Memoir: The time that Dad crashed

The time that Dad crashed he wasn’t drunk. He was driving the big white van on the freeway to see his gold-digger lover. Drinking wasn’t the cause of his evil, his main sins of choice were pride and lust. The pride resulted in vicious ego contests with Mom and the lust manifested in affairs, along…

Memoir: The Line Up

“Line up from oldest to youngest,” he said. I remember the orange carpet, we were standing in the living room. It was the 1970s, when we lived on the East Coast, in Maryland. We were a model Korean immigrant family of five. He waved the black gun in the air in front of our eyes….

Memoir: Diamond Dogs in Feather Boas

In 2003 I worked as a cigarette girl. It was the closest I felt to being both performer and prostitute. It was the strangest gig, I felt: desperate, exposed, vulnerable. We had to wear strange fluttering, feather, boa-like clips in our hair. We were called, the Peachy Puffs, what a porno name. I wore a…

Memoir: The Mystery of Language

In Korea I would blend in physically until I’d have to speak, my accent instantly exposes me as a foreigner. When I try to communicate in Korean, I speak like a toddler, in broken half-phrases, “Me go to sleep,” kind of cave-speak, but at 3yrs old I could understand and speak fluently in both languages,…

Journal : Creating as Therapeutic Connection, Part One: Making Zines

I’ve always loved art and literature and I was an early reader. My first books came from my mother’s coworker friend. She gave me Dr. Seuss’ “Mr. Brown Can Moo Can You?” and various elementary school text books when I was in preschool. It was the early 70s and simplistic stories about Dick, Jane and…

Thank You Bruce Lee

Copyright free images of Bruce Lee The Martial Artist, Bruce Lee internationally elevated Asian attractiveness during the 1960s. Before (and unfortunately after) him, both Asian men and women were depicted as unattractive and/or villianously alien but at least his magnetic presence propped open the door to eventual positive Asian portrayal in media. The standard depiction…

Memoir : Big White Van (part one)

Image from pexels.com I remember the fake polar bear fur that lined our polyester pink snow quilted jackets; we were born 6yrs apart but Mother often dressed us as identical twins. Our white commercial van had an unbolted, swerving back seat that jumped and jolted, we rode unseat-belted in wagon wheel fashion, with big leaps…

Memoir : Diamond in the Rough

Mom always said I was a diamond in the rough. “You’re an uncut diamond that was dropped, accidentally lost in the dirt. You’re beautiful, but no one can see that, because you hide your beauty.” What she meant to say specifically was, my sloppy boyish clothes and my unmade up face, were disguising my true…

Memoir : Twisted Sister: Beauty Pageant

At the Miss Koreatown beauty contest in the Baltimore Washington Area, Third Aunt applied so much stage makeup on Sister that she looked exactly like Dee Snider, the deranged looking front man of the one hit 80’s metal band, “Twisted Sister”. He infamously shout sang, “We’re not gonna take it anymore!” while costumed in striped…