TMA

春光

"...whatever your lot was, that was your lot" —Emma Quon

Another day spent in Chinatown chatting with J about what it means to be Chinese Malaysian/Singaporean here in Vancouver. Then it caught my eye—that peach pink 囍 on eggshell paper—a little book on the back wall. 

yellow.

2015 年1月19日

Perhaps it didn't quite feel like the new year had started because there really is no such thing. A day in January is just as arbitrary as in February as in December. Save for a few important dates set aside to remember special moments, every day is a new day, each one leading to the next.

I spent this weekend up in the clouds at Camp Stillwood, overlooking Cultus Lake. It poured like it does back home, the beating rain drumming a rhythmic lullaby I know so well. Lichen thrive here, so much so they're falling off branches, dotting paths with alien flowers.

It was here that I was reminded what time it is, where I am and who I am.