un-honeyed

Writing is a private discipline, in a field of companions.
visual-poetry:

»my hell« by david shrigley (+)

visual-poetry:

»my hell« by david shrigley (+)

mooning

the fact
you whispered,

'look at the moon
mooning himself’


is why i say,

i love you,

i love you,
i love you.

All over the place is good. Random provides a lot of delight. A crooked path is a blessing. I know you’ll take these flights of whimsy and build something great.
— in an email sent to me. 
the view from my run tonight. i somewhat felt a camaraderic spirit among the runners…despite us in our solitary moments, i noticed each looked up and stared at the sky. (at Greenpoint, Brooklyn)

the view from my run tonight. i somewhat felt a camaraderic spirit among the runners…despite us in our solitary moments, i noticed each looked up and stared at the sky. (at Greenpoint, Brooklyn)

across the waters, we waited for the city to light up. it was a mélange of red, white, and blue. (and that moon, too.) (at Williamsburg, Brooklyn)

across the waters, we waited for the city to light up. it was a mélange of red, white, and blue. (and that moon, too.) (at Williamsburg, Brooklyn)

Make a radical change in your lifestyle and begin to boldly do things which you may previously never have thought of doing, or been too hesitant to attempt. So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservation, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun. If you want to get more out of life, you must lose your inclination for monotonous security and adopt a helter-skelter style of life that will at first appear to you to be crazy. But once you become accustomed to such a life you will see its full meaning and its incredible beauty.
— Jon Krakauer 
likeafieldmouse:

Christian Marclay - Krak (2007)
But the totally scheduled person has ruled out in advance the possibility of any spontaneous responses to very deserving calls for help, for friendship, for service. These people may tell themselves that they are only postponing the opportunity to do these things, but in fact they are sacrificing that opportunity.

Please leave work early: http://bit.ly/1pvMcJT 

lost in translation

it seems my dad and i are always in lost in translation.

it’s not so much that we don’t relate (most of the time, we do). it’s only the instances when we talk about career stability and continuing higher education and pursuing what i love vs. what’s required of me that i get frustrated with him, put him on mute while we FaceTime and simply shut off the phone. i don’t like doing it, because he’s old and he recently got an iPod that he loves talking on so much. but since my Mandarin isn’t so great anymore, my need to explain myself (in the few words he understands) elevates to frustration, then defeat.

i always try to imagine what i would be like if i stayed in taipei and really grew up there. it’s weird because much of who i am is based on this identity of being taiwanese-american, but not really taiwanese nor american. it’s as if i spent the most important part of growing up in transition: learning to think for myself, learning to speak English, learning to navigate the social cues of being an ‘American’ kid. i’m not sure if i had stayed in taiwan, i would’ve been compelled to want to write, or to pursue journalism. despite taiwan being one of the most democratic countries in asia, freedom of press is still not as valued there.

——

my dad has always been pretty literary. i remember when i was younger, i would burrow under the covers in my room that i shared with my older sister and try to read my manga before going to bed. my dad would come in and without even asking, swipe the manga away from me. in the early beginning, i would protest and rattle on and on about how i was already two days late in returning the rented manga, etc, etc. he’d stare at me, walk toward the light switch and before the final click, assert calmly, “you’re not supposed to read in the dark, it’s bad for your eyes.’ there was no argument, it was just the way things were. that was one of the characteristics of my dad he never learned growing up: communicating.

but on those nights when it was just the girls, my mom would tell me how my dad, who grew up as an orphan, would stay out late at night, so he could read by the street lamps. when i first heard the story, i cringed. i thought it was so…shady. if Adult Angela were to see some scrappy dude reading by a streetlamp in brooklyn, i am pretty certain she would instinctively roll her eyes till you could only see the whites. but for some strange reason, i love revisiting this image of my dad, in his Beatles hairdo and leather jacket, poor as shit, reading under street lamps.

I tell my students, ‘When you get these jobs that you have been so brilliantly trained for, just remember that your real job is that if you are free, you need to free somebody else. If you have some power, then your job is to empower somebody else. This is not just a grab-bag candy game.’
— Toni Morrison (via ethiopienne)
likeafieldmouse:

Pavel Uniatowicz
THEME BY JUBILEE