There are so many things that I want to remember and ruminate on. There are so many moments that I felt moved and touched in ways big and small, so many that I want to process and share. So many and so much that I don’t know where to begin. Approaching is always the most difficult part. Often I contemplate the approach for so long that the actual event eventually loses significance, and the moment passes without being justified in any way. I don’t know why it seems so much easier for some people. But I guess in a way, all is fair. I’m incredibly good at some things that some others find difficult, like rationalizing, self-entertainment, and working long hours, given the right environment. So I have a hard time taking the first step, making the approach, that sort of things. But I try. And here’s me trying to re-make this small corner of my life where I chronicle certain some-things.
Luckily, I can just go through the photo library of my phone, for now, here, sitting lazily on the couch, so that I can avoid going into my studio, where I will inevitable start getting anxious about work.

The first dish I made after returning to New York earlier this year, after weeks of not cooking as a result of a priority re-assessment. Appropriately, it was quick and easy.

I missed this place a lot while I was away. One of my favorite places in New York.

Sat alone for a bit at the fountain at the Frick.

Was heartbroken to find this. Of all places on Fifth ave! I don’t care much for the culture of consumerism, but this was one place where I could be tempted to get persuaded to think beauty over politics. I went back a few weeks after, a couple of days after the beginning of the closing-out sale to find… not much of anything. My beloved soba tea was long gone. I don’t know where else I can find soba tea in New York. I won’t die without it, but it’ll certainly be missed.

Mike came over and made some delicious Indian dish for us. It tasted more Franco-fied Italian to me, but I enjoyed it thoroughly. I think it was aloo matar.

And then suddenly, my first 2 pregnant friends from my still-teen-times were no longer pregnant, and there were 2 more people I would get to know. They were both very small, and very cute.

My ‘baby’, my seeds arrived.

And these sunflower were given to me. They broke while in transit, and I fear that they were dead. But I planted them deeper, gave them some water and left them to drench in the sun, et voila, RESURRECTION.

Last week, I went to my favorite café to kill time and read before meeting some friends.

The place was empty ‘cept for the boys sitting next to me. Unfortunately, their conversation was extrememly boring, and impossible to block out. But I like what they left behind.
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There are so many things that I want to remember and ruminate on. There are so many moments that I felt moved and touched in ways big and small, so many that I want to process and share. So many and so much that I don’t know where to begin. Approaching is always the most difficult part. Often I contemplate the approach for so long that the actual event eventually loses significance, and the moment passes without being justified in any way. I don’t know why it seems so much easier for some people. But I guess in a way, all is fair. I’m incredibly good at some things that some others find difficult, like rationalizing, self-entertainment, and working long hours, given the right environment. So I have a hard time taking the first step, making the approach, that sort of things. But I try. And here’s me trying to re-make this small corner of my life where I chronicle certain some-things.
Luckily, I can just go through the photo library of my phone, for now, here, sitting lazily on the couch, so that I can avoid going into my studio, where I will inevitable start getting anxious about work.

The first dish I made after returning to New York earlier this year, after weeks of not cooking as a result of a priority re-assessment. Appropriately, it was quick and easy.

I missed this place a lot while I was away. One of my favorite places in New York.

Sat alone for a bit at the fountain at the Frick.

Was heartbroken to find this. Of all places on Fifth ave! I don’t care much for the culture of consumerism, but this was one place where I could be tempted to get persuaded to think beauty over politics. I went back a few weeks after, a couple of days after the beginning of the closing-out sale to find… not much of anything. My beloved soba tea was long gone. I don’t know where else I can find soba tea in New York. I won’t die without it, but it’ll certainly be missed.

Mike came over and made some delicious Indian dish for us. It tasted more Franco-fied Italian to me, but I enjoyed it thoroughly. I think it was aloo matar.

And then suddenly, my first 2 pregnant friends from my still-teen-times were no longer pregnant, and there were 2 more people I would get to know. They were both very small, and very cute.

My ‘baby’, my seeds arrived.

And these sunflower were given to me. They broke while in transit, and I fear that they were dead. But I planted them deeper, gave them some water and left them to drench in the sun, et voila, RESURRECTION.

Last week, I went to my favorite café to kill time and read before meeting some friends.

The place was empty ‘cept for the boys sitting next to me. Unfortunately, their conversation was extrememly boring, and impossible to block out. But I like what they left behind.
