Tag Archives: Cat
Beach Cat
Chojang-dong and Daewonsa 대원사
Cities on the Han
Saturday, September 26. Seoul to Chunju along the Namhangang bike path.
I take the night Mugunghwa train to Seoul. I arrive at 4:30 am and begin biking south towards the Han. I pass the high walls of the American military base, and the Dragon Hill neighborhood.
I reach the river sometime after 5am.
A Haetae 獬豸near Hangang Bridge.
As I cross the bridge, I hear a siren and look back. A small convoy of emergency vehicles enter the bridge behind me. They drive slowly. I dismount my bike and walk to the edge of the bridge. The water below is an empty field of darkness framed by a constellation of hovering window lights kept on by an army of hardworking Koreans.
From around an island, an emergency response speedboat floats quickly in my direction. It scans the water with a searchlight. They seem to be looking for someone.
I travel east. The sun begins to uncover the city.
Twenty seven bridges cross the Han in Seoul.
Up ahead the unfinished Lotte World Tower rises in the morning haze.
Kilometers beyond the capital, camouflaged creatures meet me at the banks of the Han.
A city on the Han.
Gun emplacements guarding the waterway against possible northern aggression.
Lunch time. A cat and bikers outside a cafe near Paldang Bridge 八堂大橋.
Plenty of small roadkill along the path.
Railroad tunnels turned into bike tunnels.
Camels in the Korean wilderness.
Nationalist trees.
Trees with tiny purple pumpkins.
Jangseung 長承 and Sotdae at Ipobo weir.
Jangseung in twisted anguish doing their best to keep demons at bay.
The day ends at Chungju Tangeumdae, about 120 km from Paldang Bridge.
catman in seomyeon
cat in the red light
русский кот
the fat cat of seomyeon yeok
Sunday April 8
Stolen camera, glaciers, cowboy plays for Korean boys and girls.
January 16, 2012. Woke up before dawn to finish my wild west script for the kids I teach. Skyped with my dad about Patagonia glaciers, sailboat adventures across the Pacific, train rides through Russia, bike touring across Asia…
Learned that my mom’s Nikon D70 camera got stolen in Valparaiso. Doesn’t surprise me. I tell a lot of the people I meet not to visit Chile because of lo mala clase que alguna gente es. According to my mom, who tends to pepper a lot of her narratives with Latin American magical realism, she was dragged up some stairs in the struggle. It was probably true. She’s mostly sad about the pictures in her camera. Any photographer would be.
Then I laid to sleep while half watching Fincher’s Se7en.