These days I often find myself reminiscing about my “old” career as a museum/ cultural worker. I really don’t get it why people look at me in disbelief when I mention the word “cultural worker.” I guess the first thing that comes to mind is of a Japayuki dancing in one of the seedy bars in the Roppongi district of Tokyo. They just settle down when I add the term “Museum,” but still it’s funny how they interpret it as being merely a ‘tour guide.”
As a cultural worker—particularly in the field of museum education, it’s quite fulfilling since I get to teach about art, its history and concepts, and learn as well from professional historians and art practitioners. Art is still the continuing influence in my life, from the visual arts to prose and poetry. I breathe it and like a fish out of water, I need to get back into the pond and start living it again. I do wish that God would let me return.
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