summer'09 four

As I walked through the rows upon rows of household items (from the cracked ceramic plates situated against the faded plastic bags, to the empty tubes of toothpaste and ragged dolls) of wu jing qu yong/Waste Not, I was struck by how well the images of my own experience paralleled that of the artist. His description of his mother’s background, specifically of how quintessential it was of the generation living under communist rule, made sense of practices that I’ve ridiculed since I was young. I never fully understood the purpose of keeping those extra takeout containers or saving clothes that clearly could not be worn any longer. Criticizing the absurdity of retaining such useless materials never affected my parents either, as evident by their ambiguous retorts and growing piles of crap.

Despite my belief that these actions were characteristic only to my family, seeing the eclectic assortment of his mother’s collection settled something from all those years of questioning practice. Strangely reminiscent of my own home, he exposed that it was not limited to such.

I can now fully comprehend that the action to waste not serves as the remnants of the need for survival.

But I wonder sometimes if life would have been that bad for my parents if they had never left for America. Choice and a better life they always claim in their talks of life here. They say that they escaped communist rule as refugees but the paradox of such opportunity in the States is seemingly hidden in their stories of the “good” life of their respective home countries. What is the meaning of choice and a better life when those euphemisms are reflected in chasing the American dream in the form of hard intensive labor? There are times when the trade off seems unreasonable, but what in my wonderment is to guarantee that they would have had the good life if they had stayed? After my travels and seeing such communist countries inflicted with capitalist principles, I was left to reconsider the negative constructions of these places. But I am blind sighted in that 2009 is not the four decades ago and my position is not one of a native. Perhaps, my romanticized memories of Asia have finally gotten the better of me.



Ironic though, how a change in perspectives can change more than just the perspective.

summer'09 three

Exhaustion..... possibly describes the beginning of this week. On the plane, I held on tightly to the belief that this summer would be uneventful for absurd reasons. But it's starting to look like it might be my busiest...

Even after a week, I'm still recovering from jet lag.

The two suite cases I brought back have been emptied and I've been pondering how so much has happened since last year. At the moment, I'm wondering what Lily Allen means by 'a Chinese' in her song 'Chinese.'

My allergies are returning; I spent five long minutes sneezing my heart out.




The plastic bottle taste of Poland Spring water is comforting, if not concurrently a bit disturbing.
I want to wake up with the sunrise and feel the sand beneath my toes.

summer'09 two

This is my first summer to be able to do absolutely nothing since...junior high school. How strange it feels to have no real obligations.


As much as I claim that I'll move away after graduation, home will always be home. I love sitting in my dining room, hearing the laughter echo from outdoor family dinners and the music remixes blaring from the stereos of someone's car several houses away. I love the eclectic smell of home cooking, the mixture of Indian food and barbecues wafting about in the air. I love listening to the sound of children giggling from the nearby park, as they run around the juggle gym and soar on the swings.


I think I lose interest in things and people too quickly.


like reckless abandonment

summer'09 one

I've been away for so long that I'm not sure if the mailman is the same one I've seen since I was a toddler.

Ridiculous how much the inside jokes are still relevant and how small are our circles really are -- Gorg! (come back to my apartment) & never see you again (only to see you the very next day)