April 24, 2024

soft serve is self respect

In 2021 I made old dreams making way for new and it was the most popular thing I published all year. Old friends wrote in. Strangers shared it on the twtter.

Today in 2024, a little loose journal below. Share it with a friend who might like it. Remember to dig out your guts when the barrel gets dirty.

“I think that maybe if we can guard ourselves and each other, if we can keep from losing our minds alone in quiet rooms and can at least lose them side by side, we may live through the year.” —Eve L. Ewing, from “Thursday Morning, Newbury Street” in Electric Arches

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December 28, 2022

love lost, mercy won

New photo poem today on the extreme sport of finding love in the city. Starting with a palate cleanser: an excerpt from Joy Harjo's "The Path to the Milky Way Leads Through Los Angeles":

We matter to somebody,

We must matter to the strange god who imagines us as we revolve together in the dark sky on the path to the Milky Way.

We can’t easily see that starry road from the perspective of the crossing of boulevards, can’t hear it in the whine of civilization or taste the minerals of planets in hamburgers.

But we can buy a map here of the stars’ homes, dial a tone for dangerous love, choose from several brands of water or a hiss of oxygen for gentle rejuvenation.

Thanks to my supporters for enabling my art. Paid or free, you can subscribe here to receive monthlyish updates on my creative work.

June 13, 2022

love in the time of ambition

Today's visual poem: another to file away into the loose canon formed by the strange medical condition that is ‘young, hot, and single in new york city,’ as put by an ex coworker. Symptoms: to be young and distraught. Cure: to clutch the unbearable lightness of being, buoyed by transient glows, anchored by depths unseen.

For the best reading experiences on these — take an extra minute and take it slow, reread a couple times, let the mind simmer. Poetry demands sincere attention.

A snack to prepare the palate for today:

To say homeboy, daydream, decanter, meadowland, rhythm.
To say anything.
    To listen to the sum of every silence.
    To give a name to the space full of promise.
    And then to fall silent.

—Yuri Herrera, Kingdom Cons

Thanks to my supporters for enabling my art. Paid or free, you can subscribe here to receive monthlyish updates on my creative work.

June 6, 2022

love on the west

What do you do when you have people you love who live 3,000 miles away? You go see them. You receive their love and wonder at the grace to know it. You indulge in vibez. Below — a letter to my past month out west and a small tribute to Seattle, Portland, SF, LA and their beautiful inhabitants. (Also a response to my mother recently asking me 什么是 vibe? Translated: what is vibe? Answer: This is viiibe.)

Thanks to my supporters for enabling my art. Paid or free, you can subscribe here to receive monthlyish updates on my creative work.

April 4, 2022

love is…?

"An adventure time was, if you calmed yourself to its receipt."
—Adam Haslett, Union Atlantic

Hi, friends.

The world and our hearts are still at war and it shows no signs of ceasing. Madness. Calling for artists to give language and sign and tribute to terrible times.

But art is hard. Hearts are harried. Who has time to receive the adventure of time?

These past weeks I did things like pick up a peanut butter chocolate chip cookie at a bake sale for Ukraine. Watch Questlove's spirited Summer of Soul, Taylor Swift's raw folklore studio sessions, Min Jin Lee's epic Pachinko. Play Connect 4 at a dive bar. Sip lambrusco at a pizza bar. Twirl in a dance bar. Loosen the creative impulses otherwise held taut by the demands of daily work. Till the soil for new seedlings.

With that, a little illustrated photo poem on love, life, and labor.

Thanks to my supporters for enabling my art. Paid or free, you can subscribe here to receive monthlyish updates on my creative work.

October 12, 2021

old dreams making way for new

Sharing a little illustrated photo poem: the fruit of a transitional season between work and homes, inspired by Weiwei Hsu's comic log So.. Where's Home?.

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"The photos that resulted are notably different from what we might ordinarily think of as photojournalism: they are dynamic but are not the action-packed singles of the kind that win photojournalism prizes. There is something far more patient at work in them. We feel that the photographer has not so much captured a “decisive moment” as gained us admission into private moments of long duration. Many of the images project the longueurs that are, after all, a substantial part of regular life: unhurried, unharried, the part of life that isn’t caught up in working for pay, the part of life that is a straight catalogue of the passing minutes." —Teju Cole, Known and Strange Things

Credits

*Eugene H. Peterson
**Friedrich Nietzsche
***J. R. R. Tolkien

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