Odelia Chan

This sentence in The Eyes of the Skin by Juhani Pallasmaa shakes me, challenges me: “It is clear that only the distancing and detaching sense of vision is capable of a nihilistic attitude; it is impossible to think of a nihilistic sense of touch, for inst…

Need I the attention of man when I have the company of God – and of all creation?

Objective things matter more than subjective things, do they not?

Why not?

A little whimsical, perhaps — but this is a thought worthy of perusing and perhaps implementing as a poetic approach to the troubles of being an imperfect being.

I live at the edge of the city, right between forests, farmland, and the busiest intersection in town.

The process of creation never ceases to fascinate me.

It is unsettling to read something that says what I have never dared to put into words.

It is something close to grief, the slow realization that a person no longer means what they once did to you; that your heart no longer beats quicker upon hearing their voice; that their quirks now make you squirm instead of smile.

Dear ____: You know me as the quiet, cooperative Asian woman (probably wearing a purple headscarf) wielding a dust-sucker or a rake in and around your home.