making & making & making &

Last month (now two months ago, since this post took me a full month to write) I hit a huge milestone for myself - I was part of a small, informal ceramics show here in Brooklyn.

Endings are hard, beginnings are hard, returning to something you abandoned feels the hardest.

I learned a few weeks ago that my favorite dumplings in my hometown don't exist anymore.

This past month I stumbled upon a desire, or really a fixation, on watching a movie every single day for the entirety of July.

Cold Spring, NY - thinking about the way the light hits this little stream A LOT lately After a week and a half of constantly being around other people and traveling for fun and for work and for family, it is a huge relief to be back at home and reacquain…

When Sung and I moved in together, one of the first things we ever established as part of living together is that my desk was an untouchable zone.

colored pencils, 2021 There are nights, like tonight, that remind me in ways of what it was like when I first moved to the city over 7 years ago.

If you've ever been to our apartment, you will know that the top shelf of our bookshelf is reserved for my favorite authors and their collection of works.

If there's anything I've osmosed from my mother over the past few years is to (a) believe that anything can become art and (b) to prepare indefinitely for the opportunity to strike by becoming a little bit of a hoarder.

Earlier, when I finished setting up my home page, after agonizing over it for at least an hour, I gushed to Sung that this felt just like when I agonized over the CSS for my tumblr back in highschool.