So I've decided to try leaving blogger for a while. I've migrated my blog over to Square Space and am going to give it a shot for a bit. I've been putting up subsequent posts from my Japan trip there, so if you've been a reader and interested in continuing to follow my goings on, check out the new site here: brian-oh.com
Thanks to those people who might have been readers and aren't people I deliberately direct here. Hope you check out the new space!
Saturday, October 6
Tuesday, September 25
Japan (ii): Shinjuku, Shibuya, & Ginza (Day 1)
I landed at Narita at around 6pm. One of the first things I realized was that no one was going to be speaking much English to me. Not even the customs agents knew more than a few words. After making it through immigration, I found my way to the JR ticket office where I exchanged my JR pass exchange order for the actual pass. I then bought what I hoped was the right train ticket for a ride into Tokyo (Narita is a 90 minute train ride from the city). It's always a little disorienting coming into a foreign city for the first time. I wasn't going to be able to orient myself until I got to the hotel. There was going to be a lot of hoping I was on the right train or walking the right way during this trip. I followed signs for the Narita Express and waited for a gleaming, white train that arrived exactly when it was scheduled to. The doors were roped off for several minutes while each car was cleaned by uniformed attendants in matching hats before I was allowed on. I stepped on and was whisked off to Tokyo.
Once at Shinjuku Station (where my hotel was), I walked around outside for a bit trying to match my map up with what I was seeing, but after about 20 minutes of not knowing where the hell I was going, I just hailed a cab and gave them my map and was taken on a cab ride for about 5 blocks. After dropping my bags in my room at the Hotel Tateshina, it was roughly 8:30pm. I stretched and headed back out to grab dinner at a ramen shop nearby in the Golden Gai neighborhood.
Golden Gai is a network of narrow back alleys lined with tiny one room bars where salarymen come to drink after work. Above one of these spots is Nagi Ramen, a shop known for its shoyu (soy) ramen flavored with niboshi (dried baby sardines). I climbed the super narrow and steep stairs to Nagi and had my first encounter with a ramen vending machine. Unfamiliar with the protocol, I had to stumble my way through a broken conversation in the tiny space, disrupting everyone's meal, to learn that I had to pay into the machine first and select what I wanted, get my ticket, then go wait outside. Unfortunately, I hadn't had a chance to get to an ATM yet, but a young couple that was finishing their ramen recognized my predicament and offered to lead me to an ATM at a nearby convenience store. The guy didn't know any English, but the girl knew a bit; enough to tell me she'd been to Hawaii and Vegas before. They led me to a Lawson's (which I soon found to be ubiquitous) and I thanked them. I found, however, that the ATM only accepted Japanese cards. I then wandered around a bit looking for a 7-11 because I knew it took international cards. I ran into a black guy that turned out to be a Nigerian that I thought was staying at a nearby hotel. He spoke English and led me to a 7-11. When I came out and thanked him, he offered to show me to "his place" for a drink. I thought he meant his hotel, but I quickly realized as he led me into a tiny back room in a gaudy lobby that he was the proprietor of a hostess club. He opened the door to the tiny, black-lit space and revealed a pair of heavily made up Japanese women and told me it was 3000 Yen for a half-hour of "all I can drink and all I can touch." Stunned for a second, I politely declined and backed my way out of there, but not before being propositioned by a few other Nigerians. I shook my head and ran back to Nagi.
Cash in hand, I waited in an adjacent alley to Nagi that was barely wide enough for me to extend my shoulders. The chef called out the next customer from a tube in the kitchen that led out of the window. When I was finally seated, I was served my beer, a plate of chicken skins, and my ramen. It was probably the most filling thing I've ever eaten. The noodles were extra thick and chewy and the broth rich and fishy. I told people I'd be eating ramen non-stop, but that bowl really made me question my ability to eat as much as I thought I could. I finished what I could and walked the few blocks back to my hotel to crash after a long day of traveling.
The next morning I had planned on going to the Studio Ghibli Museum in Mikata, but I found all of the entry times to be sold out for the entire time I was in Japan. I was extremely disappointed. I tried a few Loppi kiosks in different Lawson's (where you buy museum and show tickets in Tokyo) to make doubly sure, but eventually I conceded and decided to walk through some nearby parks. I made my way to Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden and wandered through the pristine lawns with Tokyo skylines all around. There were bird and insect calls that I didn't recognize. Instead of pigeons and song birds, crows cawed constantly and fluttered heavy wings. After a while, I found myself on the other side of the park and wandered a bit through the alleys toward the Meji Shrine in Yoyogi Park.
The streets in Tokyo couldn't be more different from cities in the States. There is zero litter. There are vending machines on every corner. There are more bikes than cars. There's also very little to suggest any form of poverty, save for the occasional rundown shack sandwiched among high rises. Cats often flitted lightly on their paws across the street.
I eventually found myself at the entrance to the Meji Shrine where I found a stone fountain with bamboo ladle and washed my hands there. Just outside the grounds there were souvenir shops, as with everywhere in Japan, and at the bottom of some steps I found a wallet. I opened it and saw it belonged a Caucasian man named George Thomas. I made a few attempts to ask random white guys if it was theres, but that obviously failed. Inside the Shrine on Sundays, there are often ceremonial wedding processions. Wedding parties in traditional garb march slowly across the grounds while tourists stick cameras in their faces. It's an interesting example of how Japanese tradition is preserved, but in such a way that it's just spectacle for a large portion of the population. I'd find this to be the case in many other places.
After the Shrine, I took the train down to Harajuku Station. Before checking out the mobbed areas full of curiously dressed youths, I made by way into the side-streets to find another ramen spot, Afuri. What's interesting about Afuri is that 1) it specializes in adding a slight citrus flavor to its broth and 2) most of the workers are women (ramen is predominantly a male thing in Japan). I had a bowl of shio (salt) ramen with a couple slices of fatty, smoky pork that they grill on a tiny charcoal grill. Afuri is also considered "cafe ramen", meaning it's light and in smaller portions. It made a great lunch. Afterward, I walked a few blocks to Be A Good Neighbor coffee. A fantastic, tiny shop on a corner that's just big enough for an espresso machine and a drip bar. It's designed impeccably with brushed metal and wood everywhere. Interesting looking design magazines lined the counter and a 3rd gen. iPod played music softly over an Apple Hi-Fi (two of my favorite Apple product designs). I ordered a drip coffee that was hand dripped fastidiously. They offered me a tiny glass of chilled grapes with my cup. A subtle, but sublime touch that made the experience so much better. The shop was manned by a charming couple that gave me some recommendations for thing to do in Tokyo in halting English. Mostly museums and art related things. They were more American hipsters than Japanese hipsters.
Speaking of Japanese hipsters, Harajuku is full of exactly what you would envision when hearing that word. There's one particular street lined with shops and is mobbed with young people, mostly girls, dressed in outlandish costumes and with large, bleached hair. They ranged from almost normal looking to completely ridiculous. A lot of the costumes are like what you'd find at Halloween costume store selling slutty versions of everything. There were groups of girls wearing the exact same costume. The last girl pictured takes the cake for just being dressed as a pumpkin that's only slutty because of how short she's wearing it. This is something I noticed among women's fashion in Japan. Everything is extremely short and gives off the impression of wanting to look provocative, but it's an afterthought here with the rest of the outfit being super cutesy. This was also where I first encountered the maddening chorus of intensely nasal, high pitched shop girls calling for people to come in to their shops. For me it was like going to a toy store, finding a shelf of toys with voices, and pressing all of their buttons and listening to 50 toys repeat their prerecorded message. I don't know how those voices make anyone want to buy anything from them.
After a short break back at my hotel, I went out to Ginza. Ginza is the high end shopping district and home to the flagship Uniqlo store, which is 12 stories tall. Yeah. 12 stories. Even more astounding is the Abercrombie & Fitch next door that's even taller. One thing I found interesting, which continues the sentiment of many Harajuku girls wearing the exact same outfits, was that the two Abercrombie models manning the doors were dressed identically in the same plaid shirt and distressed jeans. I mentioned this in my initial post, but it really just kind of makes it feel like even the mentality of counter-culture in Japan is subject to a rigid subconscious drive to control every aspect of oneself.
Before dinner, I went to another coffee shop. Open since 1948, Café de l'Ambre in Ginza is a classic Japanese "kissaten" (coffee shop) and emphasizes mood and the quality of the cup. The sign outside proudly proclaims that they serve "Only Coffee" and that's exactly what you find. There's no food, other drinks, or even milk or sugar to speak of. Select the size of your cup and watch as each is dripped through a cotton filter from a copper kettle into a small copper pot and then transferred to a pre-warmed cup. It's a hypnotic process. I don't think I'm well versed enough in coffee to be able to appreciate the intricacies of the flavors I should have been tasting, but it was terribly fascinating just to watch the man execute his craft.
Afterward, I wandered through the Uniqlo a bit and actually found a few nice pieces, but realized I don't really have the proportions for clothes designed for skinny Asian guys. I then went to get dinner at Yakitori Ton Ton, which sits underneath the train tracks at the end of a long narrow corridor of bars and restaurants. The archway captures all the smoke and echoes all the noise back into the space. It's a crowded, raucous, smoky spot, but the food is great and if I knew more Japanese, I'm sure I'd have had better, longer conversations. I had pork, pork gizzard, chicken, and chicken meatballs. The chicken meatballs were amazing. I ordered 3 more skewers after my first one. I finished my beers and headed back to Shinjuku to crash after the first packed day of many more.
So this ended up being a lot longer and took a lot longer than I had anticipated. Each day in Japan was so packed though, that I don't really know how I can condense or speed it up. I might just have to do 8 more similarly massive posts. I've also not really had a lot of time to rest and recover after my trip, so I'm not sure at what pace I can keep this up. I'll do my best to keep these coming before I forget everything though.
I really just need one or two solid days to just do nothing, but I don't know when that'll happen. Where's all my free time these days?!
Once at Shinjuku Station (where my hotel was), I walked around outside for a bit trying to match my map up with what I was seeing, but after about 20 minutes of not knowing where the hell I was going, I just hailed a cab and gave them my map and was taken on a cab ride for about 5 blocks. After dropping my bags in my room at the Hotel Tateshina, it was roughly 8:30pm. I stretched and headed back out to grab dinner at a ramen shop nearby in the Golden Gai neighborhood.
Golden Gai is a network of narrow back alleys lined with tiny one room bars where salarymen come to drink after work. Above one of these spots is Nagi Ramen, a shop known for its shoyu (soy) ramen flavored with niboshi (dried baby sardines). I climbed the super narrow and steep stairs to Nagi and had my first encounter with a ramen vending machine. Unfamiliar with the protocol, I had to stumble my way through a broken conversation in the tiny space, disrupting everyone's meal, to learn that I had to pay into the machine first and select what I wanted, get my ticket, then go wait outside. Unfortunately, I hadn't had a chance to get to an ATM yet, but a young couple that was finishing their ramen recognized my predicament and offered to lead me to an ATM at a nearby convenience store. The guy didn't know any English, but the girl knew a bit; enough to tell me she'd been to Hawaii and Vegas before. They led me to a Lawson's (which I soon found to be ubiquitous) and I thanked them. I found, however, that the ATM only accepted Japanese cards. I then wandered around a bit looking for a 7-11 because I knew it took international cards. I ran into a black guy that turned out to be a Nigerian that I thought was staying at a nearby hotel. He spoke English and led me to a 7-11. When I came out and thanked him, he offered to show me to "his place" for a drink. I thought he meant his hotel, but I quickly realized as he led me into a tiny back room in a gaudy lobby that he was the proprietor of a hostess club. He opened the door to the tiny, black-lit space and revealed a pair of heavily made up Japanese women and told me it was 3000 Yen for a half-hour of "all I can drink and all I can touch." Stunned for a second, I politely declined and backed my way out of there, but not before being propositioned by a few other Nigerians. I shook my head and ran back to Nagi.
Cash in hand, I waited in an adjacent alley to Nagi that was barely wide enough for me to extend my shoulders. The chef called out the next customer from a tube in the kitchen that led out of the window. When I was finally seated, I was served my beer, a plate of chicken skins, and my ramen. It was probably the most filling thing I've ever eaten. The noodles were extra thick and chewy and the broth rich and fishy. I told people I'd be eating ramen non-stop, but that bowl really made me question my ability to eat as much as I thought I could. I finished what I could and walked the few blocks back to my hotel to crash after a long day of traveling.
The next morning I had planned on going to the Studio Ghibli Museum in Mikata, but I found all of the entry times to be sold out for the entire time I was in Japan. I was extremely disappointed. I tried a few Loppi kiosks in different Lawson's (where you buy museum and show tickets in Tokyo) to make doubly sure, but eventually I conceded and decided to walk through some nearby parks. I made my way to Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden and wandered through the pristine lawns with Tokyo skylines all around. There were bird and insect calls that I didn't recognize. Instead of pigeons and song birds, crows cawed constantly and fluttered heavy wings. After a while, I found myself on the other side of the park and wandered a bit through the alleys toward the Meji Shrine in Yoyogi Park.
The streets in Tokyo couldn't be more different from cities in the States. There is zero litter. There are vending machines on every corner. There are more bikes than cars. There's also very little to suggest any form of poverty, save for the occasional rundown shack sandwiched among high rises. Cats often flitted lightly on their paws across the street.
I eventually found myself at the entrance to the Meji Shrine where I found a stone fountain with bamboo ladle and washed my hands there. Just outside the grounds there were souvenir shops, as with everywhere in Japan, and at the bottom of some steps I found a wallet. I opened it and saw it belonged a Caucasian man named George Thomas. I made a few attempts to ask random white guys if it was theres, but that obviously failed. Inside the Shrine on Sundays, there are often ceremonial wedding processions. Wedding parties in traditional garb march slowly across the grounds while tourists stick cameras in their faces. It's an interesting example of how Japanese tradition is preserved, but in such a way that it's just spectacle for a large portion of the population. I'd find this to be the case in many other places.
After the Shrine, I took the train down to Harajuku Station. Before checking out the mobbed areas full of curiously dressed youths, I made by way into the side-streets to find another ramen spot, Afuri. What's interesting about Afuri is that 1) it specializes in adding a slight citrus flavor to its broth and 2) most of the workers are women (ramen is predominantly a male thing in Japan). I had a bowl of shio (salt) ramen with a couple slices of fatty, smoky pork that they grill on a tiny charcoal grill. Afuri is also considered "cafe ramen", meaning it's light and in smaller portions. It made a great lunch. Afterward, I walked a few blocks to Be A Good Neighbor coffee. A fantastic, tiny shop on a corner that's just big enough for an espresso machine and a drip bar. It's designed impeccably with brushed metal and wood everywhere. Interesting looking design magazines lined the counter and a 3rd gen. iPod played music softly over an Apple Hi-Fi (two of my favorite Apple product designs). I ordered a drip coffee that was hand dripped fastidiously. They offered me a tiny glass of chilled grapes with my cup. A subtle, but sublime touch that made the experience so much better. The shop was manned by a charming couple that gave me some recommendations for thing to do in Tokyo in halting English. Mostly museums and art related things. They were more American hipsters than Japanese hipsters.
Speaking of Japanese hipsters, Harajuku is full of exactly what you would envision when hearing that word. There's one particular street lined with shops and is mobbed with young people, mostly girls, dressed in outlandish costumes and with large, bleached hair. They ranged from almost normal looking to completely ridiculous. A lot of the costumes are like what you'd find at Halloween costume store selling slutty versions of everything. There were groups of girls wearing the exact same costume. The last girl pictured takes the cake for just being dressed as a pumpkin that's only slutty because of how short she's wearing it. This is something I noticed among women's fashion in Japan. Everything is extremely short and gives off the impression of wanting to look provocative, but it's an afterthought here with the rest of the outfit being super cutesy. This was also where I first encountered the maddening chorus of intensely nasal, high pitched shop girls calling for people to come in to their shops. For me it was like going to a toy store, finding a shelf of toys with voices, and pressing all of their buttons and listening to 50 toys repeat their prerecorded message. I don't know how those voices make anyone want to buy anything from them.
After a short break back at my hotel, I went out to Ginza. Ginza is the high end shopping district and home to the flagship Uniqlo store, which is 12 stories tall. Yeah. 12 stories. Even more astounding is the Abercrombie & Fitch next door that's even taller. One thing I found interesting, which continues the sentiment of many Harajuku girls wearing the exact same outfits, was that the two Abercrombie models manning the doors were dressed identically in the same plaid shirt and distressed jeans. I mentioned this in my initial post, but it really just kind of makes it feel like even the mentality of counter-culture in Japan is subject to a rigid subconscious drive to control every aspect of oneself.
Before dinner, I went to another coffee shop. Open since 1948, Café de l'Ambre in Ginza is a classic Japanese "kissaten" (coffee shop) and emphasizes mood and the quality of the cup. The sign outside proudly proclaims that they serve "Only Coffee" and that's exactly what you find. There's no food, other drinks, or even milk or sugar to speak of. Select the size of your cup and watch as each is dripped through a cotton filter from a copper kettle into a small copper pot and then transferred to a pre-warmed cup. It's a hypnotic process. I don't think I'm well versed enough in coffee to be able to appreciate the intricacies of the flavors I should have been tasting, but it was terribly fascinating just to watch the man execute his craft.
Afterward, I wandered through the Uniqlo a bit and actually found a few nice pieces, but realized I don't really have the proportions for clothes designed for skinny Asian guys. I then went to get dinner at Yakitori Ton Ton, which sits underneath the train tracks at the end of a long narrow corridor of bars and restaurants. The archway captures all the smoke and echoes all the noise back into the space. It's a crowded, raucous, smoky spot, but the food is great and if I knew more Japanese, I'm sure I'd have had better, longer conversations. I had pork, pork gizzard, chicken, and chicken meatballs. The chicken meatballs were amazing. I ordered 3 more skewers after my first one. I finished my beers and headed back to Shinjuku to crash after the first packed day of many more.
So this ended up being a lot longer and took a lot longer than I had anticipated. Each day in Japan was so packed though, that I don't really know how I can condense or speed it up. I might just have to do 8 more similarly massive posts. I've also not really had a lot of time to rest and recover after my trip, so I'm not sure at what pace I can keep this up. I'll do my best to keep these coming before I forget everything though.
I really just need one or two solid days to just do nothing, but I don't know when that'll happen. Where's all my free time these days?!
Monday, September 17
Japan (i): Cultural Observations
I got back from Japan at around 6pm this evening. I'm exhausted, my shoulders are killing me, and I picked up a sore throat on the plane somehow, but it was a fun 9 days. I'm not going to be able to get through my notes or near-1,900 photos today, so I thought I'd begin my Japan reflections (like I did after my trip to Spain) with a collection of random observations I made about Japan and my experience there:
Almost no one speaks English. I imagine how stupid I sounded just repeating "Thank You!", "Sorry!" There are hardly any trashcans. I'd find myself carrying around garbage for hours. There are bathrooms everywhere. Maps are drawn to a much larger scale than I first anticipated. The time it took to walk from place to place was much shorter than I would have thought. People always talk and write about the "pursuit of perfection" in craft in Japan and it really is true. From ramen to coffee to cocktails, there is such attention to detail. I take back everything I've ever said about Korean sounding annoying. The unending chorus of shop girls down an avenue of shops eventually made me want to shove chopsticks in my ears and swirl my brains around. There are crows everywhere. As a counterpoint to a culture so meticulous about presentation and craft, they totally miss the point when it comes to things like fashion. I walked by an Abercrombie & Fitch in Ginza and the two models out front were dressed identically in the same distressed jeans, maroon plaid shirts, and flip flops. Their hair identically bleached and swept haphazardly to the side. The idea of a unified sense of aesthetic for a brand notwithstanding, that struck me as representative of how restrained and structured even counter-culture is in Japan. Ramen in Japan is like pizza in New York. It's everywhere and even the bad places are better than those in other countries. Dancing is illegal in Fukuoka. I need to look up why.
So here's a shot that my table mates at the outdoor food stands (yatai) in Fukuoka along the canal offered to take for me after they watched me take pictures of my food. It's out of focus, I'm sweaty and gross. A pretty accurate depiction of the trip as a whole. I'll be getting to all my photos and thoughts in the coming weeks here. Now I need to go crash because I am running on fumes.
Almost no one speaks English. I imagine how stupid I sounded just repeating "Thank You!", "Sorry!" There are hardly any trashcans. I'd find myself carrying around garbage for hours. There are bathrooms everywhere. Maps are drawn to a much larger scale than I first anticipated. The time it took to walk from place to place was much shorter than I would have thought. People always talk and write about the "pursuit of perfection" in craft in Japan and it really is true. From ramen to coffee to cocktails, there is such attention to detail. I take back everything I've ever said about Korean sounding annoying. The unending chorus of shop girls down an avenue of shops eventually made me want to shove chopsticks in my ears and swirl my brains around. There are crows everywhere. As a counterpoint to a culture so meticulous about presentation and craft, they totally miss the point when it comes to things like fashion. I walked by an Abercrombie & Fitch in Ginza and the two models out front were dressed identically in the same distressed jeans, maroon plaid shirts, and flip flops. Their hair identically bleached and swept haphazardly to the side. The idea of a unified sense of aesthetic for a brand notwithstanding, that struck me as representative of how restrained and structured even counter-culture is in Japan. Ramen in Japan is like pizza in New York. It's everywhere and even the bad places are better than those in other countries. Dancing is illegal in Fukuoka. I need to look up why.
So here's a shot that my table mates at the outdoor food stands (yatai) in Fukuoka along the canal offered to take for me after they watched me take pictures of my food. It's out of focus, I'm sweaty and gross. A pretty accurate depiction of the trip as a whole. I'll be getting to all my photos and thoughts in the coming weeks here. Now I need to go crash because I am running on fumes.
Friday, September 7
Japan: A Prelude
I'm Japan-bound in about 9 hours. It's been something I've wanted to do for a while, so I'm glad of the chance. To set the mood, I picked up "Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman", a collection of Murakami short stories. I doubt it'll have the same resonance as rereading "The Sun Also Rises" in Spain had, considering Murakami's penchant for magical realism and talking spirit cats, but it should help get my mind in the right place. I also bought a fresh Moleskine to chronicle my days there.
A dilemma I face when planning trips are the contrary urges to plan as thoroughly and efficiently as possible and also to be able to wander and take things as they come. I already feel like I'm going to miss a lot of things, but that's unavoidable no matter how well I plan. Either way, I'm sure I'll see and eat a lot of awesome things.
I'm attempting to stay up tonight so that I can just pass out on the flight, but I'm beginning to get a little delirious. I may succumb to a few hours of sleep, but for those that follow me on any social networks, I will probably be spamming you all with daily pictures of bowls of ramen. Be forewarned.
I'll be back Monday the 17th. Direct any urgent souvenir requests to my gmail.
A dilemma I face when planning trips are the contrary urges to plan as thoroughly and efficiently as possible and also to be able to wander and take things as they come. I already feel like I'm going to miss a lot of things, but that's unavoidable no matter how well I plan. Either way, I'm sure I'll see and eat a lot of awesome things.
I'm attempting to stay up tonight so that I can just pass out on the flight, but I'm beginning to get a little delirious. I may succumb to a few hours of sleep, but for those that follow me on any social networks, I will probably be spamming you all with daily pictures of bowls of ramen. Be forewarned.
I'll be back Monday the 17th. Direct any urgent souvenir requests to my gmail.
Sunday, September 2
The Spider & The Colossi
I drove out to West Virginia this morning to photograph a private collection of giant fiber glass statues for a small segment in USA Today's travel magazine's upcoming feature on roadside Americana. George Farnham has been collecting these things for the past 8 years. He's collected 6 of these 20+ foot relics from 70s-80s era advertising and theme parks and many more smaller oddities (including a Simpsons roller coaster). His yard has been given the name "The Land of the Giants" or "The Farnham Colossi." Unfortunately, it was raining when I got there so I didn't get a chance to photograph them. I did get to talk to George though. He was an older man with spindly, shoulder length white hair. His home was unsurprisingly cluttered with odds and ends from all places and decades. Yellowed and tattered issues of Life magazine from the 60s. Trinkets from old carnivals and fairs. Rusted bird cages.
Shot with my Galaxy Nexus
As we stood under a tin awning of the small barn at the end of his gravel drive, George told me about how he began his collection when his wife bought him a classic Midas muffler man 8 years ago. About how West Virginia's nonexistent zoning laws allow him the freedom to erect anything he wants on his property. And how acquiring these statues has recently become much more expensive because his close friend that was a trucker and used to facilitate their shipment recently passed away. The rain fell lightly with a metallic tinging overhead. I looked around at the cobwebbed and dusty boxes of farm equipment and salvaged metal around us. Just outside the shelter were the remains of faded, multicolored sheet metal airplanes from a children's amusement park ride he'd been meaning to rebuild. In the corner of the roof, a large spiderweb draped downward from the wooden rafters. As I watched, a wasp fluttered haphazardly in the rain and into the web. It struggled against the adhesive silk. A quarter sized spider with a bulbous, spherical abdomen skittered down from the shadows to survey its catch, but stopped a few inches away. It observed the frantic wasp as if unsure of whether or not to attempt to subdue it. After a few moments, it retreated back into the shadows. The wasp freed itself and flew away. I looked back to George as he continued his rambling explanation of why he actually advocates for zoning in WV and noticed a small spider had woven a web in his hair.
As we stood under a tin awning of the small barn at the end of his gravel drive, George told me about how he began his collection when his wife bought him a classic Midas muffler man 8 years ago. About how West Virginia's nonexistent zoning laws allow him the freedom to erect anything he wants on his property. And how acquiring these statues has recently become much more expensive because his close friend that was a trucker and used to facilitate their shipment recently passed away. The rain fell lightly with a metallic tinging overhead. I looked around at the cobwebbed and dusty boxes of farm equipment and salvaged metal around us. Just outside the shelter were the remains of faded, multicolored sheet metal airplanes from a children's amusement park ride he'd been meaning to rebuild. In the corner of the roof, a large spiderweb draped downward from the wooden rafters. As I watched, a wasp fluttered haphazardly in the rain and into the web. It struggled against the adhesive silk. A quarter sized spider with a bulbous, spherical abdomen skittered down from the shadows to survey its catch, but stopped a few inches away. It observed the frantic wasp as if unsure of whether or not to attempt to subdue it. After a few moments, it retreated back into the shadows. The wasp freed itself and flew away. I looked back to George as he continued his rambling explanation of why he actually advocates for zoning in WV and noticed a small spider had woven a web in his hair.
Sunday, August 19
Wolves & Chimneys
It was a nice day today. Mild. Not humid. Felt a little off this week, so I went up to Catoctin Mountain Park for a short hike. Took the loop past Wolf Rock and Chimney Rock. There's probably a clever joke there somewhere involving the Three Little Pigs, but it escapes me.
I feel like I'm taking the same photographs over and over again. Maybe I need to insert myself into different situations. I think Japan will help with that.
I feel like I'm taking the same photographs over and over again. Maybe I need to insert myself into different situations. I think Japan will help with that.
Wednesday, August 1
C&O & S
Hung out with my friend S last weekend in DC. Stopped off in Georgetown for a bit. Got coffee at Baked & Wired. Took a few shots by the C&O Canal. Nothing much else to it.
Tuesday, July 10
Great Smoky Mountains (ii): Cherohala & Maple Springs
The next morning, after a few hours of unrestful sleep in my car in a deserted lot, I set off on the Cherohala Skyway. At just before dawn, the light was very faint and there was a dense fog as I reached higher elevations. The Skyway is, like Shenandoah's Skyline Drive, one of the many national parks' scenic byways and, I believe, the most costly in Great Smoky Mountains Park. As I drove over and around the peaks, the sun disappeared alternately behind trees, clouds, fogs, and mountains. As I rounded certain bends, I'd find myself at the perfect vantage point to view the sunrise. Overlooking a valley or framing the sun between mountains, the clouds filtering the morning sun into individual shafts of light.
I turned off into Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest, where there is a short trail leading to the Maple Springs Observation Point. After passing through a short stretch of dense forest, I arrived at a wooden platform that extends from a narrow formation and juts out from the rock. From there I watched the sun complete its ascent over the shrouded valleys below. It was quiet and peaceful.
After the sun rose higher in the sky and the temperature became uncomfortable, I passed through the rest of the park and started my drive back home. I drank a lot of caffeine on this trip and I don't normally. I think I'm getting caffeine headaches.
Sunday, July 8
Great Smoky Mountains (i): Gatlinburg, Charlie, & Rocks
This has become kind of my de-stress formula: drive somewhere alone, hike, listen to a lot of This American Life. I've found its effectiveness lies in exhaustion and diversion. Long drives and strenuous hikes are draining to the point where my ability to concentrate is reduced to single subjects - staying awake at the wheel or my next step. During stretches of drives without the threat of spontaneous naps, TAL is so thoroughly immersive that my own thoughts and feelings are replaced by those of the people in each episode. In recent years, it's become a good way to clear my head. I've been in need of some decompression, so I undertook a quick and dirty road trip this weekend. The first for my new car, perhaps of many.
On Friday night, I took a nap for a few hours after work and left my house at around 1am. I was heading to Great Smoky Mountains National Park in Tennessee. I drove through the night and arrived at the outskirts of the park just before noon. Before I go into anything else, I need to point out that Gatlinburg (the town just outside one of the main entrances to the park) is utterly repulsive. Imagine a trashy beach boardwalk mixed with a county fair and spread it out over a 10 mile stretch of road and you'll have an idea of what this town is like. Kitschy amusements and rides, arcades, novelty attractions, souvenir shops, untold numbers of KFCs, every manner of mini-golf courses - all rendered in oppressively bright, garish primary colors. I couldn't fathom what the hordes of tank-top clad, overweight white families were doing in this nightmare of uncultured consumer purgatory right in the shadow of the Smokies. The only redeeming thing about this place was the abundance of Chik-fil-As.
When I finally passed through Gatlinburg and entered the park, the byways were still pretty clogged with families milling about. It wasn't until I got to the section of the Appalachian Trail that I was headed to that the crowds thinned. I was hiking a 10 mile section to a place called Charlie's Bunion. So named for some historical guy and a foot injury or something. The bunion in question is a rocky outcropping along a high headland a couple of miles off from the AT. This section runs along the peaks such that it feels like walking atop the spine of the Appalachians at around 5-6000 feet and there are views of both sides of the range. Like I mentioned before, part of what I enjoy about hiking is the opportunity to tire myself out to the point of no longer thinking about everything. The other part is the sheer silence and solitude one can achieve sometimes. Nothing but the sound of gravel crunching underfoot, the Doppler buzzing of flying insects, the twittering of birds, the glug-glug of the water in my backpack, my labored breathing. Only the occasional and faint echo of voices of fellow hikers to dispel the illusion of isolation.
I'm not sure if this is unusual or not, but I really enjoy the sound of rocks against rocks. On particularly rocky portions of trails I'll deliberately drag my feet to push rocks into one another just to hear them clink and clack. There's just something so gratifyingly tactile about it. I guess it might be similar to how people love to pop bubble wrap, but less about the feel so much as the sound of it.
I'm going to leave the rest of this post for tomorrow. While my body has always proven to be extraordinarily resilient - in that I slept 3 hours Friday night, drove 9 hours, hiked for 7 hours, slept 2 hours, hiked again, then drove another 9 hours back home, all while eating only one real meal, and am still conscious - I'm reaching a point where I'm going to crash in spectacular fashion. I'm having trouble focusing my vision and my depth perception is getting very unreliable. Tomorrow will be tiring, but this weekend was a good opportunity to clear some cobwebs.
Monday awaits.
On Friday night, I took a nap for a few hours after work and left my house at around 1am. I was heading to Great Smoky Mountains National Park in Tennessee. I drove through the night and arrived at the outskirts of the park just before noon. Before I go into anything else, I need to point out that Gatlinburg (the town just outside one of the main entrances to the park) is utterly repulsive. Imagine a trashy beach boardwalk mixed with a county fair and spread it out over a 10 mile stretch of road and you'll have an idea of what this town is like. Kitschy amusements and rides, arcades, novelty attractions, souvenir shops, untold numbers of KFCs, every manner of mini-golf courses - all rendered in oppressively bright, garish primary colors. I couldn't fathom what the hordes of tank-top clad, overweight white families were doing in this nightmare of uncultured consumer purgatory right in the shadow of the Smokies. The only redeeming thing about this place was the abundance of Chik-fil-As.
When I finally passed through Gatlinburg and entered the park, the byways were still pretty clogged with families milling about. It wasn't until I got to the section of the Appalachian Trail that I was headed to that the crowds thinned. I was hiking a 10 mile section to a place called Charlie's Bunion. So named for some historical guy and a foot injury or something. The bunion in question is a rocky outcropping along a high headland a couple of miles off from the AT. This section runs along the peaks such that it feels like walking atop the spine of the Appalachians at around 5-6000 feet and there are views of both sides of the range. Like I mentioned before, part of what I enjoy about hiking is the opportunity to tire myself out to the point of no longer thinking about everything. The other part is the sheer silence and solitude one can achieve sometimes. Nothing but the sound of gravel crunching underfoot, the Doppler buzzing of flying insects, the twittering of birds, the glug-glug of the water in my backpack, my labored breathing. Only the occasional and faint echo of voices of fellow hikers to dispel the illusion of isolation.
I'm not sure if this is unusual or not, but I really enjoy the sound of rocks against rocks. On particularly rocky portions of trails I'll deliberately drag my feet to push rocks into one another just to hear them clink and clack. There's just something so gratifyingly tactile about it. I guess it might be similar to how people love to pop bubble wrap, but less about the feel so much as the sound of it.
I'm going to leave the rest of this post for tomorrow. While my body has always proven to be extraordinarily resilient - in that I slept 3 hours Friday night, drove 9 hours, hiked for 7 hours, slept 2 hours, hiked again, then drove another 9 hours back home, all while eating only one real meal, and am still conscious - I'm reaching a point where I'm going to crash in spectacular fashion. I'm having trouble focusing my vision and my depth perception is getting very unreliable. Tomorrow will be tiring, but this weekend was a good opportunity to clear some cobwebs.
Monday awaits.
Thursday, July 5
4th & U
Not one for crowds of biblical proportions, I spent this 4th of July with some friends at a new rooftop bar on U St. (the Brixton). It's a British bar and, nursing a German beer, the irony was not lost on me. Nevertheless, we had a clear view of the fireworks. It was an enjoyable evening and a welcome mid-week diversion. It's just unfortunate that tomorrow is a work day.
In other news, after weeks of compulsively scouring travel sites for a good deal on a flight, I'm going to Japan from September 7-17th. It's something I've been wanting to do for a long time. My tentative itinerary is to spend the first few days in Tokyo, then a day or so in Kyoto, maybe do the Magome-Tsumago hike, then to Fukuoka-Hakata for ramen. Fukuoka is pretty far west from Tokyo and, despite the travel time involved, I don't think I can be in Japan and NOT go there to eat the best ramen in the world.
It's amazing how having something to look forward to can make work less tedious.
In other news, after weeks of compulsively scouring travel sites for a good deal on a flight, I'm going to Japan from September 7-17th. It's something I've been wanting to do for a long time. My tentative itinerary is to spend the first few days in Tokyo, then a day or so in Kyoto, maybe do the Magome-Tsumago hike, then to Fukuoka-Hakata for ramen. Fukuoka is pretty far west from Tokyo and, despite the travel time involved, I don't think I can be in Japan and NOT go there to eat the best ramen in the world.
It's amazing how having something to look forward to can make work less tedious.
Saturday, June 16
this hushed and mazy sunday
He crossed the cabin and stretched himself out on the cot. Closing his eyes. A faint breeze from the window stirring his hair. The shantyboat trembled slightly in the river and one of the steel drums beneath the floor expanded in the heat with a melancholy bong. Eyes resting. This hushed and mazy Sunday. The heart beneath the breastbone pumping. The blood on its appointed rounds. Life in small places, narrow crannies. In the leaves, the toad's pulse. The delicate cellular warfare in a waterdrop. A dextrocardiac, said the smiling doctor. Your heart's in the right place. Weathershrunk and loveless. The skin drawn and split like an overripe fruit.
Suttree, Cormac McCarthy
Monday, June 11
A + S
A classmate of mine from BU is in town for a few days. Another classmate is currently working in D.C., but works too much to ever get around to doing or seeing anything. So today involved running around eating/seeing a bunch of usual D.C. things. Brunch in Logan Circle, Eastern Market, memorials, checked out the NY Ave. Beach Bar, and a few other things. While reviewing my pictures at the end of the day, they joked that it looked like a full day following a lesbian couple. I'm inclined to agree. It was unreasonably hot today.
I'm also currently in possession of a friend's 60D for a few days. It's really making me aware of how dated my camera is. The impending prospect of international travel also makes me painfully aware that I am overdue for an upgrade.
I'm also currently in possession of a friend's 60D for a few days. It's really making me aware of how dated my camera is. The impending prospect of international travel also makes me painfully aware that I am overdue for an upgrade.
Sunday, May 27
Maps
Sometimes I open Google Maps, zoom out a bit, and just stare. I think of my work schedule and where I could reasonably drive to to steal a few days of solitude and quiet. One weekend soon, I'll throw some clothes in my bag and hop in my car.
Saturday, May 26
the fire rises
Permit me, for a moment, to enter nerd mode. I'm excited for The Dark Knight Rises, as I'm sure are many of you. Really what I'm most looking forward to about it, though, is Chris Nolan's interpretation of Bane. The Dark Knight was really an order of magnitude better than Batman Begins. Begins was silly and cartoonish and more like an episode of the animated series (which was excellent, don't get me wrong). After Begins was successful and Nolan had a blank check to do whatever he wanted, he was able to do what he does best. Nolan is at his best telling stories that subtly subvert ones perception of reality. Even considering TDK, my favorite Nolan movies are still Memento and The Prestige. He was able to use Joker as his mind-fuck in TDK, with considerable thanks to Heath Ledger. Movie tropes notwithstanding, the Joker has always traditionally been the villain that was Batman's mental equal. TDK was one of the first major comic films that had a real rival to the hero. No megalomaniacal plot for world domination/destruction, no crazy technology. Just a dangerous villain to be dealt with intimately and purposefully (to be fair, Spiderman 1's final face-off with Norman Osborn was quite good). In this regard, Bane is a better foil for Batman even than the Joker.
While Joker is arguably the most dangerous figure in Batman's rogues gallery in a volatile sense, Bane has always been the most direct threat. Joker could construct elaborate, psychopathic scenarios to torture Batman, but he could never stand up to him in a straight fight. On the other hand, Bane is both a genius and a super bad-ass. Having both deduced Batman's true identity and outsmarted him, he humiliated Batman by literally breaking him and assuming control of Gotham. Now, in a Chris Nolan world, I fully expect Bane to be realized as the cerebral, urban tactician that he deserves to be and the hulking monster most people identify him as. But I really dig the aesthetic that Nolan's gone for in TDKR. It's not cartoonish. No lucha libre mask. Just a bad-ass Tom Hardy with a guerrilla army at his back. Bane is Batman's true equal and the recent release of posters and banners really highlight that rivalry.
One of my few complaints about TDK (I have more for Begins) is that, for everything else that he does so well, Nolan is not that great of an action/fight director. His action is often muddled and incoherent. As he's done more action movies, it's improved. I'm really hoping TDKR is able to deliver a great Batman/Bane fight. I hope it's intimate and brutal, but most of all I hope it's spatially legible and well edited!
I'm also currently reading Scott Snyder's run on Batman in DC's reboot, the New 52. It's pretty fantastic.
/nerd
Sunday, May 13
Happenings
So life has been fairly uneventful lately. I've more or less settled into the work life routine. I spend my free time and weekends doing things to distract myself. Hiking (see previous post), shows (I saw Andrew Bird last week and he was awesome), planning hypothetical vacations (anyone want to travel late summer?), and eating a lot of good food. Of the last point in particular, I've entered into something a little more official. I've recently become a D.C. area contributor for the food blog, Serious Eats, and I've had a couple of posts up so far. It's a little difficult for me to write in a voice that's not totally my own and for a public audience, but I suspect I'll get the hang of it. I figure, I search out good food and blog about it here sometimes anyway, it'll provide somewhat of a tangible aspect to recreational eating/blogging.
This was what I ate today and will write up for a post for SE's "A Sandwich A Day" column. It's ChurchKey's fried chicken Luther (fried chicken + bacon + doughnut). My post will go up on SE in the next couple of days, so to avoid a duplication of effort, look for my write-up there!
[Edit: It's up here.]
On another note, since I've started this blog, there have been periods of decreased activity during times where I've had a lot of schoolwork or was just stuck in the doldrums of routine. I think, despite my best efforts, I'm in a period of the latter. For all my years of being bothered by this, I've yet to come up with a good solution to this. I'm beginning to think it's my fault. There is, however, one major distraction coming up this week. To avoid outing myself as a total nerd (for those not already privy to this fact), I'll just say, May 15th will be an interesting day.
This was what I ate today and will write up for a post for SE's "A Sandwich A Day" column. It's ChurchKey's fried chicken Luther (fried chicken + bacon + doughnut). My post will go up on SE in the next couple of days, so to avoid a duplication of effort, look for my write-up there!
[Edit: It's up here.]
On another note, since I've started this blog, there have been periods of decreased activity during times where I've had a lot of schoolwork or was just stuck in the doldrums of routine. I think, despite my best efforts, I'm in a period of the latter. For all my years of being bothered by this, I've yet to come up with a good solution to this. I'm beginning to think it's my fault. There is, however, one major distraction coming up this week. To avoid outing myself as a total nerd (for those not already privy to this fact), I'll just say, May 15th will be an interesting day.
Monday, April 16
rag & bonnie
This weekend I went on a sunrise hike at Old Rag in Shenandoah. I've hiked Old Rag close to 10 times at this point, with this weekend being the 3rd sunrise I've caught there. No matter how many times I see it, the star filled sky away from the light pollution of major cities is always absolutely breathtaking. Unfortunately, a smattering of clouds rolled in as we drew near the summit, but we had a couple hours of unobscured views (except by trees) of a sky that resembled a black table cloth with an upended saltshaker. The sunrise was also, as always, beautiful as it lit up the foggy Shenandoah Valley, if a bit uncomfortable due to the windchill.
There was one thing, though, that made this hike different from previous visits. Her name is Bonnie. It's common knowledge to Old Rag regulars that there are a few dogs that roam the trail. Their owners are locals in the area and, although pets aren't technically allowed on the trail, they're left more or less to their own devices. I've seen these dogs before, but have never really interacted with them. As we began our descent from the summit after the sunrise, it wasn't long before I met Bonnie. Bonnie is a floppy eared, black and white Border Collie. She approached me at the beginning of one of the rock scrambles. I reached out to pat her, but she recoiled slightly - not in fear or aggression, but it was clear that she was not going to let me touch her. I took the hint and kept on down the trail. Bonnie followed.
Bonnie began to trot ahead of us about 20-30 paces and stop. She'd turn around and watch until I caught up before continuing on ahead again for a short distance. At first I didn't think it was possible, but it soon became clear that she was guiding us down the trail. She knew where all the trail markers were, knew the best way down the rock scrambles, and would always make sure we were going to the right way before continuing on. When we stopped for breaks, Bonnie would pad back to where we were and lie down patiently at my side, but she still wouldn't let me pet her. Every few minutes, Bonnie would pick out a stick from the side of the trail, drop it in front of me and wait for me to throw it. Some of the sticks she chose were either too big for her, some were twice as long as her, or were just roots of plants that she did her best to dig up.
Not only was Bonnie leading us down the trail, if another hiker got too close to us or tried to touch her, she'd bark and growl at them. She even lunged at a few hikers. She was fiercely protective. This continued the entire 4 hour descent. I'm not entirely sure why Bonnie decided to take us under her wing, but it was almost magical. Animal social behavior is always fascinating to me and to see in Bonnie behavior that is so distinctly human was captivating. I felt like I was in a Disney movie. When we got to the trail head, I wish I could have given Bonnie a scratch behind the ears and some beef jerky, but she disappeared in a flash. I suppose she saw us down safely and had other things to attend to. Shimu might be a cute lapdog, but I wish I could have taken Bonnie home. She belongs in the wild though.
On another note, a quick plug: One of my oldest friends recently launched a campaign for the National Bone Marrow Registry, called Cheekswab. He's been recruiting donors in the region through the site and drives throughout the area. The picture below is one I took of him giving a talk at our old church on Friday about how his circumstances have led to the creation of Cheekswab and a drive to combat illnesses like leukemia and lymphoma. If you have a minute to spare, please check out his or the NBMR site and register to become a donor.
There was one thing, though, that made this hike different from previous visits. Her name is Bonnie. It's common knowledge to Old Rag regulars that there are a few dogs that roam the trail. Their owners are locals in the area and, although pets aren't technically allowed on the trail, they're left more or less to their own devices. I've seen these dogs before, but have never really interacted with them. As we began our descent from the summit after the sunrise, it wasn't long before I met Bonnie. Bonnie is a floppy eared, black and white Border Collie. She approached me at the beginning of one of the rock scrambles. I reached out to pat her, but she recoiled slightly - not in fear or aggression, but it was clear that she was not going to let me touch her. I took the hint and kept on down the trail. Bonnie followed.
Bonnie began to trot ahead of us about 20-30 paces and stop. She'd turn around and watch until I caught up before continuing on ahead again for a short distance. At first I didn't think it was possible, but it soon became clear that she was guiding us down the trail. She knew where all the trail markers were, knew the best way down the rock scrambles, and would always make sure we were going to the right way before continuing on. When we stopped for breaks, Bonnie would pad back to where we were and lie down patiently at my side, but she still wouldn't let me pet her. Every few minutes, Bonnie would pick out a stick from the side of the trail, drop it in front of me and wait for me to throw it. Some of the sticks she chose were either too big for her, some were twice as long as her, or were just roots of plants that she did her best to dig up.
Not only was Bonnie leading us down the trail, if another hiker got too close to us or tried to touch her, she'd bark and growl at them. She even lunged at a few hikers. She was fiercely protective. This continued the entire 4 hour descent. I'm not entirely sure why Bonnie decided to take us under her wing, but it was almost magical. Animal social behavior is always fascinating to me and to see in Bonnie behavior that is so distinctly human was captivating. I felt like I was in a Disney movie. When we got to the trail head, I wish I could have given Bonnie a scratch behind the ears and some beef jerky, but she disappeared in a flash. I suppose she saw us down safely and had other things to attend to. Shimu might be a cute lapdog, but I wish I could have taken Bonnie home. She belongs in the wild though.
On another note, a quick plug: One of my oldest friends recently launched a campaign for the National Bone Marrow Registry, called Cheekswab. He's been recruiting donors in the region through the site and drives throughout the area. The picture below is one I took of him giving a talk at our old church on Friday about how his circumstances have led to the creation of Cheekswab and a drive to combat illnesses like leukemia and lymphoma. If you have a minute to spare, please check out his or the NBMR site and register to become a donor.
Sunday, March 18
Spring Redundancy
Familiarity really dulls my ability to appreciate the beauty in things. Repetition and routine make it hard for me to see what I should. I wish I could see the cherry blossoms for the first time again. Read my favorite books for the first time. See my favorite movies.
I need more wonder in my life.
I need more wonder in my life.
Tuesday, March 6
DTLA, Getty, & Griffith
I was in LA this past weekend. Went without too much of a plan. Gave a few friends a heads up that I was coming, made a few notes of things to eat/see/do, and flew out. The first day I met up with my friend, A, from BU and hung out in Downtown LA and Echo Park. We went to this very cool sausage place, Wurstküche, where I had a pork and alligator sausage. More or less immediately after, we headed to Cole's, which is allegedly the originator of the french dip sandwich. We sat in the darkest corner of the bar for a while to escape the midday heat having a few drinks. Cole's was actually my third lunch that day - before those two I went with another friend, J, to Din Tai Fung. I was told it was the best Taiwanese food this side of Taipei, but I can't say that I could tell the difference. Shanghai Cafe for me any day. Don't judge me.
After my superfluous lunches, we went and hung out in Echo Park, where A used to live. We got super hipster coffee from Intelligentsia, where almost every worker wore a ridiculous hat and looked like they were dressed as Hemingway characters. We wandered a bit, in and out of record and comic shops. Eventually we found ourselves at a Spanish bar, the name of which escapes me. Over some giant margaritas, we witnessed what appeared to me some old Spanish high rollers partying with old Spanish prostitutes while a live mariachi band played in the corner. It was surreal.
The next day, I went to check out the Getty Center. It was beautiful. I always find that it kind of takes the wind out of my sails when I try to photograph something so iconic with 100 other Asian tourists around me with cameras. This is part of why I love nature photography. Photographing a landscape, iconic or not, after a hike feels more earned. Either way, I took a few shots and browsed the galleries. Eventually I took a nap in the shade of a column on the veranda. It was warm and quiet. A humming bird flew by my ear, weaving in and out of the tall stemmed flowers in an adjacent planter. I haven't seen many humming birds in my life. I watched its precise, punctuated movements until it flew away.
That afternoon, J and I went up to the Griffith Observatory. It was right around sunset and the views were breathtaking. The sky was clear and there was a cool breeze. J pointed out that one downside to such a beautiful day was that everyone has the same idea. The observatory was teeming with families and couples
When the sun dipped below the horizon and the lights of the city grew brighter, I couldn't help indulging in some bokeh.
That evening, I linked up with another friend, C, from back home. We went to Pizzeria Mozza for dinner and it was pretty damned good. I had read that Mozza made the best crust in LA and, though I didn't have anything to compare it to, I'd be inclined to agree. C and I caught up over our pizzas and wine, after which, the both of us pretty tired, we crashed relatively early.
The next morning I got up early and flew home. It was a good weekend. Back to the grind in the morning.
After my superfluous lunches, we went and hung out in Echo Park, where A used to live. We got super hipster coffee from Intelligentsia, where almost every worker wore a ridiculous hat and looked like they were dressed as Hemingway characters. We wandered a bit, in and out of record and comic shops. Eventually we found ourselves at a Spanish bar, the name of which escapes me. Over some giant margaritas, we witnessed what appeared to me some old Spanish high rollers partying with old Spanish prostitutes while a live mariachi band played in the corner. It was surreal.
The next day, I went to check out the Getty Center. It was beautiful. I always find that it kind of takes the wind out of my sails when I try to photograph something so iconic with 100 other Asian tourists around me with cameras. This is part of why I love nature photography. Photographing a landscape, iconic or not, after a hike feels more earned. Either way, I took a few shots and browsed the galleries. Eventually I took a nap in the shade of a column on the veranda. It was warm and quiet. A humming bird flew by my ear, weaving in and out of the tall stemmed flowers in an adjacent planter. I haven't seen many humming birds in my life. I watched its precise, punctuated movements until it flew away.
That afternoon, J and I went up to the Griffith Observatory. It was right around sunset and the views were breathtaking. The sky was clear and there was a cool breeze. J pointed out that one downside to such a beautiful day was that everyone has the same idea. The observatory was teeming with families and couples
When the sun dipped below the horizon and the lights of the city grew brighter, I couldn't help indulging in some bokeh.
That evening, I linked up with another friend, C, from back home. We went to Pizzeria Mozza for dinner and it was pretty damned good. I had read that Mozza made the best crust in LA and, though I didn't have anything to compare it to, I'd be inclined to agree. C and I caught up over our pizzas and wine, after which, the both of us pretty tired, we crashed relatively early.
The next morning I got up early and flew home. It was a good weekend. Back to the grind in the morning.
Monday, February 20
no one else could hear its call
"Then, all at once, he thought of the ocean - the ocean he had seen from the deck of the ship that brought him from Japan to Manchuria. he had never seen the ocean before, nor had he seen it since. That had happened eight years ago. He could still remember the smell of the salt air. The ocean was one of the greatest things he had ever seen in his life - bigger and deeper than anything he had imagined. It changed its color and shape and expression according to time and place and weather. It aroused a deep sadness in his heart, and at the same time it brought his heart peace and comfort. Would he ever see it again? He loosened his grip and let the bat fall to the ground. It made a dry sound as it struck the earth. After the bat left his hands, he felt a slight increase in his nausea.
The wind-up bird went on crying, but no one else could hear its call."
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, Haruki Murakami
Sunday, January 22
Puppy Porn
We got Shimu from our neighbors and one of Shimu's litter mates recently had puppies. This is his nephew. It was a little difficult getting anything in focus with this little guy running around incessantly and trying to steal Shimu's toys and blanket. It's hard to believe Shimu used to be that size.
Friday, January 20
Post School, Work, & Wolverine
It's an odd feeling being back home and done with school. Suddenly the timeline for all my plans is so much longer. Career goals, savings, personal projects, and other things concerning life now extend for, well, forever. There's no significant foreseeable interruption (God forbid I go back for a Ph.D.) and it's a new feeling. I took a look around my house and found some pictures of myself from my childhood. It's an interesting thing to be able to see how much I've changed both outwardly and inwardly. These are a few photographs from the early '90's:
If it isn't clear, I'm the littler one in the first picture with my older brother. I appear to be wearing some awesome looking boat shoes and some sweet corduroy overalls. As I got older I went through some pretty embarrassing phases (let's all of us forget the long AZN bangs period). It's only been very recently that I've felt as though my personality has stabilized somewhat into a state where I can build and grow on a foundation of sense and willingness to change. As much as I dread, if facetiously, getting older, I look forward to opportunities to challenge myself and become more of a complete human being.
Speaking of entering real adult life, I recently accepted a position at a prominent development consulting firm. I really like the company and the work they do and it's encouraging to be going into a job knowing that I want to be with them for the long haul. I haven't started yet though, so how it will actually play out remains to be seen.
On another note, I recently picked up a pair of Wolverine's 1000 Mile Bradford Oxford. It took me a long time to track down a pair in my size (they were a one season release back in 2010). They are fantastic. They're made with Horween Chromexcel (like the Oak Street Trail Oxfords) and it smells and feels so good, it probably wouldn't take much convincing for me to eat them... Or, you know... I'll just wear them. I'm totally sold on Wolverine now though. Once I start getting paid again, I may have to pick up a pair of 1000 Mile boots.
If it isn't clear, I'm the littler one in the first picture with my older brother. I appear to be wearing some awesome looking boat shoes and some sweet corduroy overalls. As I got older I went through some pretty embarrassing phases (let's all of us forget the long AZN bangs period). It's only been very recently that I've felt as though my personality has stabilized somewhat into a state where I can build and grow on a foundation of sense and willingness to change. As much as I dread, if facetiously, getting older, I look forward to opportunities to challenge myself and become more of a complete human being.
Speaking of entering real adult life, I recently accepted a position at a prominent development consulting firm. I really like the company and the work they do and it's encouraging to be going into a job knowing that I want to be with them for the long haul. I haven't started yet though, so how it will actually play out remains to be seen.
On another note, I recently picked up a pair of Wolverine's 1000 Mile Bradford Oxford. It took me a long time to track down a pair in my size (they were a one season release back in 2010). They are fantastic. They're made with Horween Chromexcel (like the Oak Street Trail Oxfords) and it smells and feels so good, it probably wouldn't take much convincing for me to eat them... Or, you know... I'll just wear them. I'm totally sold on Wolverine now though. Once I start getting paid again, I may have to pick up a pair of 1000 Mile boots.
Monday, January 2
2011 Retrospective
2011 was a good year. Some firsts, some lasts. Traveled. Good friends. Finished school. I've put together a handful of shots I've taken this year of memorable moments:
Unfortunately, it kind of cuts off right after the summer. I haven't had much opportunity to take my camera out very often this last semester or be very active on here. Here's hoping I'll have a lot more to share here in 2012.
So, I've finished graduate school with a Masters in Global Development Economics and the job hunt is underway. I'll refrain from any speculation or moaning on that subject for a while.
On a more personal note, I've mentioned that I've learned a not insignificant amount about myself through my time in grad. school. I think I've changed a good bit for the better, but have also stagnated in some other areas that could do with some improvement. That's a bit cryptic, but suffice it to say I plan on taking greater initiative in being deliberately mindful about some areas of my life that I've not given as much thought to as I have in the past (...that's not any less cryptic.) If nothing else, I think I may at least be a little less tightly wound. Maybe...
I hope everyone had a great New Years and has a happy, healthy, and adventure-filled 2012.
Unfortunately, it kind of cuts off right after the summer. I haven't had much opportunity to take my camera out very often this last semester or be very active on here. Here's hoping I'll have a lot more to share here in 2012.
So, I've finished graduate school with a Masters in Global Development Economics and the job hunt is underway. I'll refrain from any speculation or moaning on that subject for a while.
On a more personal note, I've mentioned that I've learned a not insignificant amount about myself through my time in grad. school. I think I've changed a good bit for the better, but have also stagnated in some other areas that could do with some improvement. That's a bit cryptic, but suffice it to say I plan on taking greater initiative in being deliberately mindful about some areas of my life that I've not given as much thought to as I have in the past (...that's not any less cryptic.) If nothing else, I think I may at least be a little less tightly wound. Maybe...
I hope everyone had a great New Years and has a happy, healthy, and adventure-filled 2012.
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