02.26.1999
I want to feel all there is to feel, he thought. Let me feel tired, now, let me feel tired. I mustn't forget, I'm alive, I know I'm alive, I mustn't forget it tonight or tomorrow or the day after that. In Ray Bradbury's 1957 novel Dandelion Wine, 12-year-old Douglas Spaulding discovers that he is… Continue reading on being alive
It's a dream of mine to be published one day. But fiction writing is something I've never really done before; though I try to write creatively on this blog, it's much easier to write about my own experiences than to create a miniature world with its own characters, settings, and plot from nothing. Thankfully, a… Continue reading reflecting on my first fiction writing workshop
There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says ‘Morning, boys. How's the water?’ And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes ‘What… Continue reading finding amsterdam in san diego
I think an interesting film is something that you can—you can have an aftertaste. Sometimes when you look at the film, you might not get it at the first time, but somehow it lingers. - Wong Kar Wai I love Lee Chang Dong's work. In light of his new upcoming film Possible Love releasing this… Continue reading reflections on Lee Chang Dong’s “Burning”
To film someone is to fall in love with that person. I liked reading ever since I was little. Once I had a book all to myself, my heart would start racing. I always felt that way. When I have a paper and pen, I feel better for no apparent reason; drawing when I was… Continue reading a film idea
If you don’t love somebody, it gets annoying when they tell you what to do or what to feel. When you love them you get pleasure from their pleasure, and it makes it easy to serve.- Donald Miller, “Blue Like Jazz” When it comes to God, I feel like a parrot. I can easily talk… Continue reading reflections on God’s love for me
A man walks out of the pizza shop. He’s in his mid-forties, wearing a baggy t-shirt and jorts—not in a deliberate, tasteful, Gen-Z type of way, but in the third-generation-hand-me-down, these are the first pants I saw in my drawer when I woke up this morning kind of way. He has a shuffly, waddling gait;… Continue reading imagebearer
after Franz Wright The venue empties slowly then all at once, the way summer evenings do. Like a scene from a stop-motion film, the last guests filter out beneath the California sycamore trees in glimpses, illuminated in frames by the amber string lights hanging overhead. Only the bride and groom remain. They turn slowly together… Continue reading evening journey
Sometimes in life one feels a feeling of wanting to quit. Chubby me, wanting nothing more than to be loved and accepted and perceived as cool, was selected to write a research report on the puffin. Not the apex majesty of the peregrine falcon (which was given to Danny), nor the slick danger of the… Continue reading amazing puffins
It's a World Cup summer. I caught the game—Korea vs. Czechia—alone in my room, having missed a chunk of the first half already. I watched with bated breath. When Korea scored the equalizer, I was happy, but I didn't jump out of my seat in pure elation, and I didn't scream with joy. When the… Continue reading to you, 20 years from now
