I’m writing from an undisclosed hostel in the undisclosed little India district of undisclosed Singapore. Due to a series of unfortunate events, I’ve been displaced from my home in Korea on a perma-temporary basis. I suppose every American should feel the bite of unrealistic immigration law; it’s not fun. When will the world learn that everyone is really ok, me especially?
Despite the hoops of immigration law, the choice was given me and it was simple: Work full-time, 5 or 6 days a week getting throttled by a mutant strand of kindergarteners. Or don’t. I choose don’t. Don’t yet, anyway. I’m not hungry enough.
 Instead, I’m searching Asia for a place of solace and creative energy. Realistically speaking, it’s India. An obvious choice. From there, I will put the pen to paper and begin anew. Futhermore, I know what the words that the ink from the pen that writes on the paper will be about. I feel positive enough to go to India with it, so we’ll see what happens.
Indian photobook in 6months?
 ~HD