A Loose Battery and an Old Alarm Clock
the other day I was cleaning my kitchen and saw a loose battery in a pouch full of miscellaneous stuff. I wondered if it was a new battery or an old one, and started to browse the rest of the shelf to see if anything was in need of a single battery. then, I spotted my analog alarm clock. I've had this clock since I was in middle school. When I was 12 or 13 I got it at a stationery store called ArtBox in Seoul, and kept it at my desk to see the hours pass as I studied for my exams. as for the alarm, there was nothing like the analog, sharp metallic trill that jolted me out of my deep sleep. I liked it. I liked that it was smiling, and as a lot of Korean stationery did, it had the word "dream" on its face. I brought it over to the states when we immigrated, brought it to my college dorms, and even to all the apartments that I moved to every year since then. and somewhere along the way, the battery died and it stopped working. even then I kept it on my shelf, and in my current apartment of 3 years, it's been collecting dust in a corner I forgot about.
I put in the single battery through the back, where the lid had gone missing. I don't know what would have been a better bet, the loose battery working, or the old clock still functioning after 18 years. but as soon as I clicked the battery in, i heard the tick of the needle. I smiled and reached for the back, to adjust the time. alexa, what time is it? i asked. it's six fourty-two, pm. I looked at the clock. the hands of the clock read 6:42. I didn't have to change anything, because all these years, the clock was stopped at the exact time I had put the battery in. like it was waiting for me, counting down the minutes until I spotted the battery in the pouch, and counting down the seconds until I picked up the clock and put the battery in.
at first, I thought. that's pretty crazy. and moved on. it's been three days since I've been hearing the soft ticking of the clock from my kitchen. this morning I made some breakfast and glanced over and read the word "dream" on the smiling clock. what was my dream anyway, back then? o yes. i remember. when I was 12, my dream was to become an industrial designer. I wanted to design phones and mp3 players. I had a scrap book of interviews and photos from people of design. but knew deep down that a creative field wasn't a path that was paved out for me, or one that would be supported by my family. I don't even think that was the original dream anyway. I likely put the word "industrial" in front of "artist" to justify my creative urges with something practical and what could make money down the line, in hopes to protect the actual underlying dream.
the way the clock picked right back up where it stopped, without changing a thing, it seemed to speak on my life now. i put a long pause to come around to my 'dream.' my dream isn't a goal, it isn't a career. in the purest form it's the creative expression of my own life. and I've gotten so accustomed to releasing this dream in very muted ways for a long time. but I wonder what it would become if I gave it the full support it isn't used to. because now I probably can.
this was a small but significant sign, and I realize I am starting to live and breathe this dream of mine thanks to you guys. all this too say, this morning, thank you, for watching, loving, and supporting cafe maddy.
have a gooood day. ok? :)
