Quarantine diaries, day 4

I managed to practice violin a bit today. I've forgotten how to be patient it seems ahhaha. My teacher texted me to see how I was and told me to stop practicing so much. Oops.

Other that I blogged about my trip but not much else happened. I heard news that the ferries were cancelled. So good thing I was stuck in Vancouver anyway.

It was a lot of coughing today but less sneezing. I finished this short Korean series about two chefs who hate each other but actually like each other. At night I seemed to have lost of my sense of smell.

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The Painted Door - Sinclair Ross (from personal journal)

(Originally posted on 10/1/2009) ( Footsteps in snow. S orry, can't find the photo taken by Wayne R. Bilenduke that was printed in my book. Alternative photo.) I think this is by far the story I have to spend the longest time reading. Mr. Guraliuk was right, this is a very sleep-inducing "short" story. "It goes on and on and on and on… like forever". But, paradoxically, that's what makes it such a brilliant short story. When you read Sinclair Ross's lines, you feel cold. You can imagine the coldness of hard window glass pressing against your fingers as you look out to the freezing white snow-covered endless landscape and long for the person you love to arrive. You can feel your eyelids heavy as you watch the time go by; your heart heavy with sadness and loneliness but still not letting go of that weak hope, the only hope that keeps you still alive amidst the brutal coldness of winter. Of course if you've never been through a cold, white and l...

transience

Recently I heard a youtuber (here be barr) describe New York as a "transient" place. Not many people, especially young people, who move to New York decide to, or can, stay for a long time. They live in the big city for some years, then after experiencing the hype, parties, concerts, or whatever they wish, they move away to buy a house, get married, have children... That made me think about how transient all my life has been. Each city I move to, each apartment I move into, each job I'm offered, is a transient place. My goal has never been to hold onto any of those things, but rather to jump to the next. Which is why I never feel like I belong anywhere, but also I don't have homesickness because the definition of 'home' is so fleeting. There are feelings that resemble being home. Like on the days I have no upcoming deadline or appointment, I just do nothing and stay indoors. Or like when I am so self-confident that I leave work until the last minute knowing ...

21 paradox

Back in January I was scared out of my wits when facing my class 5 driving test. I ended up locking myself out of my car 1 hour before the test so I never made it there to begin with. But I can't forget having nightmares about driving into a ditch, or crashing into a bus, or running over pedestrians. Every time I think about taking that driving test, I can only imagine disasters. Yet, whenever I take the wheel, I feel completely in control. I almost immediately relax and look ahead on the road with confidence. So why is it that when I think about driving, I freak out, but never have I lost control while actually behind the wheel? Back in my teenage years I wrote about how time seems fast and slow to me at different times in the year. Recently, I've experienced this odd feeling where I feel like time passes by slowly, and I want it to pass by more quickly, but at the same I want to be at this point in time forever. The contradictory feeling of being not completely satisfied...

Amy Do Nguyet Anh

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