How to Get Away with Murder

In the first season of How to Get Away with Murder, each episode opened with a section relating to college student Lila's murder. At first it created interest and maintained suspense as the mystery went unsolved. At first it appeared to be an interesting and unique chronological setup. Soon though, it became tiring and old. The murderer's reveal in the finale felt abrupt and sloppy.

In the second season, though, all of the show's flaws not only persisted, but became even more annoying. The plots gradually became less interesting as well. The execution was poor and the organization distasteful. I do not fear vulgarity in the least, but How to Get Away with Murder has become all crime and no substance. It's a mess of murder, court cases, and social conflicts. Overall a disappointing watch.

Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Lydia

"Most beautiful moment in life, past or future?"

"When I feel the sweet embrace of death."

...

"My most beautiful time recently was we went to see the botanic gardens in Des Moines last month."

"What about it?"

"It was pretty. I saw a turtle and bought an air plant. Best of all, my brother wasn't there. It was really hot actually, but it was really pretty and people were nice."

"Do you love flowers?"

"I do. I have a garden in my room and outside my house. They smell so nice and they're pretty."

"Why were you there?"

"My mom was getting her green card, which was cool except for the drunk guy that was stalking us. That was uncomfortable... We were basically just procrastinating afterward. Definitely to avoid my little brother. Yep."

Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Anna

Anna was initially very resistant to answering this question, calling it "stupid" and "bogus". She sucks.

"Let me tell you a story. One of my favorite memories is from when I lived in Missouri. In our second house, we had a creek in our backyard. Every day we would go out to the creek and play in it. We had plastic boats that we would race down the little waterfalls. The deepest parts were like four feet deep, but I was really young and small,  so we had to walk around the edges so I wouldn't drown and die. I would always get really fascinated with the water bugs, like how they float on the surface tension and everything. Every night we would set out our rain boots to dry for the next day. Sometimes it would rain overnight so we couldn't go the next day. I'd be so sad. I would say that these adventures were one of the things I miss most about living in Missouri."

Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Ashley

"Most beautiful moment in life?"

"That's going to happen or has happened?"

"Either or both, man."

"I'll do both, okay. Beautifullest moment in life.....beautifullest....oh my god"

"Beautifullest, ha."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. The most beautiful moment so far....wow, that is really depresssing that I can't think any beautiful moments so far."

"Most people can't immediately. It's fine!"

"You know, honestly, yesterday was a good day.  I don't know, I just got this overwhelming sensation. Yesterday was April 16th. It was the first day off I"ve gotten from work isince February. Usually I work every day from 11 in the morning to 10 at night. But between two jobs. I mean, I internally scream almost every day."

"I'm screaming right now."

"Anyways, it was so nice out and I did not want to be inside. I was hanging out with my friends all day. I started off the day at the Polar Plunge. It's where you go into cold water, but you have a team with costumes and stuff. And-"

Jacob interrupts with "Eunho Kim is really hot."

"Yeah, it's true!" Obviously  I agree,

Ashley resumes. "Okay, glad we got that out of the way. Anyways, the Polar Plunge is where you dive into cold water with a team and it goes towards the Cedar Rapids Special Olympics. I went with R.E.M. Iowa, because I work with R.E.M. Iowa. We were the Coca Cola polar bears, which meant I had to wear a white t-shirt and white shorts. And, I don't have any natural colored bras, so that was fun. I had to change immediately. I don't know, from there I feel like it just got better. The weather was so nice. It felt almost like a spring awakening for me. Not like the musical, like it awakened my soul and brought out a whole new level of happiness for me. Later, I went to a glass blowing demo and saw a guy from my past, which was awkward. We avoided each other."

"What was the weather like?"

"Oh my gosh, so the past week has been cold and rainy and windy. Just awful. Then I wake up and it's just this gorgeous sunlight. I went outside and I had a pair of shorts on and I was perfectly okay. Like, I hate  pants. Pants are a nuisance to society and I love it when I can just wear shorts. Now that the weather is getting nicer and the nights are getting nicer, I just wanna be out. I have never had the urge to be outside more than I have when I became an independent adult."

---

"So, I beautiful moment in the future. People have different values. Everyone knows this. Everyone believes something different, which is why everyone has a different personality and a different background. I will own up to it....I am a hopeless romantic."

"I think that's a good thing to have."

"You have to hold on to something in this crazy short life. So, I've have these ideals of a perfect relationship, which I need to stop because I know it's never going to actually happen, yeah. But I think every moment in a relationship should be beautiful. There are just certain things that you can find and just fall in love with like the way someone flicks their hair back, or when they drum their fingers on a table and you can just take comfort that they're there. Those are little beautiful moments for me. I want it, but it's so hard to achieve? That's the scary thing about relationships. Feelings can change like the drop of a pen. You can't have those little moments without taking a chance on a relationship."

Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Mary

"Most beautiful moment in life, go."

"Alright, ummm...when I first learned English and when I was actually able to understand what the heck was going on [in English]. So, I learned English as a second language because I only spoke Vietnamese as a child. But then when I first went to kindergarten, everyone spoke this alien language called English. So, I was like 'What the heck is going on?' So my counselor and my older sister had to help me learn English."

"What was it like being in kindergarten and not knowing English when everyone around you used it?"

"Terrible. The first day I went home, I was like 'Mom and Dad, what is this language that people are speaking? I can't understand them! They're not  speaking the same language I'm speaking.' It was terrifying. And every time we had writing tests, like can we write our name and everything, I knew what my English name was—that was the only thing I knew how to say in English—but I could even write it down. So every time we had little writing tests, it'd just be little squiggly lines and drawings."

"How long did it take you to become comprehensive?"

"Well, I finally learned how to speak English near the middle of the year of kindergarten. And then, I was able to read it, but the odds of being able to comprehend it were still really low. Like I was able to  understand most of it, but when we read little stories and had say what happened, I was like 'What am I doing?'"

"What feeling did you have when you realized you could [understand English]?"

"Oh my god, it was amazing. I was like 'I can finally understand what the shits going on!' -laughs- Because, like, I had a really elementary understanding of English for the longest time, then my teachers and my librarian, near fifth grade, kind  of helped me get interested in books. They'd be like 'Oh! You should read this and this.' so then I started reading a lot more too and surprisingly, I like it."

"What was the social effect of not knowing English? Were you kind of isolated?"

"Um, yeah. I felt isolated for a good half year in the beginning, but for the most part it just felt kind of really terrifying because you're the only one who doesn't know what the heck is going on and you feel different because you're not like them."

Everything Before Us (2015)

Everything Before Us is the debut movie of Wong Fu Productions. Though this is their first full length film, the crew of Wong Fu are no strangers to video. Since 2006, the team, led by Philip Wang, Wesley Chan, and Ted Fu, have released video after video on YouTube. Their content includes short films, comedy, and more. The Wong Fu Productions channel currently has 2,645,381 subscribers.

Everything Before Us takes place in the near future where there relationships are on the level of finances, By that, I mean that there are relationship scores, much like credit scores. Overseeing these affairs is the D.E.I., the Department of Emotional Integrity. The D.E.I. headquarters is just like the D.O.T., in terms of waiting setting. Once called, people register relationships, terminate, etc. 

The effects of such a system are unsettling. Though the D.E.I. claimed to resolve relationship conflict, it actually took something as pure as love and made it into business dealing. The candid romance was turned into a transaction. In the stages of casual dating, several people already had marriage in mind. 

Elitism was a prominent outcome of the relationship score system. Those of high scores looked down on those with low scores. Establishments like clubs and bars had minimum score requirements for entrance. Places that allowed low scoring individuals were viewed as trashy.

The separation between work and personal life was eliminated. Relationship scores directly affected employment, college entrance, loans - everything. One mistake in a relationship could rob you of a job or cancel any chance of entering a study abroad program. 

The D.E.I.'s claims of having a widespread positive effect on relationships seems to be greatly defied in the film. In a bar scene, we can actually see Randall, an active employee at the D.E.I. alone and looking very burdened. This brief glimpse has impact, as Randall is not only the character in all of the D.E.I. relationship consultations, but is introduced in the beginning boasting about the department's necessity and social significance at a high school.

Though there are cliches here and there, I would recommend Everything Before Us. It's thought provoking and has a very subtle dystopian feeling. It's recently become available on Netflix. 

Accom(pany)lishment

Just yesterday, I traveled a couple of hours to Des Moines to attend an arts awards ceremony in which I won first place in photography (high school division) and gave a short speech. Of course, in the thanksgiving part of my speech, I could not gloss over the fact that I didn't work alone. 

It was December when I had an idea to take some photos using mirrors. As the mental image developed further, the idea to include suspended cranes emerged as well. I knew, most definitely, that I would need to assemble a team. My father and I sought out two mirrors to reflect into each other, and he lent me his rig (which he used to create a hood when painting model planes). Next, I found my model, shared my idea with her, and got even more excited. She and I met to adjust the height of the setup, as well as the arrangement of suspended origami cranes. Of course, I would need to assemble a team to hold the mirrors. Fortunately, a few friends were available. 

The morning of the shoot was cold, painfully so. Not only were we cold, I also had everyone meet at sunrise. Furthermore, that mirrors were heavy and cut off circulation in the hands/fingers. It was a long, treacherous ordeal. 

Without the hard work of those friends, the vision I had would not have been brought to fruition, reminding me that we often need other people to help us succeed. Those people should be appreciated and never taken for granted, as they're not required to help you.  In short, "teamwork makes the dream work."

Setting Significance

I'm picky when it comes to the music I listen to, and even more critical about what I play in accordance to the time of day, weather, season, general mood, etc. As a result, I have an excessive amount of playlists for very specific times and settings. Similar to my musical habits, I prefer the books I read to match the season I'm in. In fact, the degree to which a book I read matches my real-life setting significantly impacts my reading experience.

During winter break, a couple of fitting book that I read were Murakami's Dance, Dance, Dance and After Dark. Both were set during winter, so I was more immersed in the story and scenes as they weren't so different from that I was living in at the time. I read Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki during two very gloomy days. They featured an overcast sky, chilled temperatures, and grey tones, similar to the story's setting and prominent mood. 

On the other hand, I also read Sputnik Sweetheart during those frigid times. Afterward, i wasn't sure if my lack of a fulfilling reading experience stemmed from shortcoming in the actual writing or my own lack of relation in surroundings. Sputnik Sweetheart is distinctly summery. Both parts in Japan and Greece were characterized by an overbearing summer heat and suffocating humidity. While the characters were sweating profusely, I was wearing three layers in an attempt to stay warm. Though I would visualize scenes, I couldn't quite grasp the physical feelings and atmosphere of the story.  Upon finishing the book, my takeaway feeling was just meh. 

With my finding of how heavily I'm impacted as a reader by setting, I've shaped my reading plan with season in mind. For example, this summer, when I go to the Philippines, I'll re-read Sputnik Sweetheart in hopes of relating to the protagonist as he's living in intense island heat. Learning about these traits I have as a reader will hopefully allow me to grow. 

Rudimentary Things

As the weather warms up, of course I, somewhat calling myself a photographer, feel a desire to go out in the tolerable weather and take photos. Similar to the reemergence of vegetation in the springtime, ideas have begun to sprout in my ind at a quicker pace. I've itched to do a multi-person portrait series for a long while and have brainstormed topic after topic. One that I believe I will follow through on is "Feel Good Photos" - photos capturing what makes someone feel content or happy. 

In the past few days, I asked my friends what their personal answers were. I got detailed answers like "hearing light rain falling onto the ground", "the feeling of climbing into a cool bed after showering, hugging a pillow, and going to sleep happy", "coming home from school and seeing my god waiting for me...she gets excited and licks me while her tail wags like crazy", and "when it rains and I'm in a safe dry place listening and observing". There were also short answers like flowers, pizza, thumbs, face, hair, calves, dew, clavicles, dancing (improv), hanging out with good friends,  and intelligence. 

What I noticed from all these answers was that they were all very basic things, or candid moments. Rather than exciting and expected things like winning a contest/competition, getting a good grade, etc., the things that people really cherish and hold on to are relatively regular and more relaxed times/things. 

Themes of Connection and Fate in Kafka on the Shore

(contains spoilers)

Like many novels of Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore touches upon several abstract concepts and themes of life. I'm about halfway through the novel, and these a couple the themes I look forward to exploring more as I continue.

Connection
There's an abundance of connection throughout the novel. The two protagonists, young Kafka Tamura and the elderly Nakata's fates have been connected in an unexplained way. There's foreshadowing with the mention of Nakata's shadow, which is rather faint. He's recommended to go and search for its other half. The first major connection made between Kafka and Nakata occurs on the night of the murder of Kafka's father, Koichi Tamura. In Nakata's storyline, Tamura sr. is the peculiar "Johnnie Walker", a cat murderer and soul collector. That night, Nakata awakens after the murder with clean clothes, the blood stains simply gone. Several miles away, in a different city, Kafka finds himself with the past few hours of his memory gone and covered in blood.

Fate
Fate is a prominent theme so far. As with many things, Nakata and Kafka contrast in the idea of fate in their lives. Nakata has just lived a life where things happen to him. There was an accident that ruined his life, his cousin took all of his life savings but a few hundred dollars, he's alone and doesn't do a lot. Despite his misfortune, he's never felt bad about it or dissatisfied. Instead, he just accepts it and carries on. Even where i am in the book, he's travelling with no legitimate destination in mind, just "west". Kafka, on the other hand, has some sort of wild life prophecy strongly resembling the prophecy of Oedipus Rex. The concrete nature of his destiny is furthered in the uncanny lyrics of "Kafka on the Shore", a song.

Hardest Time in Life: Danielle

With all my posts on people's most beautiful moments in their life (Danielle, here), I decided I should include the opposite as well. I believe you can learn so much about a person by knowing what hardships they've faced. After all, as Leo Tolstoy said, "Happiness is an allegory, unhappiness a story."

"Would you feel okay talking about a hard time?"

"Yeah, I guess, but it might take me a while to think of one. Wow, that sounds awful to say."

"Nah."

"Never mind, it didn't take it long at all. It's more like a collection of memories. Basically just all the times my dad and brothers have made some sort of snide comment or joke about my weight. Ever since I was 6 or 7, I'd say."

"Could you describe the situations and what they'd say as well as how you felt?'

"I don't know. One just happened a while ago. I found some old coffee filters in our kitchen drawers and said 'Wow dad, they've been in the drawer since I was a small child.' And he stood there for a second and said 'First things first, you were NEVER a small child, let's get that straight.'"

"Jesus Christ."

"Yeah, my dad and brothers are kind of assholes. One of my brothers always brings up this story of when I was a kid and I was in the middle of eating lunch and asked mom what was for dinner. And then my other brother would always call me tubby and beat me up and stuff. So yeah, those were the worst times in my life so far."

"He beat you up?!"

"Yeah, it happened to me a lot as a kid. It's the main reason I hate him so much now."

...

"I'm fine with it, though. Overall, my childhood was great. I'm just sharing the absolute worst parts. "

"Yeah, but still..."

"Meh, my mom made up for all of it. She's a really good mom. I forget about it sometimes, but I know I'm really lucky to have had her."

Most Beautiful Moment(s) in Life: Danielle

A little background: Danielle is a friend I've known for about three years. I met her at Asian Alliance Club when I was in eighth grade (I went to high school part-time). We bonded over a mutual interest in Korean pop culture and continued to grow closer in and out of color guard. She graduated last year, but we still frequently talk and occasionally meet when she returns from college. 

"Tell me about the best times of your life."

"That's seriously such a difficult question. I've been thinking about it for the past 10 minutes...Okay, I'm between 2."

"You can do both!"

"Okay. The first one is when  I went to Japan, but it wasn't the fact that I was in Japan. (A/N this is the same Japan trip as Jacob.) It was the people I was with. We would all head down to convenience stores and buy different foods, then go back to one of our rooms all together and just sit and talk about what all happened that day. And we made TONS of jokes and shared our food. We'd all reminisce. We did that basically every night."

"What were your favorite foods?"

"I liked the sandwiches, but we also tried tones of chips and breakfast foods."

"So how did that impact your friendships?"

"Well now I"m really good friends with Tyler and I still try and keep in touch with Jacob and Taylor. I see Brenna pretty often too. Oh yeah, I cried when everyone left Japan. That was the last time I remember crying for something that happened in my life and  not because of a TV show. I'm always thinking about ways for the Japan crew to reunite. We all want to plan a bowling trip and invite Sensei."

"What exactly were you feeling as you left?"

"When I left or when the rest of the group left? 'Cause we left at different times."

"Both times."

"Okay, when they left I was really sad. I didn't want to be apart from them. I wanted them to stay so we could have more fun times. And when I left, I was ready to go. I had been walking everywhere every day, constantly in motion, so I was ready to go back and rest, but I didn't sleep on the plane at all and was just so exhausted on the way back."

"When was the last time you all met up?"

"All of us? ...Not since before school started. Actually that's wrong. Since coming back, there's never been a time when all of us were together."

"So what about your other memory?"

"It was my friend's 16th birthday party. We went the the PlayStation (laughs). Basically, we were all like 'Aren't we too old to be here?', but when we actually went in, we had soooo much fun. The others started a ball fight with all the kids For some reason, all the kids liked me and thought of me as one of them, so I joined forces to wage war against the 'big kids'. It was just a stupid fun time and we all felt like little kids again. I don't know, it's just a precious memory. It's fun to imagine Cahill and Chelsea and all of us plaing around in the PlayStation with a bunch of 5-8-year-olds."

Mental Exodus

I appreciate introspection. Taking time to look within and process the surrounding world births profound conclusions and important observations. There's always such thing as too much, though. In the case of thinking, you've overdone it when you no longer really cognitively connect to a world outside your own. It's when your mind begins to scratch itself raw. At that point, it seems difficult to open up again, but there are little ways to make progress.

Being with your most engaging friends pulls you out of your own head and into a sort of collaborative space between minds. Observing the living of people you care about is refreshing and reminds you that whatever negative thoughts are not necessarily reality. I've written a little bit more about this here.

Another path of exit is through books. Unlike movies, which although enjoyable, completely turn off the mind, books engage thinking both in following a story and processing its material. Reading is something I've found personally very helpful, as it can be relatable, offer new ideas, and sometimes pulls you into a completely different setting.

On Originality

When I was a kid, I took every chance offered to prove how special i was. To live a meaningless life as a normal person has been my adolescent nightmare. At this point, I've kind of settled into the belief that almost all of originality has already been claimed. It's the curse of later times. There aren't too many artistic rules to break these days. Most ideas have lived in someone else's mind before your own. It's really a pity. Then there's also the fact that all trends start as someone being stylistically different. Before you know it, their style becomes common, appearing in magazines or showing up in in department stores.

Of course there's also the unbreakable fact that every life is unique. No one life could ever be replicated exactly as each person's life is a stack of events, thoughts, and history unparalleled. Even if you try to copy actions, you simply can't repeat moments. The downside of this is that the past is locked away. You can revisit old times in your heart, but you'll never breathe the same air.


It's a perplexing thing to think that much of human action, feeling, and thought is rarely novel, yet every person's timeline is inadvertently a new mélange of happenings. Perhaps the harder we try to be original, the less successful the product is. 

Beginning "Kafka on the Shore"

There's a certain joy in casually reading and stumbling on a line (maybe a few) that make you pause. Whether it provokes thought or is something you deeply relate to, the experience is like finding an unknown treasure.

With television, I actually appreciate and seek spoilers. For some reason, knowing what is going to happen makes me want to watch more than being in the dark. With books it's the opposite. I avoid spoilers like plague. Why? I'm not completely sure, but it really takes away from the experience.

Going back to the aforementioned love of quotable lines, I've found the type of spoiler I didn't know I needed to avoid. By now it's pretty obvious that I really like Haruki Murakami. Often I like to look at quotes. As an international award winner and overall famous novel, Kafka on the Shore is frequently quoted. The numerous lines were unavoidable. Of course they were good, but then when I found them in the pages of the actual book, the ah-ha feeling of discovery was absent. I would advise not reading a novel’s quotations before you read the story.

That aside, I’m only around 100 pages in, yet Kafka on the Shore  has already proven to be a little different from Murakami’s other works. With the chapters alternating between old Nakata’s story and fifteen-year-old Kafka Tamura’s, it took a little bit of adjustment. Out of Murakami’s other works, I’ve only seen this done in After Dark so far. Not only do the stories change, but the narration styles differ. Kafka’s chapters are told in first person, with Kafka as the narrator, while not only are Nakata’s told in third person, but he also speaks mostly in third person (with cats nonetheless).  In terms of character, Nakata and Kafka seem like each other's foil. Nakata is elderly, living loosely without cognitive intricacy. Due to a freak accident from his childhood, Nakata lives with mental retardation, causing him to think and behave rather childishly. On the other hand, Kafka, who is only fifteen years old, is accelerating through maturity at an alarming pace. He’s completely on his own and even lies about his age. Seeing how Murakami brings these opposites together will certainly be something I'm looking forward to.

Looking Back When Dissatisfied

Always looking for something new is a symptom of my short-lasting interest. I get tired of things quickly. Lately, it's been in the matter of music. I've been listening to the same few artists on repeat for at least a couple months now. As with any other instance of musical tiredness, I tried finding new content that I could shift to for now. Unfortunately, I've lacked success and just kind of stayed within the realm of those same artists.

Recently, though, rather than searching for new, I've returned to the old. I don't mean a few months ago old, but rather years ago. Mindfully skipping over my terrible short-lived EDM phase in eighth grade, I've listened to both the favorites of last summer and some iconic favorites from as far back as 2008.

With this revisiting of old music comes the emergence of old memories. The feeling of nostalgia stirs in my stomach and I feel just a shred of my younger self return. I'm reminded that in the never-ending forward path of time, you've just gotta recount the past sometimes. When my mind is transported to the past, I really get to see how I've grown and changed, as well as my friends. The feeling makes me want to gush to them of how much I appreciate them, as they've been with me for years. It maes me want to discuss our shared memories and share a good laugh.

The thirst for the new should not extinguish the flame of the old. You should not cling to the past by any means, but rather be mindful of what's happened, and how it's shaped who you are.

Friendship & Flexibility

Real friendship is most definitely work. More idealistic people would probably argue that a true friendship shouldn't feel like work or a chore, but let me tell you, friendship is effort. It's effort that in the right circumstances, is 100% worth it in the end.

As I've gotten older, human connection and the mechanics of relationships has only seemed to grow more and more complex. I've often felt as if I weren't giving enough, or giving the right sort of thought and effort. How could I get it through to someone that I honestly care about them and cherish them?

I'm busy. My friends are busy. Making plans sometimes proves to be quite a challenge. When proposing possible plans, I've sometimes noticed a sort of tension that emerges as my friends may become visibly anxious as they think about their schedules. The moment I say that this can happen whenever it's possible, despite possibly being pushed back multiple months, the tension dissipates and a relaxed and appreciative smile takes its place. Though flexibility is not an option in select circumstances, it's something that should be exercised as often as possible. I don't mean in action necessarily, but presented as an option. Letting your friend know that you're willing to wait for them to be available, or that you're completely willing to change plans to fit them better displays mindfulness and conveys care. 

Flexibility outside of scheduling is also appreciative. In conflict, indignant stubbornness is nothing outside of damaging. Compromise by both parties is often claimed to be a necessary pieces of a healthy relationship, romantic or platonic. Sometimes, you've either got to meet in the middle, or agree to disagree. 

This probably seems so simple and obvious to some, but honestly, it's common for people to forget to consider others on a deep level. Even if flexibility seems minuscule in act, it's effective.

Cloud Atlas

Cloud Atlas the novel resided on my To-read list for months until I had an opportunity to simply record the movie and save it to watch with friends. Before viewing, I had already read the book's summary and I'd also heard of and seen the awful Yellow-face makeup. My friend had previously recommended the movie to me, so late on a Friday night, we watched Cloud Atlas until 2:30AM (with snack breaks and pauses for laughter of course).

Overall, Cloud Atlas is gorgeous. The cinematography was striking, the colors stunning, and the music astounding. The stories themselves aren't completely phenomenal on their own, but once connected together through time, they're complex and engage the mind.

A contrast to the beauty of the film is the overall bluntness that is presented both in contexts of comedy and horror. It was funny as hell when the pretentious critic was pushed off a roof with a pancake ending, but it was also disturbing to see a fabricant waitress killed with blood spurting everywhere. There's no censoring, and instead every gruesome detail of the characters' actions is depicted. 

Themes constant throughout the movie included the oppression of one group of people by another, conflicted love, truth, and simply human connection. The horrors of systematic inequality were disheartening, terrible, and sometimes physically sickening. They ranged from control, to physical violence, to even cannibalism in more than one story line. 

Despite the multiple strengths of the film, the makeup was incredibly distracting. The Asian characters who were clearly white men in half-assed makeup were cartoonish. They all bore some resemblance to Spock, and the interrogator looked completely like an alien. As an Asian American, you can bet I felt a little insulted by the portrayal of Korean men. Did the makeup artists think that weird triangle brows, straight (obviously synthetic) black hair, and a flat heavy hood lid was convincingly Asian? The other race-crossing makeup attempts weren't convincing either. I understand that they used the same actors in order to draw the connections through history, and I really do think that it's a fascinating and ambitious idea, but as much as I wish to fully appreciate it, the makeup was just not good. 

Why??????

Regardless, I still do want to recommend Cloud Atlas, as it's an-almost-three-hour thought-provoking wild ride. 

The Argument for Cooking

I love food. Like, I really love food. I watch cooking shows for fun and began developing the skill when I was as young as three years old. I've noticed that a lot of my peers lack learning to make food in their upbringing. It's never too late and there are multiple pros.

1. Your chances of starvation of decreased

Honestly, I think that being able to make food should be a basic skill, as food, oxygen, and water are three crucial keys to living.

2. Save money+control

Frequently eating out is incredibly expensive. Also, you never really know what's been put into your food. When you cook, you reduce money spent on eating and have complete control over what you consume. Thus, you can adjust things to your taste and preferred diet.

3. Share with friends

There's a great feeling of accomplishment when your product is not only useful to you, but to people around you as well. Cooking for friends is an excellent bonding experience and expression of affection. Your friends will (/should!) appreciate the fruit of your labor.

4. Accomplishment

In any context, pulling something together to create a finished product brings a sensation of success. The actual process can be very

relaxing too, even more so if you cook with good music playing.

5. Multitude of recipes online

There are so many free recipes on the internet, so you can never really run out of options. When experimenting with recipes, you truly become an explorer.

Pinball 1973 (Haruki Murakami)

I read Pinball 1973 as a part of the 2015 Wind/Pinball joint binding.

The setting of Pinball is somewhat confusing if you dive in right after Wind. Wind's brief epilogue launches years into the future, post-Pinball 1973 and pre-A Wild Sheep Chase. Like Hear the Wind Sing, Pinball isn't dynamic in plot. It switches between the unnamed protagonist/narrator and his friend, the Rat. The pacing is very slow, and perhaps a bore at times, but there are profound moments. Philosophy is prominent throughout the book, regarded both reflectively and humorously. After all, the main character has an attachment to Kant, so his philosophical interest isn't a surprising one.

The Rat's story isn't the most interesting venture. Basically, he begins dating a woman, faces a sort of existential crisis, and eventually skips town. In the previous book, the Rat was given basic character traits, but like the other characters in Wind, he's not illustrated with depth. Thus, there's little attachment to him as a character. His story offers a little clarity/backstory for readers of A Wild Sheep Chase, but there's not much past that.

Though there's no true thrill in the main character's story, it's fitting. Throughout Pinball, he's found himself at a state of life where each day seems to just be a copy of the former. To use an excited tone would be inappropriate. For reader who crave action, this would be a massive turn off, but in the context of drifting, Murakami captures the feeling perfectly. Repetition is a large theme, present in the character's descriptions of his daily routine, the identical twins who just appear one day and live with him, and finally, the numerous pinball machines near the end.

Obsession is another major piece of Pinball 1973. The protagonist shares, 

“On any given day, something can come along and steal our hearts. It may be any old thing: a rosebud, a lost cap, a favorite sweater from childhood, an old Gene Pitney record. A miscellany of trivia with no home to call their own. Lingering for two or three days, that something soon disappears, returning to the darkness. There are wells, deep wells, dug in our hearts. Birds fly over them."

That object of his obsession is a model of a pinball machine. The protagonist's intense journey back to his love, the machine, seems to be fueled by extreme nostalgia. He even has a crucial heart-to-heart conversation with the machine from his past. A proclamation of love and farewell.  It's an odd love line, but what can you expect from Murakami?

Hear the Wind Sing (Haruki Murakami)

After reading Dance Dance Dance and A Wild Sheep Chase, I wanted to read the other two Rat-related books by Murakami. All four books have the same unnamed narrator, friend of "the Rat". Breaking my pattern of reading the books in reverse chronological order, I started Hear the Wind Sing just yesterday. Hear the Wind Sing and Pinball 1973 are the two first novellas in Murakami's career. Deemed unworthy by Murakami, the books were limited edition in Japanese and very rare translated into English. Perhaps due to pressure from publishers, fans, or both, Hear the Wind Sing and Pinball 1973 were re-translated into English and released bound together in as Wind/Pinball last year. It's assumed that readers of the two stories are avid Murakami fans.

I've been reading a lot of Murakami, but have made a point to avoid the majority of his most popular words like The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, Kafka on the Shore, 1Q84, etc. I did start with Norwegian Wood, but then read South of the Border, West of the Sun, After Dark, Color Tsukuru Tazaki, Dance Dance Dance, and A Wild Sheep Chase. Whether I've done this to train myself fro 1Q84 or to save the best for last, I don't really know.

I have to say, first of all, Hear the Wind Sing is not a great book. It's very apparent that it's the author's very first work, and he himself knows of its shortcomings. The style is undeveloped, and it's just very choppy. There's a lack of plot and a great deal of disconnect throughout the novella. A sense of flow is absent, and many of the sections seem random, and not in a humorous way. Not a lot happens, and the characters aren't terribly interesting. The story is under a month in length and it's not hectic in the least.

Flaws aside, Hear the Wind Sing has its own strengths as well. There are some very relatable pieces on the ache of growing up, the passage of time, and being at a loss for a concrete meaning to living. Though there's disorganized randomness, there's some sporadic. humor as well.

When Short of Creativity

Especially during the school year, I fall into an artist's block. Finding inspiration isn't an easy thing to do, but there are things that may help.

1) Collab with a friend
I'm lucky to have a lot of artistic friends, but I've also done a pretty cool painting with a "non-art" friend. Harnessing the separate skills a friend has to offer leads to new products and variety. Combining separate skills can yield a pleasantly unexpected product. Keep in mind that if creating a product with meaning, you're taking two different perspectives and meeting in the middle.

2) Watch movies and view existing art
Observing movies and art is largely beneficial in developing or trying out new styles, aesthetics, and interpretations. Several films offer ideas of color palettes and strongly connect the mood of a scene with its environment. Especially with art films, film makers use techniques like framing, repetition, symbols etc. to convey a message or feeling important to the story or a character. With art, you can view textures, arrangements, etc.

3) Read books 
Books are always open to interpretation, simply because there's never a completely concrete image. Due to the nature of the medium, though, authors go to great lengths to describe scenes and emotion. This, and figurative language often inspire me when I'm stumped on how to portray something.

4) Listen to music
Music is a mode of sharing emotion, which often helps in birthing a story or a moment.

5) Try to be more observant of the surrounding world
It's a wonderful world we live in. Though it sometimes seems plain outside, the most beautiful moments are fleeting. Most definitely worth a share of patience.

Norwegian Wood (film)

Norwegian Wood was the first of many Haruki Murakami books that I read. It's simply a gorgeous book full of quirkiness and interesting characters. This past weekend, I decided to rent the film by Tran Anh Hung.

I fell asleep twice while trying to watch this film. It's most definitely not a bad one, but it's definitely slow and walks the line between relaxing and boring. Aesthetically, Norwegian Wood is striking. Really, it's absolutely gorgeous. The music has tragic impact, but is not overdone. The locations are so very pretty, and the colors are just wonderful.

Where Norwegian Wood falls short is the plot. It's sparse to the max. The book is a complicated one, but the movie excludes almost all of the book's happenings and rich descriptions. Key moments form the book, like important back stories and key events like when Watanabe and Midori watch a fire from her apartment are excluded. Midori's family's bookstore isn't even included. It's understandable, as the film is already a little over two hours, but it's disappointing. The only character given the smallest fragment of a personality is Naoko. The effect of this results in forgettable characters and a forgettable film. Important scenes were also changed in location, like Midori and Wantanbe's dramatic scene in the pouring rain. In the film version, they instead have a quiet exchange in heavy snowfall. 

The transitions are also very confusing, even for someone like me, who's read the book. I assume Norwegian Wood's audience is intended to be people who've read the book, but it was still very confusing when you go from Naoko's dead body to Wantanabe chilling in a cave and screaming by the ocean with literally no narration. 

Norwegian Wood is beautiful in aesthetic, but just so tragic in the execution of its story.

The Great British Baking Show versus American Cooking Shows

The Great British Baking Show is a masterpiece. I started watching it a few days ago, after watching all of the Chopped episodes on Netflix. As well as a fair amount of Cupcake Wars and Cutthroat Kitchen. The differences were drastic.


1) The Setting
The first episode of The Great British Baking Show was absolutely shocking. Not only was everything pastel, but they were actually outside in a pretty tent. Everything fit a pastel/pale aesthetic, whereas on Chopped for example, the room is fairly packed, with a heavy aesthetic. The transition scenes on TBBS (it's a lot to type) consisted of baby goats, plants, small animals, etc., while Chopped literally just pans from the contestants to a cleaver wedged in the wall. 

2) The Contestants
The lack of rivalry is a refreshing one. Cutthroat Kitchen literally pits contestants against each other, forcing them to steal equipment and/or ingredients, as well as sabotage their recipes.Cupcake Wars and Chopped also mostly consist of false (or real) arrogance and boasting, as well as talking competitors down. TBBS instead has a comfortable friendly atmosphere. The interactions are lovely, and everyone is reluctant to see their competitors go. It's like they're teammates rather than competitors.

3) The Amount of Preparation
Chopped, Cutthroat Kitchen, and Cupcake Wars all force their contestants to create in an insanely short amounts of time (30 minutes, for example). Their ingredients are completely wild and are always a surprise. On TBBS, the bakers not only have a sufficient amount of time to create quality foods with gorgeous aesthetic quality, but they also get to practice at home before each episode.

4) The Hosts
On American shows, I've really only seen the hosts hang back with the judges and comment on the chefs from afar. They're lovable and lively, but much less interactive than the comedy duo on TBBS. TBBS's hosts are full of innuendos and puns. They sometimes act like a couple, and frequently interact with the bakers. Occasionally, the hosts will even assist the bakers, contrasting with the hands-off American approach.

5) The Judges
The judges on TBBR are honestly so chill that if you aren't listening closely, you'd think that everything they said was a compliment. Even the criticisms are delivered so pleasantly. They walk around the tent and come to each baker to chat and taste their food. The judges on American shows instead sit behind a long table, distanced from the standing chefs. There's a prominent divide, and the judges are also sometimes pretty darn mean. It's their job, yes, but sometimes the mean humor is literally just to maintain their image as a harsh judge.

A Trainwreck, But an Enjoyable Trainwreck

I wrote about the preparation for this post's happening, or lack of, here.

The stage lights were blinding. Joyce and Claire were playing Butterfly Lovers on horn and piano. After my completely improvised ribbon solo en pointe, and Jasmine and Morgan's parasol duet, it was time for our fan dance trio.

We had a lose idea of what we were going to do for out Chinese New Year festival performance for two months, maybe three. There were going to be parasols for sure, and the song we chose was Butterfly Lovers. We had arranged for Joyce to play piano, and for Claire to be on French horn. That much was organized until the two weeks preceding the event.

The first day in that two week crackdown period was a Sunday. The basic sequential aspect of our act was devised. I would have a ballet/ribbon solo, Jasmine and Morgan would do their parasol work, and then we would join together. Claire's music was not yet arranged at this point, and the fan choreography was only in the beginning stages. The parasol dance was loosely created.

The fan choreography was not completed until the midnight of the Friday/Saturday transition, the weekend before the Monday festival. I knew this would be a rough performance. We learned the whole set of choreo on Sunday and didn't even manage a full clean run through. I still hadn't heard the song all the way through.

On Monday night, we had a vague idea of what we were doing. In regards to my pointe solo, I just winged the entire thing. I also fell at one part, but I mean, it happened. The parasols were rather okay, but when it came to the fans....yeah. Right before I went onstage, when the curtains were about to open, Morgan told me that she had completely forgotten the choreography. In the pictures I had my friend take of us, you can see clearly what was happening. There were pictures where I was doing the dance, and both Morgan and Jasmine were standing there, blatantly staring at me. In most, you can see us looking at each other laughing. On stage.

You'd think that it'd be an embarrassing event. It wasn't. Coming off stage, we just gathered together laughing so hard, not in shame, but in genuine amusement. It was hilarious, but had enough parts that were actually quite nice, so it wasn't completely tragic. People that had watched us told me we looked good, or that it was a pretty performance, but the whole thing feels like an inside joke. Overall, it really exercised our existing friendship, and made for a good memory, especially for Morgan, who is graduating this year. 

Spring Memories (Jasmine)

These are Jasmine's spring memories. Morgan's are here.

"When I lived in Chicago, we used to live right next to our cousin's house. It was like our house, a neighbor's house, then Kevin's house.This was when we were really young and we didn't know a lot of English because we only spoke Chinese. What we'd do every single day when Kevin got out of school was go to Kevin's house for like five hours. He's just have to hang out with us for like five hours and not do his homework, which was terrible. At the time, we didn't know it was terrible. So we were like, okay alright. So,  because he wanted to get his homework done, he'd send us on these 'missions', in which he was like 'Okay guys, get me these things' and they were like stuff he needed for his homework. We'd be like 'aight'.And that was all that we would do, and then he would play video games while we just watched. That was my childhood."

"How old were you?"

"I don't know, like five? Smol child."

"So you didn't speak very much English as a little kid?"

"Nah, we started in preschool. So, 4? Yeah, preschool was not fun, but kindergarten was a little more fun."

"So what were those journeys like?"

"My journeys? They weren't really anything. They were just kind of like, sub-par make-believe adventures? Sup-par...at best. There was one time where he actually tried to make a game for us, but we just weren't having it. It was really late and we were just like no. It was a make-your-own-adventure type of thing, and it was really neat, but we just gave up on it like two acts in." 

Spring Memories (Morgan)

I, a person incredibly susceptible to nostalgia, feel some sort of sensation with the transition of seasons, four times a year, every year. Summer is about wonder and adventure, Autumn is somber, Winter is rather bleak but has it's moments, and Spring possesses a distinct fresh feeling. Memories of mine include new beginnings and rudimentary childish joy. Today's scene included a half grass half snow landscape, a blue sky, and a temperature in the 40s. Thus, the feeling of spring began to manifest within me. I asked a couple of my friends what kind of spring memories they had themselves. First was Morgan.

"What were some lovely childhood memories that come to mind when you think of spring?"

"So I used to live in this small town when I was in first grade or second grade. It was at our house in Forest City."

"Oh...hm"

"Never heard of it?"

"No..."

"Great, so we had a cherry tree out in front of our yard, and every spring the cherry blossoms would come. And then when the cherries were finally there, we picked them, and then we would freeze them with sugar, and then make cherry pie. Those cherry blossoms were the best."

"That sounds so nice! We used to have a crab apple tree, but it died."

"Aw, well we moved. I miss that cherry tree. We also had honeysuckle growing on one side of the house, and lilac bushes in the back. Spring was the best. IT was beautiful, and smelled so good. That was one of my favorite things about that house. We played outside a lot, because my mom would throw us out of the house all the time. We were home schooled, so we did school in the morning, then she would throw us out in the afternoon. We'd play, my older sister and I. It was the best. That was the best house we lived in."

"Did you guys move a lot?"

"We did. We lived in South Dakota, I was born there. We moved like three times, but only twice when I was alive. Then we moved to Iowa. Six times total."

2.14

Valentine's day is actually my favorite holiday, which is ironic as it's considered one of the most commercialized holidays, as well as a sad day for singles. I'm someone who hates Hallmark movies (no plot variety, come on), always happens to be single in February, and despises materialism. Why do I like it so much? I don't exactly know.

Perhaps this is because of my upbringing. My parents were somewhat strict and devout Christians. Of course, Easter and Christmas were celebrated in our household, though Christmas has always been kind of eh to me, and Easter was a lot of fun, but also resulted from Jesus's death three days prior. My parents are also rather patriotic, so United States-centric holidays were acknowledged as well. The secular and non-country related holidays weren't played up too much on the other hand.

When I was young, there was an excitement in preparing my little Valentines cards. Though the folding and taping was rather repetitive and boring, receiving them from others was so much fun. Even more enjoyable was making the container which would hold the accumulation of Valentines. Arts and crafts were my thing as a kid, so I really got creative with these.

As I got older, the romantic aspect did become a little obnoxious, but I could look forward to having a nice dinner with my best friends. The general theme of love manages to reach my stone cold heart, I guess. We'll see how this year's pans out.

Passions Fade

2008. Mid-September. A cool breezy night. I, at nine years of age, was watching the Kennedy Marching Band perform for halftime at a football game. I was in awe of the formations and colors. The drums' vibrations were felt in my stomach. It was the only thing that tore my attention away from my nachos that night. I knew I wanted to be in the color guard from then on.

I became a member my freshman year. Though my skills were lacking, I worked hard and was a little obsessed with the activity. after all, it was a sort of dream of mine. I had such intimate friendships with other members and loved performing. It was something that I found joy in and never wanted to stop doing. Color guard was a piece of my identity back then. In the springtime, I found myself missing marching.

There was drastic improvement in the time between my freshman and sophomore years. Sophomore year was much more wholesome, as my effort had paid off. My skills were developed and my heart was still beating for performance. That was the senior year of so many of my friends, but  I never wanted it to end. We didn't rank well, but that wasn't an issue because the act of performance was enough to satisfy me.

Junior year. Almost all of my best friends in guard had graduated. We actually had some pretty snazzy costumes, and the show was Jekyll and Hyde, one of my favorite stories. We placed so well, and it was deemed one of the most successful years for the band in a while. You'd think that this would be heavenly for me. It would only make sense, yeah? Unfortunately, I found myself hating it at practices, and feeling little post-performance. Whatever I had felt before had left me. Even when we did so well at our biggest competition, I felt relatively nothing. Where did it go? My therapist suggested that it could be because my identity had developed past the need for color guard to be a large part of who I am. It was definitely a thought that stuck, and I think she could be right. I mean here I am, with a guaranteed spot as the leader next fall, instead choosing not to complete a four-year run in marching band. I have the skills and there are expectations for me to lead my teammates next year, but I just can't bring myself to dedicate so much of my life next year that I don't feel passionate about. I'm going to get so much slack for it, but I truly think I've just grown out of my state of being as a member. Though it's so incredibly disappointing, I really feel that it's my time to move on and just keep developing and that it's simply a sign of age.

High School Habits (Chinese students)

Every year, the school's Chinese program organizes a festival to celebrate the beginning of the Lunar New Year. This often takes place in late winter. The festival at school consists of a Hy-vee Chinese dinner, followed by performances created by students. I've taken Chinese for four years, and it feels like the same thing every year - a true testament to the progression of procrastination of an adolescent.

Choreography has always been my contribution. During my 8th grade year, it came in the form of motion's for my group's pitiful performance of I Love You, You Love Me, Chinese version. If you're thinking of the ol' song from Barney, you're thinking right. This one was pretty easy and didn't have any rushed planning, but this was pre-high school of course.

My freshman year was when my group did a fan dance to 恭喜恭喜(Gong Xi Gong Xi). That one was prepared maybe two weeks before our performance. It was pretty fast paced, and legitimately choreographed with effort. We worked hard and performed it well.

The next year, I choreographed a ballet solo/ribbon trio .The other two members of my group also made their own fan duo piece. It was definitely more messy than the year before, given it was also choreographed the week before we performed it. The anticipation was lessened too.

This year...ha. This year consists of a ballet solo, parasol duo, and fan trio. The performance is in a week, and we've just started to look at it today. There's little excitement and instead just loathing. We'll see how this one turns out...