Seoul is an immaculate wonderland. It is, when its massive size and population considered, an extremely clean city. Even in the most densely populated areas you rarely see trash, and if you do, it momentarily will be swept up. The city is, an addition to its cleanliness, very stylized. The buildings that shoot up in the sky and curve like hips out and around, shooting neon lights all the while, clearly are made with aesthetics in mind.
And beyond the extravagantly modern architecture, this feeling of "kept-ness" and constant grooming pervades every arena of life. Take for example, a walk down a sidewalk on a major thorough-fare. You may walk on cement bricks, or you may glide along smoothly and almost bouncily on the rubber cement most commonly found under playgrounds to cushion any falls from the monkey bars.
In my apartment, I have been confronted with the difficulty of making a stark, sterile, shining place my home. While it is nice to have new appliances and desks, walls and counter tops, it is also very institutional. Instead of the soft sinking feeling one expects when entering a home, I feel as if I might be cut on the perfect, razor sharp edge of my door. Or the filth of my feet might forever taint the whiteness of my floor.
So, I have heard, that when your home feels too much like a cell, too clean, too man-made, you must bring nature to it. Although I have minimal natural light, I do possess a florescent light that is reminiscent of a sky light on Mercury, and it is rumored that bamboo has incredible survival techniques that allow it to live with not much light and not much maintenance and not much love. And so, all my faith in the creation of home is going into two small sticks of this panda treat.
- Carly Pifer
- Born and raised under the Los Angeles sun and smog. At sixteen spent some time in LA County Juvenile Detention Center, although never really learned her lesson. Moved to Boston for the classic college experience. Spray painted graffiti in the Paris Metro during six month stay in the Marais. Survived an ultra fabulous and frightening internship at Vogue Magazine while living at a nunnery in Hell's Kitchen. Lived a year in Seoul, a city which can only be compared to a Disneyland theme park. Written four hundred sixty-four words of an undisclosed masterpiece novel. Currently pondering her next adventure and also the meaning of her memoirs from an artist's loft in dirty Brooklyn.