age-appropriate attire

Today I tried out a couple of party dresses for my 30th birthday party next week. I was down to two choices which represented two different personas.

The first one was a cute turquoise braided-halter dress with flower prints at the hem. When I tried it on for the first time, I fell in love with it, mainly because it fit very well on my small frame. The second time I tried it on, however, I noticed that it revealed a lot of skin and I felt (and maybe appeared) a little naked, with my pale farmer's tan-esque upper arms and shoulders overpowering the pretty braided straps I was so impressed by previously. I realized that I no longer had the girlish figure that could wear that dress very well, and realized that I had to let go of looking like a Mischa Barton ingenue-wannabe.

The second dress was a purple va-va-voom dress that fit like a glove and gave me curves I didn't know I had (and slightly accentuated my pot belly, but in a flattering womanly way, if possible). Think sort of Isabella Rosselini's mistress character in "Big Night." It looked a little funny on me with my usual ponytail. However, I let loose the ponytail, and *voila* I transformed into a "woman" with sexy shoulder-length hair bouncing off my shoulders. This dress celebrated the fact that I had a little more meat on, compared to my earlier ingenue days. I felt like a cougar.

In the end, though, I opted to get neither of the dresses. I felt like they made me look too old.

I realized I felt more comfortable with my outfit from my 29th birthday party last year - a tank top with jeans, black flats, and a spankin' new haircut. As I walked out the clothing store, I wracked my brain for ways to re-invent myself. I thought of cutting my hair even shorter than I did last year...maybe a buzz cut? or Rihanna cut?

Then I wondered if maybe I was trying to delay the inevitable, of looking "my age" and like "a woman." I noted how resistant I was to wearing my hair down and going for the curvier dress because it seemed hyper-feminine. Was my wanting to boy-ify my hair and, essentially, my party-wear, my way of re-living my edgier college days, but now into my 30's adulthood?

I'd like to think not, and that I just happen to be a gal from the Bay Area who's in touch with her casual and funky side brewed in the mixes of Los Angeles and Boston. But who knows.

What do you think?


Image from La Dolce Vita

giving up is not an option

After watching my orchid plant lose all of its flowers and its stem turn brown for a while, I needed to decide whether I was going to put more effort into keeping it alive, or let it die, and act immediately.

I decided to save it, which meant doing some research and later de-potting the plant and airing out what I later discovered were some overwatered and now rotting roots that were unable to absorb the water the plant needed.

Coincidentally, I was doing some de-potting in my personal life. Not surprisingly, just as I was approaching my fourth week of non-stop briefing for work, I was feeling stressed, frustrated, and like I was going to die if something didn't change. I was depressed and anxious. This was nothing new. I already knew that my job didn't fulfill me, and that I ultimately want to do film and music, or "art" full-time. But there were deeper issues I had to confront, like the painful question or statement (depending on how you viewed it), "Carolyn, you are almost 30 years old; when are you going to stop waiting to live your life, and just live it?" I, of course, revisited the cliched dilemma of balancing your dreams with the need to make a living; but I knew there was something more uncomfortable at the core underlying this.

What did I really believe about myself? What I had to face was the possibility that I thought I didn't have the talent worthwhile to sacrifice the security I have in my job now. While I whine about how my job doesn't allow me to follow my dreams, I may be the one that's stopping me.

How was this informed by my experiences with my family? There is no denying that my parents have emphasized to me that I am not talented enough to do anything more with my crafts except to keep them as hobbies. Although a futile exercise, I sometimes fantasize what it would feel like to have parents that believed in me in something I felt so strongly about. How I wished I wouldn't be so afraid of failing.

It hurts to recognize these things, but I know it's necessary to just lay it out there, exposed, raw, if I'm going to be able to receive anything good out of life.

And I must act immediately - I can't lie to myself anymore. And I must try to revive the person I want to be that I may have been neglecting for some while. So, on the upside, I am not waiting anymore to make films again. I have started researching on and am making plans to make movies in the near future...


To be continued...

pining

Movies like this fan my desire to make a simple, charming low-budget film.


This stars Justin Rice, the frontman of the band Bishop Allen, and also the lead in "Mutual Appreciation," a film by Andrew Bujalski. Bujalski's films, too, have given me hope that I can maybe one day make an interesting film with "limited resources" (i.e., non-professional cast members played by his friends) and a non-traditional narrative style.

Since we're on the topic of great indie films, "The Motel," directed by Michael Kang, is another movie that I've been meaning to see but haven't had a chance yet (since it was a limited release). Before I started law school, I actually interviewed to be a script reader for Sundance, and my "test" was to read two scripts, analyze them, and determine which script was better suited for Sundance. "The Motel" was one of the assigned scripts and I couldn't put it down. I got the gig, but unfortunately, I couldn't be a regular script reader while going to school outside of Los Angeles; so I turned it down. I was so thrilled later to see the script come to fruition into this film.

One day, one day...

rainbows

Today, as I was turning a corner on my pre-sunset walk in the light rain, I was suddenly bombarded by a vibrant rainbow ahead of me. It was so loud and robust, so technicolor-ally present, that all I could do was just stare in awe as I walked "closer" and closer to it. As I continued to walk onto College Avenue with my eyes fixed on the sky, it was as if I had walked into a movie scene where people everywhere were stopping, coming out of the coffeeshops and their cars, and all - adults, children, old people - were looking up and pointing at the sky. As I was marveling at the people's reactions to the rainbow, a car driving near me opened its window and the passenger inside called out, "Look at the rainbow above you!" to make sure I didn't miss this magnificent sight.

When I saw people taking pictures, it deepened my nagging thought throughout this entire walk, which was to run back to my apartment and grab my camera so I could catch this moment forever.

But I just wanted to relax and enjoy this walk with this rainbow (and its fainter neighbors). I studied the "ends" of the rainbow, which made me think about pots of gold, leprechauns, and lucky charms. I then looked at the sides of the rainbow where I saw the rain-mist varying the intensity of the colors in a steady, fluid rhythm. Then my eyes meandered closer to the center of the bow where the light seemed the most intense - my thoughts became about Noah and God's promise to him after the flood had subsided. I imagined the rainbow that God gave to Noah was very vibrant and intense like the one before me, as if to demonstrate how steadfast and passionate his promise and love to Noah was. As I walked onto Broadway and observed how the view of the rainbow changed as it landed in the trees of the high hills of North Oakland, I thought of unicorns basking in the rainbow's light in mystical forests.

I decided that as much as I was worried about regretting it later, I simply did not want to go back to get my camera. I then seemed to console myself by asking, "Is life about getting a picture of something, or about living in the moment?"

Tonight, I'm glad I chose the latter.

feeling innocent

Hi.
I missed you. Have you missed me?

Well, lots have been on my mind, and new developments have occurred.

What's been on my mind a lot recently is a certain person with whom I've been quite enamored and have embarked on a "something" with. It's fun and delightful to explore the underbelly of the surfaces of the person that I have known for some time but am getting to know on a deeper level.

Up until recently, I wondered if I could ever be in an angst-free relationship that didn't involve unrequited love, guilt, or whatever dark and heavy element you can name. Now, I am struck by how simple, peaceful, good, and just plain pleasurable this experience has been.

I became more aware of this new outlook of mine when my neighbor asked me the other day if I would play my music for her wedding. When I thought about it, I actually felt like I wanted to write a new song about love for her wedding, and that after so many years of writing sad songs, I was actually inspired to write an uplifting song for once.

I apologize for the gushiness. But I have to confess that I am happy that I can even be that way now. It's as if I've reached a new stage of my life where I don't have to be too cool to think about "those" types of things.

Anyways, that's what's going on with me.

I thought I'd transition to a film review that I've been wanting to share for a while now, but was waiting for the right time. Some of you know that I watched and heard Ang Lee speak at a screening of "Lust, Caution" at this year's SF Asian American International Film Festival and that I really liked it. I thought about this movie again because I went to a theater performance this weekend and good performances always get me thinking about other good performances/art. Also, I think this movie portrays an intriguing, unconventional, complicated love story -- one that is a huge contrast from what I just described what was going in my life right now, but is still a story of human connection and one that I think is interesting to revisit.








(*mild spoilers*)


First of all, I don't think this movie should have gotten the less than stellar reviews that it received. I thought it was a masterpiece. (My dad, who calls every so-called Oscar-worthy movie "interesting," actually came up with a different adjective for this film by calling it "powerful" - which says a lot.)

I simply couldn't get over this story of a lonely young woman's search for meaning and finding it in patriotism for her country and ideals, but in doing so, sacrificing herself. Here, the protagonist Wong Chia Chi (played by the amazing Tang Wei) is abandoned by her family in war-time China and decides to become a spy for the Chinese Nationalist resistance, propelled by the actions of her college comrades, who are her only family. In doing so, she becomes the mistress of Mr. Yee (played by Tony Leung), an interrogator of spies. How this relationship transforms is what is gripping about this movie. The movie is rich in so many other ways, too, like how Ang Lee masterfully portrays the loss of a girl's innocence, not so much sexual innocence, but the innocence of having a loving family and living in a world without war.


Also, the film compelled me to ponder the relational power of sex. Unlike most movies, the sexual progression of the main characters here helped tell the story, as opposed to sex being a culmination of a relationship or an obligatory element of a movie. (You may argue that Lee's better known movie, "Brokeback Mountain" used sex similarly as a storytelling tool. I would disagree -- in that movie, the sex was the story. Not so in "Lust, Caution.") One striking comment of Ang Lee, among others, was his discussion of how the protagonist, Wong Chia Chi, tried to avoid the gaze of the enemy, Mr. Yee, when having sex, while he persistently tried to look at her and look at her reactions. Being lied to every day in his official capacity as a government interrogator of spies, Mr. Yee, sought to see Wong Chai Chi's reactions, seeing that as probably being the one thing in his life that could not lie to him. "The body does not lie," said Ang Lee, yet acknowledging that "One of the most profound questions in life is 'Can I make her come?'" and if she does, is it for real?

Normally such talk would make me shift uncomfortably in my seat, but maybe because it was Ang Lee speaking and because he has that filmmaker mastery of presenting an idea to you without any judgment (and probably because I idolize him), I could appreciate Lee's journey of exploring these questions, which he struggled with ("weeped" during shooting of the love scenes, according to him) and transcribed into a film that others could partake in the depth of his journey.

Lastly, the score from this film is haunting and beautiful, and I found myself playing it all the time in my head or on the keys after hearing it for the first time...

My "review" doesn't really do the film justice. In any case, if you want to see a beautiful movie from start to finish that will move you, I recommend this one.

should i join

A couple of weeks ago, I was about to go for a run but saw that I missed Mike's call and decided to listen to his message as I had a before-running snack of tortilla chips and avocado (yeah, probably not the best idea).

I munched and listened to the message.

Afterwards:
O-kaaay. "Hm."

I played it again and started moving to it as I munched some more.

dausch chirp song from Carolyn Chen on Vimeo.

Third time, I was doing hip hop moves in my kitchen.
"Yeah, YEAH, this is TIGHT!"


I've usually hesitated from joining Twitter for fear that I'd spend too much time trying to think of cool "tweets" to share with my "followers."
However, as of late, I've already been going on Facebook religiously (mainly to check on who accepted the invitation to my May 9 gig) and as a side effect, I've updated my Facebook status message pretty consistently. (I haven't dropped the habit, although the gig's over...)
Also, it IS hard to blog regularly. So with Twitter, I could "talk" to you more often, and then you wouldn't have to wait weeks, but only hours, even minutes, for deep thoughts, by Carolyn Chen. (And you'd probably get less deep thoughts, too.)

But is that what you want?
Is that what I want?

Even if I joined, I would still not "tweet" during work hours although a big portion of my day is spent at work. I've decided to never go on social networking sites during work hours, which is probably a good thing -- work can be kind of annoying, and there's no need to bring you into that world ("If I see another attorneys' fees request, I'm going to gag," but there could also be the potential for cool tweets like "OMG- just saw Erwin Chemerinsky in the Court of Appeals!").

Regardless, I could still tweet during off-hours -- which is still a lot of time in a day for Carolyn exposure.

Could we all handle that?

I don't know if I can even handle writing about it on this blog post, ughhh...

But I am open.
And as Mike says, it may just be a matter of time.

Susan B., if you're reading this, I miss you. When are you going to grace us with your presence on The Permanent New Girl?

*photo credits:
Birds: eh, I don't remember...from Google images
New York Times Square: Mike Dausch's photography
Macy's underwear model: Susan Buchanan's flickr stream for her blog post.

working hard

I'm a little crazed these days, but it's all good.

Been thinking about good music.
Here are some inspirations:

• Susie Suh (I wish I could make a music video featuring HER, for her song, "Light on My Shoulder"; I'm going to try to catch an LA show of hers in June).

• Imogen Heap (I'm always afraid of her at first, but am in so much awe.)

• Vienna Teng (I used to get insulted when people compared me to her because I assumed it was because we were both Asian and played the piano. Now I've gotten over it and watching her again I'm reminded how flawless and angelic her voice is - and how amazing she is on the piano. I could only dream of writing/performing like her...)