Thailand

in between worlds

I want to welcome my new subscribers and apologize to subscribers, both new and sustaining, for the longer than usual silence since my last post. I have been in Thailand, for three weeks, visiting my brother, and his Thai wife. We travelled from Pattaya, through Jomtien and Rayong to the island of Koh Chang. I have never been to South East Asia, nor to any part of the other side of the world. As I write this, I am noticing that the floaty feeling I have had since arriving back to upstate New York is still there. I am between worlds, peering into the mist and waiting for words to come. So this won’t be a typical post, although, as always, I will make my way to art.

Inwardly, I have been as speechless as well. I am even reluctant to press for words of description, not wanting to shape or define my impressions, although some do come, and rest or dance across my mind. Motorcycles, flying in toward us from many directions, seemingly without any order or logic. A motorcycle driven by a father, his sweet toddler sleeping against him, oblivious to the chaos around him and sandwiched by his mother whose arms wrap both him and his father. A woman passenger flexing her foot so that her sling high heel doesn’t drop off as she rides. Three on a motorcycle, each with a cell phone, including the driver. Bright pink helmets with cat ears, but mostly no helmets at all. And me, on the back of my brother’s bike, whizzing through the streets, and enjoying the wind in my face, wondering, unconcerned, where my fear went.

Before I began my journey, I pictured a kind of painting retreat. I saw myself painting in the cooler mornings and exploring in the afternoon. It didn’t quite work out like that, partly because I was using acrylics, which I don’t like, and partly because it was hard to slow my mind down to settle on a scene.

Rereading that last sentence-slowing down my mind-doesn’t seem quite right. Its more that the forms and doings of my life in Ithaca had been upended. My usual routine is to paint in the mornings and see my clients in the afternoon. The rhythm is soothing for me, and stimulating. Entering the right side of my mind balances the peering and venturing of dialogue with my clients.

In Thailand, my routine was disrupted. I was open and disconcerted. My paints weren’t working the way I wanted them to (I love the layers and transparency of oils; blending, merging and obscuring form) since I don’t have competency with acrylics. But also, there was no need to balance dialogue and right brained exploration. I hate to think of painting as a sort of compensation, but there it is. In my Ithaca life my painting is a kind of delving into partly formed thoughts; a departure from more cognitive activities. In Thailand, all of that was swept away. One morning, as I was waking to take a swim, I noticed something was missing. What is it? I pondered. Then it became clear. Tension.

I don’t mean to suggest that Thailand is without any negative; I am only referring to my own personal experience, and just parts of it. As any traveller knows, a journey to another country can tell you as must about your own country as the country to which you’ve travelled.

Snippets and partly formed thoughts:

Americans can treat customer service people so poorly, so antagonistically-demanding what they want and accustomed to a culture that teaches the customer is always right. In Thailand, I noticed that when a clerk or receptionist doesn’t have what you want, they simply say no.

Americans are riddled with prejudices. We don’t like fat people, disabled people, different people. I feel like when you see people’s bodies in America, I mean just ordinarily out and about-clothed bodies, it is possible to detect shame and embarrassment in posture and attitude. I didn’t see this in Thailand. Chunky women seemed comfortable in their bodies, not like they were doing something a little wrong. I also noticed, on a couple of occasions, a disabled person integrated and participating in family life as part of the group, not as a person who is designated as different. It’s hard to justify this comment, it was just a sense, but there was such an ok ness in the attitudes of the Thai people around these things. I’m curious if others who have visited Thailand have the same impression.

When I was riding back through upstate New York, escorted by my lovely nephew, I was struck by the pristine landscapes of my own home. So different, and right now, so cold, but also so beautiful. I found myself looking around with interest at the houses and farms and rolling hills as if I were a foreigner, and very grateful that the cars stayed in their lanes! I don’t want to say more now, because I am afraid to prematurely crystalize my experiences, but suffice to say, I am overjoyed to witness this multifaceted world of ours, and I carry a secret optimism that we will, as a species, ultimately honor it.