keep on flowing
Before I was born, my parents drove across Canada in a VW bus. Based on stories, Vancouver's Chinatown was a highlight of their trip — especially an authentic meal that they ordered by pointing at other people's food because the menu was in Chinese. The souvenirs from their trip, at least those that lingered around the house for decades, included Chinese art. In particular, a bamboo scroll featuring a rural chinese landscape, much like this one, hung in our home and was probably my favorite piece of art in the house.
❧
In one of my first apartments, I covered the bare bulb above my bed with a pretty Chinese paper parasol featuring a pretty image of birds and bamboo. I cut the handle down using a kitchen knife, added an eye bolt, and hung it to diffuse the light. Then, randomly, I ended up with red sheets and a yellow blanket. I also read a slew of books set in Asia at around that time, some of which still count among my favorites (including The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck and Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress by Dai Sijie). And Japanese is one of my favorite cuisines.
❧
I honestly don't know where my attraction to Asian culture originated from. It's not something that I conscientiously cultivated. I maintain that my attraction to Asian culture is coincidental, organic, and unpretentious, despite all the evidence that suggests otherwise. On that note, please ignore that, as I write this post, I'm reminded that the Gmail theme I gravitated towards features cute ninjas (see below), I'm listening to the Yoshida Brothers, and I'm eating an Asian pear.
And those of you that know me well can probably come up with other, even more obvious, evidence. I will undoubtedly argue that it is inconclusive, at best. While I might be an egg, I'll vehemently deny having a serious case of "yellow fever".
❧
Last weekend, we watched the new Karate Kid movie which, notwithstanding the name, is about Kung Fu. The movie rekindled my interest in martial arts films (more evidence against my case) and I subsequently watched Iron Monkey and Enter the Dragon. Watching the latter, Bruce Lee's last film, satisfied my kung fu movie craving, but only served to heighten my interest in Bruce Lee. Oh boy.
An recent email from my brother in-law (in-law? he's my husband's sister's husband... how does that work?) included a link to The Lost Interview, an interview of Bruce Lee by Pierre Berton in 1971.
The interview served to highlight racist American stereotypes as well as Bruce Lee's honesty, poise, and swoon-inducing hotness (which left me wondering if Bruce Lee made American women in the 70s swoon or if deep-seated racism precluded finding him attractive). Watching Enter the Dragon, it's difficult not to be drawn in by Lee's seemingly genuine charisma, which his great body and smile only complement.
And then, a few days ago, a friend posted a link on Facebook to a site, with one page featuring only this:
Beyond his kung fu talents and his screen presence, I think Lee's greatest legacy might be his outlook on life. Researching some of his famous quotes, many of them resonate but I especially liked this one:
❝Life is wide, limitless. There is no border, no frontier.❞
