This is the adventure that I would have been waiting for, had I known it was a possibility, but because it was never in my possible realm, I never waited for it, because it is better than anything I could have waited for on my own. A small trip to a small place, one that is neither a city nor a state, is the only idea I have for a perfect time away from the things I know, and a perfect opportunity to be many things at once, in a city that is a state also, even when it is not.

This is my 28th birthday , and the time when things that are a millennium old will be remembered on my own skin. I don’t have any debts, and I don’t have any regrets, that I did not collect without good reasons for collecting them, and because I accept their weight, they are light, and this is another reason why I am not waiting. I write, because calligraphy is how these things work on each other, the skin takes to the ink, and the pen touches the human being where they are centered, and we each write each other when there is nothing left, no time and no heart.

This is a heartbeat here, however, one rediscovered, not between China and Japan, not seeking a birth in either place, but somewhere Chinese food is served, and on the streets of Singapore, looking for the history of reinventions and finding evidence everywhere of how I came to be. This is a birthday, this is the first birthday where I did not have to please a guest, and I was not responsible for anyone else’s happiness, and there was no one waiting for me. This is how a year begins, and in this place, with these words, and this skin, it is just right.

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3. Singapore’s Art Buddha
4. Belly Dance in Singapore
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