I grew up in Orange County, moved to Seoul, Korea when I was 16, came back to the States for college (in Ohio, of all places) and now live in Oakland. I’m married to an acupuncturist, and we have a young daughter who’s referred to as O on this blog. I like to watch sci fi movies and dream about Hawaii with my husband. O and I, every week we tend to her plot at the community gardens near Lake Merritt. We’ve harvested lettuce, kale, snap peas, gnarled carrots, and sprigs of rosemary for when we have roast chicken. The first picture is of me and O at her first wedding. The second is of my two muses, Husband and daughter, now a sassy toddler.
I teach English to adult immigrants and refugees at a job training school in San Francisco, and I like to write. I’ve written in a journal since I was in middle school when the written word became a sort of refuge and place to make sense of things. I majored in creative writing and visual arts during college but didn’t do too much with my double degree except take more workshops and get a couple writings published in small press anthologies. Through all these years I’ve written more for myself.
I somehow came to the decision to finally commit to sharing my writing. To hold it out into the unknown and see what happens. I came across a passage by Henri Nouwen that helped me articulate a possible purpose for my writing. What would it be like to create a space that gives ourselves a chance to discover an unexpected perspective on our lives? To bravely seek the truth of ourselves and the world we live in- especially the messy yet glorious heart of all matters.
Henri Nouwen writes in America:
As a seer, the minister reveals a presence that had not been noticed before. The problems of life often overwhelm us. The disappointments and disillusionments in personal and professional life tend to narrow our vision and often blind us to anything beyond our own problem. The concreteness and immediacy of present misery seldom permit sufficient distance to see and experience a larger presence. Ministry is the spiritual act of seeing and helping others see the face of a loving God even when nothing but darkness seems to be present.