les lettres d'odessa

wuthering heights

2012-05-29T22:42:00.000-07:00

"If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and, if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the Universe would turn to a mighty stranger. I should not seem a part of it. My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods. Time will change it, I’m well aware, as winter changes the trees - my love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath - a source of little visible delight, but necessary." -- Cathy, Chapter 9 p.82

Someone asked me why I love this novel so much, when it is so dark and depressing and the characters are despicable, and I really can't explain why. The closest that I could come up with is that its one of the few novels that I want to read over and over again. And each time I read it, the story somehow becomes new again, and I fall in love again, perhaps even more than the last time. Yes, the world that Emily Brontë created is bleak but it is so rich and multilayered, and the characters will endear themselves to you not because they are likeable but because they are complex and flawed and yes, very much human.

// Screencaps taken from the 2011 Wuthering Heights adaptation by Andrea Arnold. Has anyone seen this movie? I'd love to hear what you think of it and your thoughts on the novel, too.

happy seventy-five, golden gate bridge!

2012-05-28T11:26:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the Golden Gate Bridge's 75th anniversary and we were there to celebrate. It culminated with a fireworks display that was nothing short of spectacular. Especially during the opening sequence when they turned off all the lights on the bridge and then all of a sudden there was a cascading waterfall of lights. So gorgeous!

Watch an awesome video of the fireworks here. I promise it is worth your time.

On a personal note, I thought about what the bridge means to me and felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. For its beauty, for the freedom that it represents, and for the way it comforts me. When I feel like I need to get away from my hectic city life, I often drive across the bridge to go to Marin or Sonoma and come back feeling life myself again. It takes me to faraway coasts, endless hiking trails, quaint little towns along the sea, lush vineyards. Most of all, it takes me back to the city that I love the most.

Photo taken by me, via iPhone Instagram

so many stories

2012-05-21T21:12:00.000-07:00

I would like to step out of my heart
and go walking beneath the enormous sky. -- Rilke

Hello friends! Hisashiburi (This means "It's been a long time" in Japanese).
I have so many things to tell you, I'm not sure where to begin.

A beautiful Saturday evening, sitting on the edge of the water, we watched the brightest moon rise over the bay. Someone was singing, the sound of the crashing waves, the smell of the sea, and magic in the air. I danced barefoot and laughed at my messy pirouettes.

More dancing, this time while waiting in line in front of the crème brûlée cart one Friday night. Holly said she wants to write a poem about the crème brûlée man with beautiful eyes and the Christmas lights inside his truck. Later we went to a used bookstore and I was so happy to see Owen, their resident cat, curled up sleeping on a chair.

Another weekend, I took the wrong freeway exit and ended up in a quaint neighborhood in Berkeley. Found a bookstore called Mrs. Dalloway's. Though I have a rule to buy only used books, how could I resist a shop named after one of my favorite novels and has a whole section dedicated to Virginia Woolf? I simply couldn't. I walked out with a new copy of this book.

This same book I took with me to the coast yesterday afternoon. I had no idea there was going to be a solar eclipse. Someone came and brought a pair of eclipse sunglasses and soon we took turns viewing the partially-covered sun. Feeling a sense of kinship with strangers, standing there on a porch of a beach-house-turned-coffee-shop.

So many stories. My heart is full.

Photo taken by me, via my iPhone.
I also uploaded a short video of our moonviewing here.

sacred afternoons

2012-05-03T21:42:00.000-07:00

I will never grow tired of all this light.

at the park // on top of a hill overlooking the bay // among books and poets //
a quiet corner to read // sitting by the ocean, digging my toes so deep in the sand.

Thank you all for your kind words for my previous post. I am definitely in a much happier space
than I was last month. And its only going up from here. Big hugs. xx

Disposable camera photos, taken by me.

from blossoms

2012-05-01T00:19:00.000-07:00

Late March to April // Some photos from my disposable camera.

I wish I could say that these past two months were as bright and carefree as the images that I took but it was actually the opposite. I felt like I was so thick in the middle of this dark and frightening place that all I could do is to cling passionately to the things that make me happy. Words, beauty, sunsets, films, letters, the sea.

One cold evening, I met up with a good friend for dinner. We hadn't seen each other in awhile and as soon as he saw me, he touched my face and said, with certainty, you're in love. I wanted to cry at the irony of his words, tell him just how difficult the last few weeks were. Then I realized that perhaps he is right. That I am, at least trying to, fall in love with my life again.

There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.
-- Li-Young Lee

nostalgia

2012-04-24T01:18:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, an afternoon
drive to Tomales Bay. I had forgotten
how light my heart feels, driving with the windows
down. Past rows of tall redwood trees,
the smell of barbecue smoke and young,
spring air.

A red bridge with faint wisps of fog above it. Blue, blue sky.
And I thought, you need to remember this. For later.

(Black and white photos taken last year, with my Diana Mini camera)

after 1Q84

2012-04-17T02:10:00.000-07:00

“You can’t easily generalize about pain. Each kind of pain has its own characteristics. To rephrase Tolstoy’s famous line, all happiness is alike, but each pain is painful in its own way.” - Murakami

I finished reading Murakami's 1Q84 a couple of weeks ago, all 925 pages of it, and while I've read another novel since then, I still find myself going back to the world of 1Q84. Perhaps because it is such a heavy book and I carried it with me everywhere for more than a month, reading it every night before I go to bed, perhaps because of its repetitive writing style, the perceptions created by the author has somehow manifested themselves in the way I see things, or perhaps because I connected with its characters, I just know that I had to write something about this book.

Reading 1Q84 was like falling into a rabbit hole. At first I tried to make sense of what is going on but I soon realize that there really is no use of trying to find logic in the surreal. How do you explain a world with two moons? Or little people coming out of a dead goat's mouth? You don't. You simply allow yourself to be carried away by it. For despite the bizarre circumstances and the strangeness of it all, there is still a shared reality, something that each reader can identify and relate to, a feeling, a memory, a longing.

There are so many themes in the novel but the one that really touched me was the characters' feeling of alienation and loneliness, so real that you can see yourself in those moments when you also felt so alone, reaching out for something and you don't quiet know what that something is. Whether it was Aomame sitting by the balcony looking at the empty playground every evening, Tengo reading to his estranged and comatose father in a seaside hospital, or Uchikawa spending all of his day taking pictures of people going in and out of an apartment building, something about these mundane details resonated in me. So much so that as soon as I finished reading the book, I had this sudden urge to take a long train ride somewhere. One where I can travel overnight and watch the sunrise from the window.

I did end up taking an hour train ride to see one of my best friends that evening. Somewhere between my city and his, the rain started falling and as I looked from the window, trying to make out the shapes of the buildings and lights outside, it occurred to me that maybe this is what good fiction is all about. Constructing your own meaning from something that is not real and meditating on it in your everyday life. If so, then 1Q84 has certainly succeeded in doing that and more.

Has any of you read 1Q84? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Photo taken by me, via iPhone Instagram

beneath the cherry blossoms

2012-04-07T13:09:00.000-07:00

Every spring, I always dream of sleeping underneath these trees.
To wake up to a sky covered with cherry blossoms.

The wind is too chilly around here and I'm still nursing a cold so any plans of frolicking outdoors will have to wait until I'm feeling better. Last week I bought a box of loose leaf tea sampler and a little teapot that I am now putting to good use.

Current tea loves: Green Mango Peach and Earl Grey.

A movie that I love inspired me to listen to Erik Satie once again.
I think Gymnopédie No. 1 is one of the most sublime piece of music ever created.

Have a wonderful Easter, my friends. Dream well.

vignette

2012-04-04T22:19:00.000-07:00

At a used bookstore, I was paying for a book and saw you
waiting, holding the door for me. Flustered, I smiled
and said thank you, then walked outside.

The light turned red so I stopped
at the intersection and there you were
on the other side of the street.
You smiled, I nodded in recognition.

It might have been a moment straight out of
a Hallmark commercial, two strangers staring
at each other in the middle of a busy street,
except of course, it wasn't.

The light turned green.
We turned around and started walking
toward the opposite direction.

Later, I opened the book that I bought
and read the first line:

"Why is the measure of love loss?"

film + poetry

2012-04-02T21:38:00.000-07:00

I am currently reading Anne Sexton's Love Poems and while I loved her before, this collection definitely cemented my adoration and awe of her poetry. The themes that she talked about here are by no means easy, mostly about adultery and relationships that can destroy you, but they are also very tangible and honest. They remind me that love is anything but simple and I often find myself catching my breath with each poem.

The movie Breathless also came to my mind while reading this book. Its been awhile since I saw it so my recollection of the story is somewhat hazy but the thing that stood out the most for me was that 'no holds barred' intensity of the couple in the film. They had a very complex love-hate relationship but you can't deny their attraction for each other, no matter how hard they tried to fight it. Jean-Paul Belmondo and Jean Seberg definitely had that special zing! and will always be one of my favorite onscreen couples.

Here is a poem that I chose to complement the scene above. I really love the first lines, she has a way of making each emotion so vivid and immediate, you can almost touch it.

THE KISS
by Anne Sexton

My mouth blooms like a cut.
I've been wronged all year, tedious
nights, nothing but rough elbows in them
and delicate boxes of Kleenex calling crybaby
crybaby , you fool !

Before today my body was useless.
Now it's tearing at its square corners.
It's tearing old Mary's garments off, knot by knot
and see -- Now it's shot full of these electric bolts.
Zing! A resurrection!

Once it was a boat, quite wooden
and with no business, no salt water under it
and in need of some paint. It was no more
than a group of boards. But you hoisted her, rigged her.
She's been elected.

My nerves are turned on. I hear them like
musical instruments. Where there was silence
the drums, the strings are incurably playing. You did this.
Pure genius at work. Darling, the composer has stepped
into fire.

Image from Breathless (1960), courtesy of Rialto Pictures/StudioCanal

it's here!

2012-04-01T07:00:00.000-07:00

April is National Poetry Month, I'm so stoked!
Here are a couple of ways to celebrate a month's worth of poetry :

Download a PDF file or request a free poster and place it above your desk or somewhere you can see it everyday. This year's lovely poster was designed by Chin-Yee Lai, featuring words from the poem Our Valley, by current U.S. Poet Laureate Phillip Levine.

Pick a poem that you love and start memorizing it.

Spend at least 15 minutes of your day reading or writing poetry.

Participate in Poem in Your Pocket Day on Thursday, April 26.

Listen to poetry. Here are some audio archives that you can listen during your commute.

Start giving away poetry to friends, co-workers, strangers. Little ways like posting your favorite verses on Facebook or Twitter, making bookmarks with poetry and leaving them at the library, writing postcards or letters to your loved ones.

The Academy of American Poets also listed 30 ways to celebrate this month.

As for this little blog, look forward to more poetry features in the next few weeks. And maybe some of my own, if I'm feeling brave. Let poetry inspire our lives once again. Here we go!

spring break + a monday mixtape

2012-03-26T15:53:00.000-07:00

Finally, spring break is here! I feel like the cat in this photo, excitedly trying to get my hands on every book that I want to read, every DVD that I want to see. Though to be honest, I can go without any of those right now and just catch up on my sleep.

Feb-March has been really rough for me. A couple of times I felt like my body was ready to fall apart from sheer exhaustion. When you work with children, its not like you can put your head down on your desk and not do anything for 15 minutes, you have to be on your feet pretty much the entire time and be energetic even if you feel so tired inside.

But here we are and I have the entire week to relax and make some big decisions. I am taking it easy on technology and the internet for the next few days so I probably won't be able to answer your emails right away. In the meantime, I made a mixtape that I wanted to share with you, all of these songs really helped me get through the rough days. I hope you will like it, too.

Listen to my mixtape here.

Tracks: Air (Alone in Kyoto) / Feist and Ben Gibbard (Train Song) / Sufjan Stevens (To Be Alone with You) / Mychael Danna (The Winner Is) / Iron & Wine (Flightless Bird, American Mouth) / Rufus Wainwright (Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk) / Au Revoir Simone (All or Nothing) / Lykke Li (Little Bit) / Local Natives (Sticky Thread) / Seabear (Lion Face Boy)

Also, I want to say thank you to Gillian for letting me use the photo above. I love her film photos, especially the ones she took in New Zealand. Check out her photography here.

Image credit: Gillian Lowyck

young adult fiction

2012-03-23T03:35:00.000-07:00

I've been meaning to write a post about young adult novels for some time now. I just started reading them again last year, mostly because I tend to gravitate towards heavy literature with meandering narratives and I really needed something light for a change.

Two of those YA novels are Shannon Hale's Book of a Thousand Days and The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, both I read in one sitting because it was almost impossible to put them down. Both are also first person narratives by female protagonists who are very intelligent, passionate, and brave. I really like that both of these young women were written as independent characters with a lot of inner strength as opposed to your damsel in distress that is so common in fantasy and romance novels.

Book of a Thousand Days is a story about a young maid named Dashti and her personal account of the years she spent locked inside a tower together with the lady that she was serving. I had no expectations before I started reading this novel and was so captivated by it right away. Shannon Hale's writing is very lyrical and she created a world that is both bleak and yet very enchanting at the same time. And as a narrator, Dashti may be one of the most unforgettable voices that I've read in awhile. She is such an inspiring character and you can't help but root for her as she fights to survive and help the ones she love.

Another aspect that I loved about Book of a Thousand Days is that the romance subplot is very believable and realistic. How Dashti fell in love with Khan Tegus without seeing his face first but by talking to him through a tower wall and sharing the same sense of humor. Their conversations and the way they relate to each other felt very real to me and I liked that the story focused on their friendship and how they can make each other laugh. These are the type of characters that you'd want to revisit every now and then or read the story out loud.

On the other hand, The Hunger Games is a plot-driven rather than a character-driven novel. The writing is straightforward and simple but what keeps you hooked is the element of suspense. I wasn't surprised when I found out later that Suzanne Collins was a television screenwriter before she started writing novels because The Hunger Games is very action oriented and fast-paced. And while I thought the plot started to fizzle towards the latter part of the novel, I still really enjoyed reading it.

Because of its upcoming movie adaptation, there's been a lot of comparison between The Hunger Games and the Twilight series but I can tell you right now that aside from having two boys falling for the same girl, the two novels are completely different. The latter is mainly focused on the love story while The Hunger Games is broader in scope and there is a lot more at stake than just the romance. Katniss, the novel's heroine, is so much more independent and kickass compared to a certain someone who is constantly whining and in need of a man to rescue her.

In fact, it is interesting how in both Book of a Thousand Days and The Hunger Games, there is somewhat of a role reversal in your typical male-female dynamic with strong heroines ending up having to protect or risk their lives for the people they care about, Dashti using her wit and healing songs and Katniss with her bow and arrow. In a genre recently dominated by sparkly vampires and weak female characters, this is very refreshing indeed.

Do any of you read young adult novels? Which ones are your favorite?

Image scanned from Fudge Magazine via clever nettle

after the rain, spring.

2012-03-20T22:18:00.000-07:00

It was raining persistently for days here. In my journal, I wrote:
Rain allows us to slow down and pay attention.
To the sound your rubber boots make while stomping in water puddles.
To the taste of green tea, the weight of a cup as your fingers curl around it for warmth.
To every word on a page, while you read and wait for your clothes to dry inside a laundromat.
To the smell of damp earth, after the rain.

Explore: these lovely photographs by miki.
She took them with her Rolleiflex camera.
I really love the stillness of these images.

Happy first day of spring, my friends.

All images used with permission from miki*

like a raft

2012-03-18T23:46:00.000-07:00

I often feel so inadequate every time I try to explain why I love poetry or why I carry poems with me all the time. And last night, after a truly inspiring reading by Jeanette Winterson and how she said that it was language that kept her from falling apart, I can only nod and say, yes.

So many times in my life when I feel sad or overwhelmed by loss, and even as I walk around my chest still feels so heavy, its always poetry that I come back to, over and over. The poems that I've memorized, they know my story, shared all of my pain.

In the same way that Naomi Shihab Nye wrote this poem for Edna St. Vincent Millay. Especially the part about poems being portable, something that you can hold on to, like a raft.

You Know Who You Are

Why do your poems comfort me, I ask myself.
Because they are upright, like straight-backed chairs.
I can sit in them and study the world as if it too
were simple and upright.

Because sometimes I live in a hurricane of words
and not one of them can save me.
Your poems come in like a raft, logs tied together,
they float.
I want to tell you about the afternoon
I floated on your poems
all the way from Durango Street to Broadway.

Fathers were paddling on the river with their small sons.
Three Mexican boys chased each other outside the library.
Everyone seemed to have some task, some occupation,
while I wandered uselessly in the streets I claim to love.

Suddenly I felt the precise body of your poems beneath me,
like a raft, I felt words as something portable again,
a cup, a newspaper, a pin.
everything happening had a light around it,
not the light of Catholic miracles,
the blunt light of a Saturday afternoon.
light in a world that rushes forward with us or without us.
I wanted to stop and gather up the blocks behind me
in this light, but it doesn’t work.
You keep walking, lifting one foot, then the other,
saying “This is what I need to remember”
and then hoping you can.

--from Words Under the Words (1994) by Naomi Shihab Nye

here's to you, jack keroauc.

2012-03-12T19:32:00.000-07:00

“I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all. The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past childhood or past manhood and all the living and the dying and the heartbreak that went on a million years ago and the clouds as they pass overhead seem to testify (by their own lonesome familiarity) to this feeling. Ecstacy, even, I felt, with flashes of sudden remembrance, and feeling sweaty and drowsy I felt like sleeping and dreaming in the grass." -- The Dharma Bums (1958)

A favorite quote in honor of Jack Kerouac. Today would have been his 90th birthday.

And always, I go back to his advice whenever I need of inspiration:
"Write in recollection and amazement for yourself."

Read the rest of his list of writing essentials here.

itemization

2012-03-10T23:35:00.000-08:00

// Today

Watched: 1 foreign film
Wrote: 4 letters
Folded: 7 origami hearts
Drank: 1 cup of coffee, 1 cup of tea
Read: 2 chapters of 1Q84, 1 chapter of Yun Zhong Ge

Not just because I want to
But because it was necessary.

have a lovely weekend.

2012-03-09T16:32:00.000-08:00

Five really good things this week:
Writing this post from a library by the ocean.
An ice cream shop a block away from this library.
4 p.m. and sunny, the sight of kids walking home from school.
My sisters embarking on their own adventures overseas.
One good pirouette after thousands of not-so-good ones.

I am thinking how there's so much truth to this quote. There were times this week when I was ready to pull my hair out and hide under the bedcovers and do absolutely nothing. But I am so glad I did do something. Little steps.

Have a lovely one, my friends. I hope you do something that you love this weekend. xo

Photo by me. Taken last summer in Bolinas, California.

today's inspiration: pina

2012-03-07T06:00:00.000-08:00

I recently saw the documentary Pina, a dance film in 3D dedicated to the famous choreographer Pina Bausch. To say that I was moved by it is certainly an understatement. It was as if someone took me by the hand and said, "Watch this and do something (with your life)."

What that something is, I have no idea. But this documentary is one of those works of art that inspires you to look closely at your own life. Not just accept the status quo but take risks. Or at least stop over thinking and just do. I went through a whole gamut of emotions throughout the movie and I am pretty sure anyone who watches it will take something from the experience, whether you are interested in dance or not.

Ideally, it would be best to see this film at the theater because of its 3D feature but if its not playing anywhere near you, I really hope that you guys can watch it on DVD.

Have a look at these clips below, a tribute to Joy and Love.

Photo and clips taken from Pina (2011), a film for Pina Bausch by Wim Wenders.

letter no. 2

2012-03-05T20:54:00.000-08:00

Hello, friends! I decided to continue my letter project. The plan is to set aside some time during the weekend to put away my computer and cellphone and start writing by hand. I can't promise that it will be a weekly feature but I will try to post a letter at least once a month.

Here is letter number 2. I wrote it on a stationary set that I got from a Japanese dollar store and added some polka dotted washi tape on the envelope. Click on scan for a larger view.

P.S. In case you haven't read it yet, here is my first letter. xo, Odessa

after work, twin peaks

2012-03-02T18:33:00.000-08:00

I have been so exhausted and feeling overwhelmed in last few days that the sight of these little wildflowers bathed in golden sunlight was almost too much.

Really, this city just breaks my heart sometimes.

Photo via my iPhone

happy leap day!

2012-02-29T18:30:00.000-08:00

Natsumi Hayashi is a photographer who takes self-portraits of herself levitating all over Tokyo. Aren't these photos awesome? I certainly admire her for taking jumping shots in public spaces!

And speaking of jumping shots, I saw this jump series by Philippe Halsman for Life Magazine and couldn't help but smile. I especially love the ones of Audrey Hepburn and Brigitte Bardot.

All images by Natsumi Hayashi. You can see more of her photos here.

music monday: dreams of travel

2012-02-27T21:35:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, while traveling on a train to Fresno, I kept thinking about the song from Wes Anderson's Hotel Chevalier. I saw this short film a couple of years ago and really enjoyed it. And Where Do You Go To My Lovely was just the right song for the bittersweet mood of the story.

Listening to it evokes images of sitting in outdoor cafés or looking out from a balcony in Paris whilst sipping your morning coffee. It definitely made me long to travel abroad, pretend that the train I was riding for hours was headed somewhere else instead of Central California.

Have a listen to the song below:
Peter Sarstedt :: Where Do You Go To My Lovely

There are a lot of places that I long to go but it's no secret that Japan is at the top of my list. I think this photo of a coffee shop in Nagoya speaks for itself. You know those fantasy movies where someone ends up jumping inside a photograph? I would probably choose to go inside this one. A small café in Japan, bicycle with a basket, handwritten signs -- this is so me.

And now its your turn to answer the same question.
Where do you go to my lovely, when you're alone in your bed?

Top image from Hotel Chevalier (2007). Watch the short film here.
Komomo Café photo by mloge via Flickr.

orange sanguine

2012-02-25T15:38:00.000-08:00

Flowers and a bag of tangerines from my trip to the market this morning.

I've been so haggard and sleep-deprived lately. A quick walk to do weekend errands, say hello to this beautiful cat at my neighborhood bookstore, and pick up some blossoms were exactly what I needed. Amazing how much sunshine and bursts of color can make a difference. I still have tons of reports to do and my apartment is a disaster but at least it feels like I can finally breathe.

Recently, I also bought a cologne that makes my day a little brighter. Its called Orange Sanguine, a mixture of oranges, jasmine, and geranium. I love the short narrative that goes with this scent:

“It was the kind of moment you would want to revisit. Everyone was here, gathered on the terrace for breakfast, and the scent of fresh oranges was diffusing in the yellow heat. A symphony of their laughter and waves hitting the cliffs played in the air.”

What kind of memory did you want to revisit today?

Mine is this. Exactly a year ago in Playa del Carmen, Mexico.

winter calm

2012-02-17T13:17:00.000-08:00

During the Lunar New Year, I accidentally found a used copy of a poetry book by the Japanese Buddhist monk Ryōkan and I haven't been anywhere without it since. I've been reading it while on my lunch breaks and every time I need a quiet space. It's so simple and yet so very true that I often find myself catching my breath at his vivid imagery.

They remind me of these stunning winter images by Joël Tettamanti that I thought I should share with you some of his photographs, along with my favorite verses by Ryōkan. I especially love the pops of color against the snowy white in these photos.

My closest friends are the mountains and rivers,
Clouds swallow up my shadow as I walk along,
When I sit on the cliffs, birds soar overhead.
Wearing snowy straw sandals, I visit cold villages.
Go as deep as you can into life,
And you will be able to let go of even blossoms.

The rain stops but the eaves drip and drip.
Perfect this moment -
In the vast emptiness, my understanding deepens.

The wind gives me
Enough fallen leaves
To make a fire.

All images by Joël Tettamanti. You can see more of his work here.
Verses from Dewdrops on a Lotus Leaf: Zen Poems of Ryōkan, translated by John Stevens.