Hello,
You may be wondering why there is a number #2 in the title. I skipped #1. I am posting the same title on Substack. Since there is a penalty for posting the same article, I am posting the odd numbered articles on Substack and the even numbered articles on my personal website.
If you are curious about my Substack, you can go to the link below.
The reason I decided to write for Substack was because I thought I could hang out in a place where there were people like me. I am a writer who is also a painter. Please forgive me for daring to call myself a writer when I have never made money from writing and have never made money from drawing. Before, when people asked me what I do, I would just blurt it out. I didn't know what to call myself.
But now, I've decided to spend the rest of my life as a writer/painter, and my daily routine is actually filled with writing and drawing. If we define what I do with my time is what I am, then I think it's okay to say that I'm a writer because I'm a person who creates a story everyday.
Photo by Christine Bae The place I used to write
But like all artists in the world, it's boring to play alone. I look around and I don't see anyone like me at least in my neighborhood. Most ordinary people probably don't bother to wake up at dawn and sit at their desks to write. For me, that life is a motivation to look forward to tomorrow morning, but other people don't understand.
When I tell a story I came up with yesterday to a friend I see occasionally in the neighborhood, she looks at me like I'm rambling on and on. I just need empathy, and I don't need her to understand completely what the theme of my novel is about. All I need is someone to listen to me.
She's itching to chat about the everyday issues in the neighborhood, but I've got a story in my head that I'm desperate to talk about.
There is no need to force others to understand my expectations of them, we can just go find someone else I want to hang out with. It doesn't necessarily have to be a human friend.
That doesn't mean I'm going to post my novel on Substack and you have to read it. I'm not going to post my fiction on Substack.
I'm just going to tell you a story about day-to-day occurrences. It's the story of an ordinary, everyday life of an artist who is neither famous nor successful. It's the story of a person who lives as an unknown writer/painter who's nobody, who's not worth knowing.
Photo by Christine Bae Christinebae.com
In the world of money and reality, people who pursue ideals always have an empty space in their hearts, don't they?
Sometimes questions like these arise: Am I the only one who lives like this? Should I live like most people? In that confusion, if there is something that holds me up each day, I think it's my own routine and the sense of security that there are people like me out there somewhere;
What a wonderful world we live in now. We can find like-minded people with just one click. The YouTube algorithm is incredibly good at finding my interests and showing me recommended videos.
Photo by Christine Bae Christine Bae's Youtube Channel
I used to be a YouTube addict, but I prefer to communicate through writing. Long-form writing, at that. Writing that has a storyline makes my brain work harder and makes my eyes twinkle more. Because of the nature of my job, which involves abstract thinking, writing is something that implants logic into my brain otherwise full of vague smog. That's why I can't give up those two things.
Substack is a place where people whose tastes can be perceived as old fashioned gather. People ask, “Who reads books these days?” “Who writes these days?” But the people there still believe in the value of it. They're the ones who still love long-breathed writing and still believe in journalism
These days, short-form is the trend, and short-form videos are popular on YouTube and Instagram. In a world where there are many audiences who expect videos to be no longer than 30 seconds, there are people who write long articles that are 5 minutes long.
Are we the ones who create boring, unpopular content? Are we the ones who can't keep up with the times and are conservatives who insist that the old days were better?
When times change, there is always an era where the old and the new coexist. When you are at that crossroads, you don't know whether to stay or switch. Then the current gets stronger and the waves of the trend swallow up those who stayed.
Will people like us be the ones who don't notice the rising tide and stay there? Will we later find out that our belief that we were simply outsiders was wrong and that we were eventually losers? As history goes, we never know at the time.
Photo by Christine Bae
But still, if you can't let go of this old-fashioned taste, let's call it love. Think about it. When you were young, if you were asked, "Why do you love him?", could you give a precise reason? You just like him because you like him.
Even though he is not rich and doesn't have an expensive car, I love him because I enjoy spending time with him. If I could explain it logically, it wouldn't be love. Because when you fall in love with someone, you are already blinded by him.
How beautiful is this love? How pure is this love?
In a world where everyone is measured by material things, it is a blessing to be able to love someone unconditionally.
The story of how I started writing on Substack has now turned into a love story. What a foolish writting!
In conclusion, I would like to end with the question: Would you also support the daily life and writings of an unknown artist who is in a foolish love?
Whenever I come to this cafe to write, it always clears up after the rain. Today it was raining heavily until dawn, and now it's a clear, crisp morning.
Today, I arrived late at the cafe and the window seat I usually sit at was already taken by someone else. Instead, I was lucky enough to sit next to a bookshelf full of books.
Here's a photo to commemorate today.
Photo by Christiene Bae The seat next to bookshelf
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