to go out with me tomorrow?”

“Don’t be a fool Jack.”

Jack walked back to the seats with the beers where he found Sam on his phone.

“Are you texting her?”

Sam didn’t answer.

“Jesus, put the phone away.”

Sam put his phone down, his eyes were red and he muttered thanks as he grabbed a beer from Jack.

“Remember the time back in school when we were dating those two girls on Shasta?”

“Yeah I remember” Sam replied with a faint smile. “Those were good times weren’t they?”

“We never called them before 12 and they always made us food, smoked us out and let us crash.”

“You still talk to Anna?”

“No last I heard she was married with a kid. Dorothy?”

“Nah, not since school. You ever think about past girls?”

“Yeah of course I do, I definitely miss Suzy’s body….”

“Not like that, like I mean do you ever wish you would have settled down with one of them?”

Jack thought for a moment. “No never really. Not like that. Things end for a reason don’t they? Sometimes things just don’t work out. Can I imagine myself with a wife and kids right now? Absolutely not. They were great girls, but I’m happy with being by myself. There’s so much I still want to do and having a girlfriend, much less a wife or kids would definitely put an end to that.”

“I wanted to marry her Jack. I was prepared to ask her parents.”

“Well, things didn’t work out that way did they?” Jack said exasperated. “Look Sam, she was a great girl and she was a lot of fun and smart with a great job and all that. But fuck her man. Fuck her. She’s gone and the sooner you accept that fact and move on. The better it will be for you.”

“Stop, just stop.”

“I love you man, I just don’t think you should put yourself through this over and over again.”

Sam rubbed at a vertical scar on the inside of his right forearm. They both sipped at their beers in silence for a few minutes. Both knowing that their stances on the subject were vastly different and that no matter how hard either tried to convince the other, they would stand their ground.

“Are you alright Sam?”

“Yeah I’m alright.”

“Time heals everything.”

“That’s cheesy, Jack.”

“It’s true, however you feel about it.”

Sam thought for a moment before he spoke. “Sometimes when I’m driving, I just want to swerve the car hard into oncoming traffic.”

“What the fuck man.”

“It’s not like I would actually go through with it. It’s just a thought that runs through my brain sometimes.”

“Don’t say shit like that.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

"You just can't go about saying things like that."

"I was just joking."

“Sam I don’t want to go through what happened in December again.”

“That will never happen again.”

“I don’t want to have to see you do that again Sam. Listen to me. You’ve got a lot going on for you. You’ve got your dream job, we’re making stupid money, and we live in this beautiful city… a lot of people care about you.”

“It was just that one time.”

“Promise me that it won't ever happen again”

“I promise.”

"Promise?"

"I said I promise."

“Damnnit Sam. There’s more to life…” Jack didn’t finish his sentence.

They sat through the rest of their beers in silence, knowing that nothing had been resolved and nothing was ever going to be the same again.