u n d e r n o t e s

born standing up

2010-12-04T01:21:00.000-08:00

I have heard it said that a complicated childhood can lead to a life in the arts.
- Steve Martin, Born Standing Up

I am reading Steve Martin's memoir and am enjoying it very much. Strangely, yet comfortingly, I have felt a kinship with Martin, reading about his strained relationship with his father and reflecting on my own complicated relationship with my family. Now, when I wonder why I feel like I need to "express" myself, this sentence just seems to sum it up. It's also a confirmation of what I have always dreaded, yet have resigned to believing is responsible for much of my creativity. "A-ha."

It's interesting to see that Martin was just a regular, not particularly talented guy who, like many of us, was trying to find his way, his own happiness, as he delved into the things that interested him as a boy --magic, then later comedy; and developing into the famously funny Steve Martin we know today. It seemed so easy for him to step into his destiny, while my path has seemed so arduous -- but maybe 30 years from now, if I were to look at where I am today, my path would appear just as crystal clear as Martin's journey.

In the book, Martin refers to many of his favorite entertainers, including Richard Pryor. As a kid, I had heard my dad speaking of liking Richard Pryor. I always remembered Richard Pryor as the goofy scared guy carried by Superman. It was not until I got much older that I learned that that innocent looking man was a cocaine addict, used profanity in his stand-up routines, openly talked about race and other taboo topics in America, and was a troubled soul who frankly used the transgressions against him and by him, as comic material. I also heard that he was a comic genius.

Realizing that I have never been graced with Pryor's genius, I recently checked out some of his acts on YouTube. Wow. Rarely have I seen a performer with the absolute surrender that Pryor displays. And he's just friggin' good. It's like an experience. And I'm also intrigued by his evolution starting with his cleaner, squeakier days, like on the Ed Sullivan show. Enjoy them for yourself.

being an artist

2010-11-28T13:54:00.000-08:00

photos by timothy mak photography

Recently, I realized that my escapist fantasies of being a full-time artist were somewhat illusionary. While my lawyer job as been giving me a lot of grief lately, I was experiencing much grief at my last music gig, as my friends chattered and laughed amongst themselves and appeared to be disinterested in my music that I had worked so hard to prepare. Ouch.

As I am accepting what happened, I am realizing that this is the life of an artist, dealing with rejection, even from those you love, all the time. Nine out of ten times, no one cares that you struggle within yourself to get on stage; no one cares that you are baring your soul as you sing the lyrics you wrote during a meaningful moment in your life; no one cares to give you a fighting chance to share your music; no one gives. And the sad part is, even if they do, I, like many artists, being so self-absorbed, may not see it.

So why would I choose to put myself in these situations, to choose this as my life? According to Livingston Taylor, musician and Berklee School of Music professor, I don't choose it -- I do it because nothing else fits.

Sometimes a lawyer or doctor will approach me and express their desire to be onstage. I'm bemused by the naivete. They don't understand that people who write, paint, dance, or
sing do so not because they want to (in spite of what they tell themselves) but because they must. Nothing else seems to fit.

You want to be a performer even though you know there are easier career paths to choose, like the steady work and health care benefits found in a big corporation. Instead, you're willing to go it alone in the cold, dimly lit world of the performing arts. You didn't choose to be here. Nobody does. You are here because you're driven.

- Livingston Taylor, Stage Performance

What Taylor says resonates with me, but I don't want to believe it. I want to believe that I have a choice and that I can have both the steady, well-respected conventional and professional job (of being a lawyer) and the vocation of my passion (of being a singer-songwriter, filmmaker, writer). However, I have to say that, as of late, it's been difficult to put 100 percent in everything I do, and I am exhausted and discouraged.

I just don't know.

Along the same topic, I would like to share about two artists/professionals I met this year that have inspired me to fight for both the professional and artistic aspirations of my dreams.

Chad Woodford (IP attorney, filmmaker, yoga instructor)
I met Chad at a Bar Association volunteer event at the SF Food Bank. As we were scooping and measuring rice to put into bags, I picked Chad's brain about pursuing his film career while working as an attorney. I found it noteworthy that he is a solo practitioner which allows him more flexibility with his schedule. Check out his documentary piece on the kids of Golden Gate Park.

Travelin' Kids from Chad Woodford on Vimeo.

I especially like his piece on the Marina, which I consider a guilty pleasure, as an East Bay-er who loves to hate on the Marina.

Marina Nights from Chad Woodford on Vimeo.

Kris Racer (Former consultant/business school student/aspiring gaming project manager)
I met Kris through my artist friends in Oakland, when he came to one of our songwriting circles and I found out that he was in SF for the summer for an internship at Zynga and went to b-school in Chicago. Impressed and intrigued with his current business aspirations but also his working singer-songwriter status, I picked Kris' brain about both the "business" of gigging, grad school, but also just career guidance, generally. Thanks, Kris!

sponsor me!

2010-09-06T11:38:00.001-07:00

I am going to swim a mile (or .5 more) for women with cancer. Here's my schpiel...before I change it 100 more times. You can donate and read the most current version here (click "Finding a swimmer" and type "Underwoman" for swimmer).

Hey! I am committed to raising $500 which provides emergency financial assistance for rent, utilities, and groceries for one Oakland woman with breast cancer. If 50 of you donate $10 each, I'm good to go!

I'd like to think of this as "sponsoring" one Oakland woman with cancer. In addition to or in lieu of making a financial contribution, I also invite you to pray for this one woman, for whatever she is going through, though we don't know who she is now.

I think we all know at least one special woman in our lives that has battled cancer -- for me, it's been my friend's mom, my co-worker, and a college student from church. I feel privileged to have heard their stories and to know them. I also found very sobering this column by Tammerlin Drummond (Oakland Tribune columnist) about recent state cuts to cancer detection programs for low-income women.

Take a read: http://www.mercurynews.com/columns/ci_15771074?nclick_check=1.

I swim on Saturday, October 2 at 12 noon. Holla!

at the end

2010-08-08T18:47:00.000-07:00

Today I have been contemplating the concept of the weekend. I haven't had a weekend off in the last three months or so. While most of them were filled with working in the office, there were some where I still had to be "on" for non-work-related weekend family trips and wedding festivities.

Last weekend was the first one I had "off" -- I went on a hike with my college buddies and made sure to have a lot of time to myself afterwards. But true rest still eluded me.

And then another week descends on me...
Each day and night is a negotiation of whether we will be getting more stuff done or more rest. You plan date-time with yourself this weekend. There are some tasks you'd like to get done: clean the bathroom, catch up on e-mails with friends, look at your expenses to better budget your finances.

We get to Friday evening, but it's still not your time -- it's time to go to a musical and catch up with an old friend till the wee hours of the morning.

We get to Saturday -- time to buy a gift for and go to a friend's bridal shower. After that, you say, you will have all the time for yourself.

The bridal shower runs into early evening. You're driving home and wonder whether you still have the energy to keep the date you had planned for yourself -- ramen noodles on College Ave. then a screening of the film "Winter's Bone" playing at the Shattuck.

You are determined to keep the date with yourself. And you go.

Saturday's over -- drat, didn't get to the weekend tasks. At least the temptation to do work at this hour is completely out of the question.

Sunday comes. You wake up earlier than usual. Unlike most Sundays, you had prepared to have a little downtime before you go to the church worship service; no attempts to do any of your tasks before going to church, like you usually do.

You eat a hearty breakfast of peanut butter and jelly toast with the intention of going to the local pool to get some laps in after church. You will exercise outside, dang it, you tell yourself. It's summer.

You go to church. You do not socialize with your friends afterwards. This is your time, you remind yourself. You get home. You feel like reading a magazine before you head to the pool. You do it. Then you look at the time and make sure you have at least 1 hour to do your laps.

You change into your bathing suit before heading out. It's cold, you think to yourself. And I think I might be on the verge of getting sick. Is it a good idea to go to the pool?

But you push yourself to go. You drive to the pool, pay the $5, march into the women's locker room, take your clothes off with your bathing suit on already, don your swim cap, and you force yourself to go into the cold shower to rinse off. You step out into the pool area. The sun is shining and the breeze isn't too bad. Some quick stretches, some pacing between the lane you have decided to swim in, and the cabinet with all the kickboards and buoys, and you insert yourself into the warm salty water. And you stroke.

20 minutes in, as you turn your head back and forth to breathe, and you see the blue sky and sun-drizzled scenery, you are smiling inside. You cool down kicking with the kickboard and you feel like you've made the best decision of your life coming here.

You're back home and you toast some bread with cheese, cut open an avocado, and rip off a tin of sardines. You cut an orange into slices. You realize that you eat out almost everyday and relish this opportunity to make your own simple lunch with fresh fruits and not have to transact to have this meal. You make a pact with yourself to swim and make a fresh meal afterwards every Sunday.

You wash the dishes and you have an inner dialogue with yourself, or rather, between your husband self and your wife self.

Wife: Dear, are we still going to go to your co-worker's party this afternoon? It's been such a great relaxing day. Let's stay home.

Husband: I haven't decided yet. There were some things I still wanted to do before going.

Wife: You still haven't cleaned the bathroom sink. It's disgusting.

Husband: I told you I'd get to it this week.

Wife: You're not going to work, are you?

Husband: No (hesitantly). (then more confidently) No. Just wanted to organize around the house a bit. I think we should buy a new vacuum cleaner.

Wife: And we have to plan our vacation. We are going to have a vacation.

Husband: Don't worry. I'm not going to let them persuade me to stay.

Wife: We have to get out of here, lest you feel tempted to go to the office.

Husband: I know, dear.

Wife: (softly) I hardly see you. This is the first time in a long while that we've actually spent time with each other.

Husband: I know, dear.

Wife: It's like I'm living with a robot who doesn't really care for me.

Husband: I do, darling.

Wife: You know, you don't have to do this.

Husband: I know. And it's just temporary. And it's good for us - it provides us stability and the resources to do things we enjoy, go on vacation, eat well...

Wife: But you're not happy right now. I can see it.

Husband: It'll be over soon. It will be.

something missing

2010-03-06T00:13:00.000-08:00

My way of taking a break lately has been catching up with current pop culture, i.e., Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, Taylor, Twilight... I finally decided to watch some of Beyoncé's more recent videos. I actually liked some of her songs and was curious about what the videos were like.

My song rankings:
(1) Halo
(2) Sweet Dreams
(3) Diva
(4) Ego
(5) Single Ladies (Grammy's Song of the Year...really?! I feel like I'm taking crazy pills - isn't she just chanting with a whistle sound in the background and the catchy chorus repeating?)

My video rankings:
(1) Sweet Dreams (love her attitude and dance moves - I would ignore the beginning)
(2) Halo (sweet)
(3) Single Ladies (yeah, yeah, yeah)
(4) Ego (kind of boring, but at least, she sticks with one line of thought that seems to fit the theme)
(5) Diva (too many costume changes - lack of focus).

After a while, I was, of course, mesmerized by her beauty. But I felt a little sick, like having too much candy, and too much perfection. She's too beautiful, too talented, too much...
Naturally, with her overly sexy presentation, I also felt like a peep show patron.

Being the old fogie I'm becoming, I longed for the old days of R&B when, yes, the divas were always self-indulgent and looked at the camera too much, yet they seemed less so compared to the likes of Beyoncé and Lady Gaga today. And I know I'm sort of comparing apples and oranges (00's pop v. 90's hip hop)...but it was interesting nonetheless to think about what I missed about the so-called divas from my youth.

Back then, they were trying, but they weren't perfect. And it was alright. They were real people with real emotions and flaws, real bodies, with a more fun and relatable mix of class and chutzpah. And you wanted to be on their side, not worship them. And yeah, sometimes they were cheesy and a little horny (i.e., I was afraid to admit to watching their videos as a middle-schooler), but you loved them anyways.

Below are some of my favorites. What I love about these songs and videos, is that they just tell a story. No massive budget for people to do 10 million costume or set changes. Just the storyteller (singer), her emotion, and some good dancing/hanging. Accordingly, I think the choreography and visual storytelling in these videos are much more compelling than what's popular today.

A Mary J. Blige favorite of mine. Admittedly, there are multiple costume changes in this one and could be a precursor to the pattern that is so pervasive today. But I love some of her raw expression here. Another favorite is this one - if you don't feel anything after watching it, you have no soul.

This Salt N Pepa/En Vogue video opened my 14-year old eyes when I first saw it. What a song. What a video. On another note, what ever happened to women rappers?

Saved the best for last -
Monica exemplifies the wonderful mix of down-to-earthness, cuteness, strength, sexiness, and class. She's also very beautiful and elegant but doesn't shove it down your throat. This song and choreography are the best!
(*dedicated to Lei Lei)

young love

2010-02-08T22:53:00.001-08:00

Meet "The Xx."

This is one of many bands being showcased at the South by Southwest (SXSW) film and music conference/festival in Austin this March, which I will be attending from very start to finish. (I'm totally stoked.) Thanks to SXSW, I have become acquainted with and fallen in love with this lovely band. I want to listen to them when I wake up and before I go to bed, and just about all the hours in between.

They are pure, refreshing, youthful, and their minimalist arrangements inspire me to write naked truth and beautiful music.

Did you ever have a period in your life that you felt exemplified you the best? I've always been quite fond of my 15-year old self - slightly awkward and still finding my way, yet very bright, disciplined, and unafraid to be who I wanted to to be. This band's music has awakened in me an inner celebration of the spirit of youth that gives a damn in a quiet, unjaded, and courageous way. They make me believe anything is possible.

Here is my current favorite of the album.

Your Hands

2010-01-30T23:24:00.000-08:00

This week was really hard. All around - personally, at work.

Things were going well...and they are still. But lately, I've felt much disappointment and longing in some of my friendships to the point where I can't hide it anymore.

I long for human connection, but am sometimes so hurt by it, whether it be from from the insensitivity of it, the withholding of it, or it not being the way that I had hoped, to the point where it takes all of me to still put myself out there and I just can't.

But I see how necessary it is for me to experience the ache of putting others before myself, to sacrifice, to let things go, and to do it all with a joyful heart. I see more clearly how oblivious I'd been to that same grace shown towards me, and I am thankful for this process, and especially God's faithfulness, as much as it hurts. Knowing this has helped me keep it together.

However, I am just as grateful, if not more, for last night, when, at a very dark moment, I received an e-mail from my sister checking in with me and telling me that many times when she heard this song, she thought of me, and wanted to share it with me.

And I was finally able to cry.

know that you'll be back for more

2010-01-01T23:45:00.000-08:00

This morning I woke up feeling my abs, thighs, and shoulders for the first time in a while. Although it hurt, it felt good, too. I was encouraged that my first workout session with my Gold's Gym personal trainer was paying off.

I signed up with Gold's just before the holidays to take advantage of the year-end promotions and to try to set up a healthy alternative to my running routine, which has increasingly aggravated my knee pain in the last few months.

This is my first time joining a gym, and I have been easily amused by Gold's motivational mottos hung around the space. As I change my pants in the locker room, I notice one that says, "If it hurts to tie your shoes, you know you're doing something right." Right above the handle of the door that exits from the gym, you're warned with, "Know that you'll be back for more tomorrow."

Although I snickered and wanted to brush it off as a gimmick, I sincerely asked myself yesterday, as I exited the door:

"Will I be coming back for more?"

Yesterday's PT session was hard, as well as embarrassing with my frequent grunting and grimacing (oftentimes, the PT would say, "Your face says everything - we're doing a good job here..."). But I have to admit that I found it very meditative to do bicep curls as I ever so slowly lowered those dumbbells on each rep, and found myself feeling at peace with the aching in my muscles that I was imposing on myself. And as much as I hated doing the other exercises, it was fun to do different activities and try to win the approval of my PT. It's amazing how much my people-pleasing nature accomplishes.

Yes, I think I will be coming back for more.

And the motto came back to me as I woke up this New Year's Day morning with the sore muscles, and the uncomfortable task of greeting my parents this New Year's Day with the news of the break-up, and facing yet another year at a job that I was not crazy about, another year of not having finished my music album, another year of not knowing what the hell I want to do with myself. However, I knew deep down that I was going to "come back for more". . . more challenges, more misfortunes, more opportunity, more risk-taking, more love, more frustration, more joy, more work, more of this thing I call "my life."

And it's all good.

a time of silence

2009-12-29T20:58:00.000-08:00

For the last few months, I've been fighting a battle in my mind. Yesterday, that battle ended, and the noise has stopped.

Although I am glad to have reached this place of silence, I am struggling with the acute sense of pain from the loss, emptiness, of the death of a relationship. Like remembering a lost loved one, in the quiet moments, you recall the funny exchanges you had with the person, how you felt with them, how handsome they were, and the defining moments when they were there for you. And though not much time has passed, you miss them sorely because of the knowledge that things will never be the way they used to.

But I believe everything will be okay.

And I realize now, more than ever, that what I really need during this period is to just be alone, here, in the quiet...

age-appropriate attire

2009-10-23T23:50:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-25T22:55:00.001-07:00

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

2009-08-06T22:49:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-11T21:18:00.000-07:00

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

2009-06-09T21:57:00.000-07:00

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

2009-05-19T20:16:00.000-07:00

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

2009-05-05T23:46:00.000-07:00

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...)

happy one-week-after-earth-day!

2009-04-28T23:47:00.000-07:00

Check out my friend Oliver's piece for FiLife on saving both the environment and your money. I am proud to say that I semi-contributed tips #1 and #5!

Speaking of green -- I just bought a new green shirt yesterday, which I hope to wear for my gig on May 9 (click on "event details"). Actually, just looking at that website, I hope I don't blend in too well...
Anyways, most of my favorite tops are green, and I have a good feeling about this one.

positive experience**

2009-04-27T11:06:00.000-07:00

Last Monday, Stanley and I saw Black Kids and Mates of State at The Independent in San Francisco.

I wasn't really familiar with Mates of State, but thought the wife-husband duo was really sharp and each partner so in tune with the other with the rhythm and delivery of their songs.

What was really a treat was watching Black Kids sing and dance live. The girls were awesome in their shout-singing and rocking out. And the lead singer, just as I had hoped, made me swoon from his interesting intonated speaking -- "What did you think of Judgement Day [the opening act]? They're from here, right? Suh-poooooorrt thehhhhmm*" -- and of course, from his weird dancing moves where he puts his hands up to his head and can't quite seem to hold his head up when he occasionally separates his arms from his armpits or sides. It's kind of Madonna-esque, like he's holding in something and needs to release it, but won't, and I find it kind of sexy. (Don't laugh!)

You can see what I mean from their official video, "Look At Me (When I Rock Wichoo)."

Here is another video to check out: "I'm Not Going to Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You" (the closing song for their act that night -- it was sooo good!).

And more pictures.

* = "Support them."
** = "positive experience" is a phrase coined by Michael Dausch circa February/March 2009 to describe an intensely pleasurable experience.

jeune maman et le bébé

2009-04-13T23:24:00.000-07:00

These pictures made me happy today.

Say hello to Kalea Joy. She looks a lot like Emily as a baby...and she's inherited the Chen lips!

Click here for my post on Kalea's cousin Elliott.

being made new

2009-04-12T16:12:00.000-07:00

Easter Sunday has always been tricky for me.

Here is a holiday where you are supposed to be so overwhelmed by joy by the resurrection of Jesus Christ that you want to shout and clap your hands in gospel-music fashion and proclaim to the world, "He has risen indeed, Alleluia!"

Everyone is dressed in their Sunday best. Although it's usually too cold for it, girls will wear the pretty but unflattering floral print skirt, exposing their pale legs without tights, and pretty sandals, only to be imposed on by an incongruously heavier jacket (like a denim jacket or hoodie) covering the pretty solid color top that goes with the skirt.

The church service is a little different than usual. The stage will now house multiple flower pots with daffodils or cali lillies. The sermon will become more self-aware that the message will apply to both the non-believing guests who were invited by family members or friends and the established believers. The service will also run longer since there will be an Easter baptism, in addition to communion.

This Easter,

I woke up feeling a little depressed and not cheerful at all. The last couple of days I had been upset by a relationship that no longer seemed sustaining. And in general, it has been increasingly harder to ignore the gnawing ache in my soul from feeling like I am not living out my purpose on this earth, even though I do not know and am too afraid to find out what that purpose is.

As I got dressed for church service, I initially put on a respectable pink shirt with my best jeans -- I don't have any pretty floral skirts -- but decided against it.

If I am to celebrate Jesus' resurrection, I want to be myself. Since when did we have to make celebrating Jesus' being with us, so formal? So, I changed into one of my "Holy Spirit" screened tees and my more comfortable rugged jeans instead of my best (tight) jeans.

I didn't bring any non-Christian guests to the service.

I came to the service

alone,

hungry

for Jesus' touch on my life
because I so desperately need it

from Him,

not from people's happy mood-clapping, pretty attire, a pretty stage, or a self-deprecatory sermon...

I want to be made new.

what california weekends are made of

2009-04-06T15:22:00.000-07:00

We are the Chen's....

or at least three of us are. Judy and Emily are married and have adopted their husbands' names and relinquished their Chen status. You would think that my being the last of the Chen daughters would make my parents regard my carrying the Chen name in a more elevated light, like as if I were the the last of a dying rare species... No, not really.

Before that picture was taken, we celebrated Daddy's and Judy's birthdays.

Pink guava cake.

A Cantonese cuisine dinner in Milpitas.

Before dinner, my parents and Judy and Fred and CalebMicahAbbyElliott and myself hung out at the lovely Hakone Garden in Saratoga where there also happened to be a wedding that day.

Before that, I had a little adventure at the California Native Plant Sale at Hidden Villa in Los Altos. (Absolutely gorgeous.) I was supposed to meet Judy and the gang there, but they didn't make it, so I was there on my own. Tried to call Judy to see what plants she wanted for her yard - that was the purpose of the excursion in the first place, but I didn't have any phone reception...doh. So I did my best, asking the nice guides what they recommended for a partially shaded backyard that was flat and apparently, "abusive" to California native plants (native plants don't need water during the summer; thus, they're better suited for sloped landscapes where any extra water can run downhill), according to one volunteer. I went with a toyone shrub, a.k.a. "hollywood," and an achillea perennial. I was told that both plants were tough enough to withstand any terrain. Hope it all turns out okay.

Continuing on my "dating myself" theme, I really had a good time on this little adventure. Admired some chickens on the farm, took in the hills, and enjoyed listening to jazz music in my Honda Fit as the road gently curved, framed by the trees, and accompanied by a bicyclist. There's something about listening to jazz music in beautiful scenery that makes me feel so happy and...privileged.

Scenario in my head before arriving to the nursery -

Girlfriend Carolyn: Judy just left a message saying she and the rest of them can't make it to the nursery...should we still go?

Boyfriend Carolyn: Sure. Do you want to go?

Girlfriend Carolyn: Yes...but what about all this driving? Would you rather just go straight to Hakone Gardens and save the gas..?

Boyfriend Carolyn: It's fine. Let's go to the nursery first, you wanted to see what it was like -- it'll be fun.

Girlfriend Carolyn: Okay. (thinking to herself, 'oh, how sweet!')

On a final note --

I've been feeling "tragically" blessed (as my brother-in-law Fred put it) the last few weekends. The weekend before this last one, I went to Napa for the first time since moving to the Bay Area, with my friends Jenny, Judy, and Natalie. It was wonderful.

(more photos here and here).

IHTFP.
("I Have Truly Found Paradise." My fellow Beavers will understand; the Bay Area, the South Bay especially, is an extension of the 'Tute anyways).

cringing and embracing it

2009-03-25T23:58:00.000-07:00

Today at work, I opened up my Windows Media player and found that all my saved music on my C drive was gone and then remembered that I got a new CPU installed for my workstation. Desperate for some music to break up the deadening silence in my office, I searched through my Gmail accounts for e-mails with mp3's.

In doing so, I stumbled upon some old e-mails between myself and my boyfriend at the time. At first, I purposely searched for e-mails from my ex, knowing that he had sent me a couple of songs, but what was unexpected was getting glimpses of affectionate exchanges between him and myself. While scrolling through the e-mails, I saw the phrase, "hey cutie," and started getting goosebumps and wanted to barf. Also, I assumed that it was him calling me that, but, uh, no...it was actually me calling him that. Really? Oh man...*blush*

Here's another e-mail that made me blush at first from embarrassment, but kind of gave me a smile, just remembering the unabashed cheesiness and abandonment with which my ex wrote and interacted with people.

---
new music 1: hot thang

here's one song, from Talib Kweli--a brilliant lyracist. arjun thought the words were, "you gotta suck my life," but eugene corrected him, pointing out that the refrain is, "you got sumthin' i like."

carolyn, you got something i like,
[his name]

--
Another "fun" thing about remembering ex-es is remembering their music tastes. Most of the other guys I had dated were more indie rock types. This last one was anti-hipster, -indie music, which I always respected but also found amusing. One ex did ruin some songs for me, but I'm happy to say that this one didn't ruin this song for me.

Not to sound cliched, but I just find it funny how in the early stages of a relationship, you and the person you're dating do these ridiculous, incriminating things that you normally wouldn't do like write mini-odes to each other; start calling each other pet names that you'd never thought you'd hear yourself using; and start making premature plans for the future... And then *poof,* you find out you're not compatible, or one person doesn't think it's going to work anymore, and they're totally out of your life.

I've been thinking about some of my past relationships lately and have noticed somewhat of a pattern. In all but one relationship, I was broken up with. I'm not sharing this to win pity points from you all. To me, it's always been a testament to the fickleness of mutual attraction. The boy goes after the girl really hard, he gets her, then he dumps her. The End. I always believed that once the then-boyfriend got to know me, it depressed him how much work it required to deal with my neuroses and he wanted to escape while he could. In some other cases, I think the person realized that I wasn't that into him but was open to trying things out anyway, and then he decided to end it.

Now, I'm on the opposite end of the spectrum. I'm done with "just going with the flow" and will painstakingly dissect and try to understand what's going on with the guy and myself before I jump into anything and start doing stupid romantic baby-talk with him. Despite my parents' and co-workers' consistent questioning (in the case of my parents, begging), I'm not looking forward to entering a relationship anytime soon, although I certainly want to be in a happy relationship one day.

Maybe I believe that at the end of the day, you're always going to be disappointed with the other person. While I will make the most of it and will stick it through, I will be at the mercy of the other party who may end it for whatever reason. I guess I'm not ready to go through such beatings again and I like dating myself more than anyone else.

I've been talking to a number of guy friends lately who've confided in me that they felt bad about breaking up with their ex-girlfriends and just hoped that she was okay now. I've wanted to tell them that I've been in the same position as their ex-girlfriends and can confidently say that it probably hurt her a lot when she was broken up with; but man, after how many years now, I'm sure she's fine. I don't know how, but God has gifted me and many women a great ability to move on and find happiness and joy elsewhere. Yes, once in a while I'll run into an e-mail or song that reminds of me an ex, but every time, after some thought, I always think to myself, "Thank God he broke up with me; I probably wouldn't have...and I wouldn't be as happy as I am now."

I do believe that things work out for the best.

being dausch

2009-03-20T00:10:00.000-07:00

My friend Mike is a funny guy. I can't stop watching this. (His friend Tim is also hilarious.)

For a while, I've been wanting to write about Mike and his influence on me, especially blogging-wise, friend-wise, and music-wise; but didn't know how to do him justice. Anyways, the gist of the story is that I basically started blogging because of Mike's blog, Shaking Words, which you should check out if you haven't already.

You could say that besides being a funny guy, Mike is a critical thinker, jock, Apophatic Catholic, foodie, loyal friend, faithful supporter, lover of China, lover of Richard Rohr, a talented songwriter/musician (he's got an album out there, accessible on iTunes called "Who?") and my first blogging coach and cheerleader...but that's just a sampling of the many flavors of Mike Dausch.

Meet Mike, everyone...

i am what i am

2009-03-09T20:22:00.000-07:00

A while back, I shared with you all that I was going to use video to examine myself. Apparently, some other people like my idea -- check out this post of a friend of a friend -- The Permanent New Girl. Her blog provides a raw look at what it's like to be a smart, single, funny 20-something woman in NYC and the joys, trials, and tribulations of being too hot for your own good.

I, on the other hand, am a different kind of woman.

The last time I posted up a video, I was reluctant to share with you all what I learned about myself. Well, I'll share a secret with you all -- after watching that boring video of myself staring intently at the computer screen, one thing I "discovered" about myself is that I'm not as bad-looking as I thought I was. (It's okay if you've come to a different conclusion.) After viewing that video clip the night I took it, I felt a little giddy, believing that I was actually a "good-looking" girl.

So, imagine my deep disappointment, even horror, when I viewed the following video (7 minutes long).

True, it was an extremely busy week, and I was coming home late every night, and the only thing on my mind was eating good food and getting my fill of little pleasures like Fortune magazine, so I could go to bed happy only to wake up early the next day to continue the cycle.

Here are some things that I learned about myself after watching this video clip:
(1) I look like a sad and pathetic old woman.
(2) I eat in the same terrible posture my dad does when he eats. I always felt sad for him, and now I look just as sad.
(3) Why do I eat and read at the same time? I should not multi-task so much and should sit upright!
(4) My hair looks awful.
(5) Why am I eating with a plastic fork? I never eat with a plastic fork. I'm holding it weird.

As a result of this video, I actually made a conscious decision to be more present in everything I did. I decided that when I ate, I would eat only and savor the flavors and the views around me. When I read a magazine, I would do that only. One night, I came home from work, changed into my comfy home-clothes, and just read a magazine while reclining on my couch. It was the most amazing, relaxing sensation I had felt in a long time. I decided to carry this further by cleaning out extraneous distractions in my life, in general.

Another thing that changed since then is that I decided to start trying to look more attractive, which really meant making my face look better through make-up. Nevermind the fact that this video was recorded after I had taken a shower and that I would have no need to look attractive with make-up. I was going to go on a quest to figure out how to bring out my eyes more, look more youthful with color in my pale dull skin, and not look so sad, if that's possible.

So I made a couple trips to Target and Sephora to buy concealers to cover my dark circles, some new eyeshadow and brushes. I went online to order an ionic hair dryer to get that hair salon shine and body that my limp hair needed. (And it was about time that I got a hair dryer at all!) And, of course, I went back to watching numerous YouTube tutorials on applying makeup.

After one week of experimenting with my new makeup products and techniques, I kind of missed my usual washed-out-looking but natural self. Okay, it was my new foundation that did it - it was too yellow and I felt like I had a fake tan or something.

Also, I broke my no-eating-and-reading rule. It's always been one of my favorite things to do, having grown up reading the Los Angeles Times as I ate breakfast, and I just can't give that up.

So things are kind of back to the way they were - however, I'm a couple hundred dollars poorer. Really, though, I am thankful that I decided to change things up. Now when I eat and read, I don't read the whole time I'm eating and just give myself more room to breathe, lift my head like a proper human being professional, and enjoy the food more. Now when I get ready for work, I actually add a bit of eyeliner and concealer, but skip the funky foundation and primer and multiple shades of eyeshadow that take me a half-an-hour to apply. And then there is never too much simplifying in my life -- the less activities and tasks I expect myself to do, the better it is for me right now.

When I revisited this video to write this post, I actually felt less repulsed than I did the first time. I enjoyed watching this video much in the way I enjoy watching an animal eat its food, completely oblivious to the human viewer's judgment of its strange mannerisms. For me, watching an animal eat somehow makes it seem somewhat vulnerable -- you feel slightly sorry for it but also intrigued (maybe because you feel like a lion predator lurking over its unaware prey...who knows.) Also, the weird thing about watching animals is that you are pretty sure that nothing exciting is going to happen, but you still watch to wait for those small surprises -- perhaps some overexuberant chewing, weird postures, pauses...

Anyways, I think I'm a likable animal.

can't wait to see this film

2009-02-19T20:41:00.000-08:00

Medicine for Melancholy.
Coming to San Francisco, 3/6.

totally awesome

2009-02-17T23:08:00.000-08:00

This President's Day weekend, I hung out with some friends from my ol' Boston days: Jenny, Arny, Kenny, Judy, and Melissa. We spent the day dodging the rain and hiking in Big Sur. After a long day, we headed back to Kenny's spacious townhouse and cooked dinner and vegged out on the floor after dinner.

Me: Man, I feel so dead right now. I want to take a shower but can't get up. I'm just going to fall asleep here.

Arny: Well, before you do, there's something I want to show you guys.

(The girls look at each other nervously.)

Me: Whaaaat--?

Arny: Kenny and I have something for you guys. Just wait right here while Kenny and I take care of stuff upstairs.

(Arny goes up the stairs).

Judy: Oh my gosh...

Jenny: Are they going to sing?

Me: Or do a dance?

(Melissa mutters warily.)

(I start doing that weird hyper giggling/squealing that you do when you're about to enter a haunted house, but you're excited, too.)

Finally, Arny peeped his head out and said they were ready....

The girls: OH my gosh...

Here is what happened when we got to Kenny's room.

It's Valentines Day
and who really gives a crap (gives a crap)
'bout a fake holiday
that just makes you feel like... crap

We know that thirty's round the bend (ooooh-ooooh)
Our twenties are almost at an end (ooooh-ooooh)
But you still got time to find the man you're looking for (awwwww!)

You don't need a heart-shaped box
Or a card that says "Hallmark" on the back
to know that each of you really rocks (really ro-o-o-o-o-o-o-ocks)
Well, V-day is just really whack

But yooooooou are totally awesome (TOTALLY AWESOME!!)
There are dudes who are just that into--
Yooooooou are totally awesome (SO FRICKIN' AWESOME!!)

Happy Vaaaaalentines Day!

(You're really hot!)

(c) Arnold Kim, 2009

Yeah, I still get emotional when I watch this. It was such a wonderful gift from these two great friends of mine, and I can't help but share this song with everyone. Valentine's Day up until that day was an afterthought -- I, like most of our group, actually liked not having the pressure of celebrating v-day with a significant other and having to get gifts and such. And I have been "out" of a relationship long enough to not miss it. Ironically, Arny and Kenny took it upon themselves to plan a v-day gift for us girls. Not only did they write and sing a song for us, but Kenny baked heart-shaped gingerbread cookies while Arny bought some fancy chocolate truffles from Berkeley's Gourmet Ghetto. Here we are with our gift bags.

Anyways, in the spirit of this song, just wanted to tell you all that you are totally awesome, every day -- and who needs a friggin' holiday to validate you only once a year? Thank you, Arny and Kenny for the reminder.

sad deaths in berkeley

2009-02-08T11:39:00.000-08:00

Yay! It's Sunday morning, and I am free as a bird and am craving some good yoga to close off my stressful last few weeks and to start off my week with. I go online to check the Sunday schedule at my favorite yoga studio, hyp, only to find that it closed down around the holidays in December, due to the economic downturn. Aw man.

So, I look up the schedule for another yoga studio in Berkeley and find one that I've passed by before, that has a class at the time I was hoping for. I drive over there, and it's a large room that's packed with people. Uh, no thanks - don't feel like paying $16 to get stressed out as I'm trying to position myself in various poses, crammed against other people, and neglected by the instructor.

So, I walk out and notice Elephant Pharmacy across the street. "Oh, this is the place where my friend has suggested we go to buy natural and environmentally-friendly make-up!" We never had a chance to go together and I never made the trip to go out before on my own, but since it was right there, I decided to walk on over. I get to the door. It looks closed, but the hours say 9am-8pm... And then I see the flyers.

"Elephant Pharmacy filed for Chapter 7 bankruptcy on February 3, 2009." That was just five days ago!

"It has been a special 6 years..."

Oh, this is just too sad.

spend five minutes with me

2009-02-07T01:01:00.000-08:00

What is this video about? It's about a lot of things, many of which I can't figure out, and am using this video as a tool to learn something about myself...and to just have fun with video. How I've missed doing this stuff!

The first bud of inspiration came from my bible study ("freeform") group on Psalms when the facilitator asked us "What do you do or how do you think God speaks to you?" A young woman in my group responded, "I know it sounds weird, but I look in the mirror." She then went on to explain that she could feel beautiful one moment, and disgusting in another, but somehow looking at the mirror grounded her and reminded her of God's view of her.

I liked her response. And it led me to want to observe myself. I hadn't been feeling too good about myself, and a thought occurred to me - what would I look like if I looked at myself from an external lens and not the internal, self-critical lens? Perhaps viewing myself through video could enable me to view myself the way others do...the mirror was still too subjective for me, but a video of myself seemed more detached and objective.

So for a week, I chronicled myself for at least five minutes every day (it usually turned out being more because I would forget about it) - without any agenda or script, but just being my mundane self. It was a bit enlightening, a little amusing, mostly boring, but oddly soothing. I won't share the details of what I've learned - that's for me only. But, I may share more clips later.

Also, I really missed being here in the last part of January. I was working some late nights and weekends in the office, and I felt a little lonely and disconnected from people. I really wanted to post this video earlier and feel connected in some way for a couple of minutes...but haven't had a chance to until now.

For those of you who need some comic relief from my oh-so-serious-"I'm being an artist" moment -- and i'm thoroughly enjoying it -- check this out.

*Oh, and I'm looking at condos in this clip.

confessions of a shopaholic?

2009-01-13T22:08:00.000-08:00

It's great to be back. It's taken a while to get adjusted back to a normal sleeping cycle and doing work again, but I just love being able to drive in my car, enjoy my pretty neighborhood and friendly neighbors, and be alone in my apartment. And last week I indulged myself in some shopping at Bay Street Mall. Originally I was only supposed to go to Pottery Barn and IKEA to buy some heavy drapes for my freezing apartment; but I allowed myself to look around the shoe and clothing stores, too, usually a no-no for me ("I'm above caring about what I look like"). With retail being in the sorry state it's in, I suddenly felt emboldened to look in every store, even ones that I didn't want to admit to being interested in. I wanted to take advantage of the bargains, of course, but this indulgence was really my twisted reward for being so thrifty over the years, and I acted as if I had a duty and special privilege to spend money since I could and many people couldn't anymore.

I went inside Steve Madden (been wanting a pair of high boots, but waiting out for "the one"), H&M, Victoria's Secret (bra-shopping is really as fun as jean-shopping, but that night I was going to make a good faith effort...oh, just kidding - I'm too tired tonight...), and even Abercrombie & Fitch, which I always vowed I would never support ever since that discrimination lawsuit initiated by its Asian and Latino employees...but that's settled now. And it was a ghost town in there. Wow, this whole retail downturn is for real.

So, what did I buy? I bought a warm long blue cardigan from A&F. It makes me feel like a Mr. Rogers hipster. I was so excited by its halved price that I got over my guilt of shopping there. At Sephora, I bought an eyebrow comb and clear eyebrow gel. Shopping has an interesting effect on me. It pushes me to get over my pride of hiding the fact that I obsess over minute details of how I look and that I don't have to torture myself anymore by ignoring the plethora of tantalizing solutions - like eyebrow gel. "I've been wanting to get this!" I acknowledge. "This is a worthwhile investment in making me feel good about myself...so I'm going to get it, dang it!" (And just so you know, overly exuberant and uncooperative eyebrows do really run in my family, as you can see from this picture of my grandfather whom I recently saw in Taiwan. Here we are consuming ice cream after a huge meal, which we later fed to some fish because we couldn't finish it.)

Browsing at products with such slashed-down prices was also an exercise that confirmed what I already suspected. Trash is trash, no matter how little you're paying for it. I was happy that I did not succumb to buying any crap on this last shopping spree (yes, buying three make-up/clothes stuff is a shopping spree...because don't forget that I bought some curtains that night, too!).

*pat on the back*

But if I can be frank, this experience has taught me that on some occasions, it actually feels nice to be a normal oblivious consumer than the elitist snob who refuses to buy anything, that I've been. It really chokes me up thinking about the cool products I would have missed out on if I continued my ways all the time. Seriously.

happy new year!

2009-01-04T03:30:00.000-08:00

I've been traveling the world...actually just Hong Kong and Taiwan for the holidays and am still processing it all. In the meantime, here's a little global-themed cheer for the ladies.

(I couldn't decide which version of this Flight of the Conchords gem to post up but ended up picking this "Three's Company"-ish video. However, I think the live performance in Australia is slightly more fun for the ear. Which do you like better?)

just a little person

2008-12-21T13:10:00.000-08:00

I just saw the film, "Synecdoche, New York," written and debut directed by Charlie Kaufman ("Being John Malcovich," "Adaptation," "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind").

I really liked it.

After seeing it, it's been even harder to curb my developing soft spot for Charlie Kaufman over the years. (He's the bright and witty yet charismatically awkward classmate that I am really jealous of, but also have a crush on.) I have often identified myself with Kaufman as a thinker who uses art as a tool for understanding ourselves, re-telling or reframing our past and perception of the world with the elements of culture, personalities, film techniques, drama... except he does a lot better job than me and is kind of a genius.

In "Synecdoche," Kaufman masterfully talks to us about mortality, finding truth and significance in a massive fucked-up world, and working hard at your craft, in a tightly - yet light-handedly - woven collective of life-like characters anchored by the central main character, Caden, a New York suburb regional theater director. I was especially delighted by what I considered Kaufman's signature commentary on the protagonist's self-referencing journey through the dramatic theater process. In the past, I have been slightly annoyed by it, but here, I found it well-developed and enjoyable.

And I love the soundtrack of this film and can't stop playing "Little Person" composed by Jon Brion.

If you're feeling pensive or frail...or just in the mood for something Kaufman-esque, please give this movie a chance.

meet another Carolyn

2008-12-18T00:01:00.000-08:00

"He may not answer me when I want him to answer my prayers but...he's always on time..."
- Carolyn

mermaid

2008-12-14T21:19:00.000-08:00

i wish
i could live in your ocean
but
i fear i will drown

will you
come with me to the light
and water my life

will the sun shine too brightly?
will you learn to hate me?

i will remember
this place
where kindness broke my heart
how can they say
that you're not real
where here love truly lived

maybe there's
no place
for both of us

maybe you're
the home
that i've been waiting for...
but i can't have.

(c) 2008 Carolyn Chen

* This week, I was determined to record something even if I was sick and it was going to be ghetto. Other recordings can be found at www.myspace.com/notesfromunder.

bjork, here i come...

2008-12-09T19:45:00.000-08:00

I'm a little stressed out and grouchy these days from work, people, myself. Perhaps I'm a little disappointed, too, that I recently spent big bucks to go to Asia for vacation when I'd rather go to Iceland. With the way its economy is going, I can actually afford to go now after all those years of fantasizing about it. Maybe next year...? For now, I'll just imagine myself chilling in a hot spring, without a care in the world.

ten year reunion

2008-12-04T19:15:00.000-08:00

On my way home from my therapy session tonight, "Ready or Not" by the Fugees began to play on the radio, and I was transported back in time to ten years ago, when I was a 19-year old freshman at MIT. Mind you, the Fugees' "The Score" came out earlier in 1996 - but it wasn't until 1998 that I began to acquire mp3's by my new friends and was able to play the song over and over in my dorm room.

As I sat in my car parked in front of my apartment with just the radio on so I could enjoy the song from start to finish, it just hit me: I've been struggling with my worst bout of depression for ten years...
Ten years ago from today was just before "the" depression began. It all started with a theater audition with my best friend. She didn't get a part in the play, but I did. Since that point, she became more anxious, more angry about everything, and then more abusive towards me...
I never fully got over it.
As I have processed the relationship over the years, I realize now that what hurt the most was not so much what she did, but more what the people around me did - or did not do. Not all of my friends knew what was going on, but some did. No one told me that it was wrong and that I didn't have to take it, that things would be okay if I left her. Not even the counselor I saw at MIT. Not even my women's small group leader. It was only my sister who, after hearing what happened once my freshman year had ended, told me that what that friend did was wrong and I didn't deserve it and that I had to leave the relationship. Things didn't resolve so simply after that, but have mostly resolved now.

Hearing that song in the car reminded me of the person I was ten years ago: A happy-go-lucky girl with a dark streak but who felt excited by life and people. A girl who had no idea that in a matter of weeks, her life would be changed for the rest of her life for the next ten years. I still know that girl, but she's hit a lot of spikes along the way and is still working on getting those wounds healed - but what can you do? The show must go on...

What is this song about anyways? I love it anyhow.

thanksgiving: black friday

2008-12-01T21:11:00.001-08:00

Friday after Thanksgiving, my dad and I worked the lunch shift at Union Rescue Mission in Los Angeles (near Little Tokyo, Toy District). We served about about 800 people: 200 some men at 11 o'clock, 200 some women and children at 12 o'clock, and 440 men at 2 o'clock. As my dad described it, it was "intense," but he said he had a good time. (It was his first time doing a soup kitchen.) He scooped rice, and I switched between serving chicken tenders at one lunch, serving vegetables at another lunch, and distributing plates of food to the guests. After each lunch, we cleaned the tables. The menu: three chicken tenders, rice, peas and carrots, and salad.

I've volunteered at a number of homeless shelters, but it was my first time serving with Union Rescue Mission (URM). I decided on URM because I didn't have a lot of time to research Los Angeles shelters, so I picked the most well-known. I shouldn't have been surprised, then, that celebrities (or former celebrities) like coming to URM, too. As we're waiting for the guests to come, a volunteer named Cruz tells me that he helped out the day before on Thanksgiving, and "the blonde woman from MASH" distributed plates to the guests. On a previous occasion, the twin sisters of the show, "Sister, Sister" came. As he's telling me these stories, I hear a staff member yell out, "Yo, the guy from Korn is coming today..."

The first lunch flew by and I barely had time to look up to say "hello" to the guests as I painstakingly tried to quickly pick three good sized chicken tenders (and not broken off pieces) to put on the plate. After the second lunch, the other volunteer servers (mostly dressed in black) chatted me and my dad up and introduced themselves. We talked about whether it was each other's first times. It was their first time, my tenth or so time. I asked them about what made them decide to serve, and one guy with dreads and a beard named Reggie said, "I've been donating money here for some time, but decided to meet the people here and just get a group going..." I wasn't sure if they were a church group or not. I finally asked them, "Hey, I heard someone from Korn from is here...?" and Reggie said, "Yeah, that's me." Excitedly I said, "My friend is a huge fan, and I've heard so much about your band through him!" Then, all of a sudden, I felt embarrassed, starstruck, now that it was out there that I knew he was someone famous. I worried that I insulted him by telling him that I didn't know his music, then worried that maybe he didn't want to feel like a celebrity, and there I was, pointing it out.

Nonetheless, his friends and father-in-law were very friendly and urged me and my dad to take a tour of the facilities with them, led by one of URM's staff members, Rosie. I am so impressed with URM - it was established in 1891 and has done a lot of great work since then. The facility has separate quarters for men and women, dental and medical clinics, a gym made of old tires, weight room, chapel, and spaces for people to just come in from off the streets. Their various programs are also noteworthy. Also, every time they get a donation of $30,000 or more, they ring a big bell in their office and just thank God for his provision and graciousness of the donor. Finally, Rosie saved the best for last - the rooftop of the building where the CEO holds a barbeque for all the staff and guests every First Friday of the month. Here are some pics for you to chew on as the first Friday of this month approaches...

Happy Thanksgiving.

three sisters and a baby

2008-11-23T12:16:00.000-08:00

My sisters and I had a sleepover last weekend. Elliot (my sister Judy's #4) joined us.

My other sister Emily is expecting her first baby this coming winter. Here is Kalea's nursery.

Me and "Chunk."

yip yip yip yip yip yip

2008-11-22T10:58:00.000-08:00

My friend Stanley is a do-it-yourself master of creating the YipYip costume. He has shared his creation at Wondercon and with other DIY -ers.

Here's the Sesame Street original. Wait for the ring...

smoky eyes

2008-11-16T17:00:00.000-08:00

Every two weeks or so, my good girlfriend and I hang out. Our get-togethers usually start off with eating, talking about work, and planning to take a walk after dinner. As the night progresses, we're munching, farting, debating over Proposition 8, whining about pimples, discussing the nuances between "hotness" and "cuteness," and looking at websites on hair and make-up, convinced that if we just learned to do them right, our lives would be a little better. A favorite of our discussions is the "smoky eye" look. My friend is usually more up with these trends than I am. However, this is one area where I've gained an upper hand.

Once upon a time I was part of an indie rock band. It was a wonderful experience where I made some friends, learned about playing shows in the Bay Area, and most invaluable of all, I learned how to do smoky eye make-up. After one of our gigs, a well-meaning friend told me that I needed to look the part of "the girl" in the band - I needed to think about wearing knee-high boots, flashier clothes, and more makeup. Though I had always prided myself on my lack of interest in such matters, I rose to the challenge and decided to learn the "smoky eye" look that my good girlfriend had mentioned to me before. So where did I go? To YouTube, of course, a godsend for the makeup impaired. After about a night of research, I found a couple of good videos...and not so helpful videos that were nontheless...interesting.

Pay your respects to makeup guru, RiceBunny, both my and my girlfriend's #1 pick. I especially like the soothing music and text of her videos. I am also amazed by how she can maintain that calm smirk as she's just milli-millimeters away from poking her eye. (I usually blink in an agitated fashion and make strange contortions with my mouth.) And finally, here is my first (conservative) attempt at the smoky eye look for my former band's CD release show. There is hope...?

watch this film

2008-11-12T00:00:00.000-08:00

directed by Danny Boyle ("28 Days Later").
Here is the trailer.

Saw it a couple nights ago and...*wow*...it's definitely my top for this year so far.

i kissed dating goodbye

2008-11-11T22:12:00.000-08:00

A recent outing with a friend rekindled my memories of this book by Joshua Harris. I read it junior year of high school with my friend Carol while we were at a winter church retreat. This book was all the rage and the retreat speaker even had to speak on it. Although I thought it was a great book, I liked it mostly because it already conveniently aligned with my personal philosophy on dating (being the mature teenager I was back then). I decided not to date in high school and renewed this decision in college. Anyways, ten years and multiple relationships later, I still get warm fuzzies thinking about it much in the way that you think about an old friend. I still think it has some good principles that even apply to my life today. Here's Joshua Harris' description of his book.

proud for once

2008-11-04T22:46:00.000-08:00

My Taiwanese heritage is something I usually like to forget. I avoid meeting Taiwanese-Americans my age since I assume they will be perfect-looking, high-achieving professionals or semi-geniuses around whom I'll feel like a loser. I've also grown to fear first-generation Taiwanese-American mothers. I've put my angst to use by making a film illustrating the sad effects of my Taiwanese-American upbringing, writing a play inspired by my mom, and even putting together a workshop exploring Asian/Asian-Am female stereotypes to further air out my self-hating tendencies. Yes, the number of issues I've harbored is just a tad disgusting...

So imagine my slight reluctance when my cousin Jon suggested that we check out the Taiwanese Film Festival at the University of San Francisco. Thankfully, the desire to see my cousin and my love for movies prevailed and I saw "Summer's Tail." I was pleasantly surprised by this coming of age story taking place in a suburb in southern Taiwan. I was also smitten by the leading actress, Enno (Cheng), who is not only an adorable singer/songwriter (whose music is featured in the movie), but is also the screenwriter of the film (as well as daughter of the director, Cheng Wen-Tang). Though I was envious of her talent and success at such a young age, she impressed me. I also enjoyed the understated direction of Cheng Wen-Tang, which produced believable chemistry between the characters in what appeared to be everyday situations, but in the context of adolescence, were dramatic moments.

Seeing the movie was a much-needed reminder that I relate better to present-day Taiwanese culture than to the values of my Taiwanese parents' of an earlier time. (So I’m not going to hold it against Taiwan for producing crazy Taiwanese people in America anymore.) Also, as an aspiring filmmaker, it was encouraging to see some Taiwanese artists out there that I could be inspired by.

Here's the trailer. (Like most movie trailers, it's a bit misleading, but it'll do...) If you have 10 minutes to spare, here's one of my favorite clips from the film.