Late Bloomer

A few months ago, I got my very first, brand spanking new car. Now I am not fresh out of College so it may seem odd to just be getting it now. But for someone who has lived majority of her life in big cities, it has never been a need. But LA demands a car. A reliable, agile car, that hopefully wouldn’t stop in the middle of its crazy, unforgiving highways. So finally, I understand the meaning of that new car smell that everyone raves about. Wow...power windows?! Yahoo.

This reminded me of what a best friend once told me. She said it seems to take me awhile to get the things that I wanted, and not only that, but it also seems to be a harder process for me to get them. And she was absolutely right. She then added, “but when you get them, it’s very very good, and pretty wonderful.”

I'll have you know that I only just found out how much of a girl I truly was a few years ago. In fact, make-up, fashion, exercising and eating healthy…boys, didn’t really become part of my repertoire until I was a working woman. Looking at 12-yr olds these days, I feel like such a prude. i-Pods and cell phones are only recent buddies of mine. The i-Phone? Let’s talk in 5 years. I guess this is also why I treasure what I do have. Because it took a lot for me to get them.

Last week, I had my birthday.
It was also the first day of the new President Elect.



I couldn't have imagined a better birthday gift. It was a new day for me, for the country, and for the whole freakin’ world. It took America a very long time to get here, but it got here.
And it is damn wonderful.
And, it is not too late.

Later that day, I saw an abundant Wishing Tree in a Pasadena plaza and I couldn’t help but add a few wishes of my own.



I didn’t wish for my wishes to get here fast, but rather I wished for them to linger, to last when they do get here.
Because it doesn’t matter to me if I am a so-called late bloomer in many ways, as long as when I get it, or when I get there,
it’s the real thing.

KILLER CAMPAIGN

For awhile now, I’ve been a big fan of Showtime’s DEXTER.
You know the serial killer that murders bad guys alone, saving the world in the process? He is quite literally, a disarming anti-hero.
http://www.sho.com/site/dexter/home.do

It’s sick. But wonderfully sick.

I’ve been a supporter, but when I saw their latest marketing push, I became a fan-atic.



As someone who does pesky “ads” for a living, I appreciated the power of the singular idea and more importantly, the dedication in their dollar-spending.



They created a series of fake magazine covers that had Dexter Morgan as the cover boy. Following the likeness of some very popular magazines like New Yorker, Rolling Stones, Esquire, GQ, Wired etc., they went to town with it. All over the town in fact.
In some places, they even had faux magazine stands. http://www.cherryflava.com/cherryflava/2008/10/page/3/

The whole campaign flaunted the poster boy notion of a perfect idol, while the captions of the magazine covers were all about sick puns (now of course, in advertising, ‘puns’ are "deadly" wrong—but in this case, they work).

I wonder if somehow, these covers also reflect the way America seems to idolize people they hardly know? Makes you think…

To look at the opening title sequences of the TV show, you marvel at the chill it gives you. All trite, seemingly everyday routine stuff are shot in a way that makes you think of perverse gore.



The sequence was created by Digital Kitchen, a company that won numerous awards first for their title sequence for Six Feet Under, then most recently, Dexter. Eric Anderson was the Creative Director for both. How I wish I had created them. How I wish I had his job.

Dexter is a study in contrasts. A character that is soooo frightening when you really think hard about it. But at the same time, he is but a lost, vulnerable being, who is at once saving himself, as well as the rest of mankind from true evil.

Michael C. Hall is the only man for the role as he brings such depth and believability to the character. He could win you with one sparkling boyish grin, and send chills down your spine within seconds, with a fleeting devilish look. A superb supporting cast rounds up the right combination.

I love that both their ad campaign and the TV show make people think. Not everything is wrapped up in a neat, nice conclusive package—it leaves viewers the room to breathe and to take in the information however way they’d like.
I appreciate being treated with due respect for my brains.

It’s my current favorite show. Maybe because I love flawed characters.
And dark sides. Everyone has one. Anyone who says they don’t is lying or in denial. How else can we define the light, if not for the dark?

BOO!

It's been way too long since my last entry.


But like ghosts and goblins, I too make a come back during this season.

I've been very busy the past few months. If you ask me details of what exactly happened, I wouldn't know where to begin. I know I’ve had at least 5 rounds of visitors, a few classes, a case of bad rashes around summer, many trips to Disneyland and the rest is a BLURRR.

But one thing for sure is–I am happy where I am.


My place is a work in progress and I like it that way.
I too will always be an unfinished project.

A few projects I’ve been busy with include sustaining my own herb garden (well, "pot" really), and baking my own muffins and cupcakes. Somehow, as I am beating that batter or chopping the very aromatic basil leaves, I feel whole again. There is something about touching, feeling, and smelling them at their raw state that is magical to me.



There is also a general wellness that I feel while doing them. Is it that feeling of "taking care of one's self"? My mom would disagree about the healthfulness of muffins, but knowing what I am putting in them and being able to control it, now that’s definite power.
At the very least, they keep me grateful during these turbulent uncertain times.

I’ve experimented with not so common recipes, like avocado cupcakes...


Take that Magnolia Bakery! (http://www.magnoliabakery.com/)

While I am baking a lot these days, let's not forget that I still consider myself a New Yorker. So don't even think that I’ve suddenly gone domesticated and all. I've maintained the right to wear black even in the heat of the Southern California summer. And for damn sure, my adorable trick or treaters will be subjected to just enough taste of that New York City sarcasm.

And if they're lucky, a serving of vegetable muffin!

FWRD To 7032 Washington

I’ve arrived in LA.
No drumrolls, and certainly no red carpet rolling. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

Since my last entry, and what I intended to be an idyllic beginning to my next chapter, several surprises happened. You might even call them misadventures.

I had left my old apartment with a heavy heart. A soft romanticized view of it and my life there took hold. Later on, that gooey feeling disappeared quickly as the building manager told me about fixes they'd want to attend to, a.k.a, some deposit money will be taken out. "Well forget that then, and get me outta here fast". Days after that, my van got broken into. The whole back windshield was shattered into pieces. To this day I am still finding broken glass all around. Frozen, it took me a day or so to actually get upset over this. And more days to realize just how much the thieves have taken. But still, I didn't take it as a sign not to go, instead I hurried my remaining packing even more. A mean cold and cough followed. By this I mean the drowning in your own snot kind. By the time I was ready to drive off to my perfect and much-deserved relaxing drive to Sunny SoCal, pouring rain took over. So instead of poetically sipping wine in the vineyards of Santa Barbara, I was running, ducking into boutiques for cover, juggling blowing my nose and holding on to an umbrella. Again, I refused for anyone or anything to literally rain on my parade. So I found things to enjoy even in the rain. This to a lot of people means shopping and eating and that's exactly what I did. Lots of eating and a little shopping. Days upon arriving in LA, a numb-and-cramping kind of injury took over my left leg, followed by a bumper to bumper tap in the parking lot after Christmas. It was at this point that I started to mentally say, "Just give it to me already. All of it. So that I can finally start to have fun now."

I write about this adventure with still quite a bit of sense of humor in check. Because while a barrage of bad luck seemed to have happened all at once, I was carried by true friends who made sure I was driven to safety...who provided a roof over my head along with a warm and soothing meal....who gave me gentle words that lifted me. They were my angels in the form of a Scarlet Rose and one Very Knowledgeable Contender. To them, I am deeply grateful. Thank you for ensuring that this journey continued. Without them and all of my friends and family, I would have just sat in a corner, tired. To the Ghetto Geisha, Cuzins and the Brunch Girls in NYC, to the newly-found, lifelong "Friends-la" in HK, SF and LA chapters, thank you for the belief. Thank you for supporting my dream.


I realize that it was not my spirit that was stolen, not my dreams that were smashed. My belief system was not dampened by the rain. Determined to look ahead and not behind, in my less than perfect transition, I found something unexpected. What I'm made of.


Sitting in a very cold yet charming apartment, everything’s quite in disarray around me. Boxes half falling and half full. Everything quite a mess. And there's no other place I'd rather be. No other state of mind.

It’s the road of my choosing and maneuvering. This is where I will hang my soggy coat for now and where I will park my shiny, old van––in a locked garage.

Stand By

I'll be taking a little break for a few weeks.
In a creative's life it is often necessary to retreat in order to reasssess and focus on what needs to get done.

After the talking about, the analyses, and the planning, comes the hard part, the "doing". It's actually show time.

I have often said that I want to be the one that people write about, that I do not merely want to just observe and talk about others' great creative, but I want to be the one whose work they are making a big fuss about.

For me to begin getting there at this point in time, I find it necessary to pour all my energy on my personal tasks at hand.
I'll be taking care of my SoCal move and will be back to share my adventures and misdaventures after I've settled. This trip that I'm about to make is a very important journey for me.

In the mean time, keep living the best life you can live, full of passion and action!
I'll catch up with you and your muse soon enough.

Are you brave enough?

I was reading the magazine, FAST COMPANY the other day when I chanced upon an article on designer Yves Behar of fuseproject.
In it he had a quote that stayed with me.


This made me think about fear.
To start any kind of change or uprising in life, bravery is called for.
Bravery is not really the absence of fear.
It’s having fear but choosing to overcome it.
It’s having fear but behaving productively “inspite of it”.
Is your fear going to be your friend or your foe in your pursuits?

A few questions for you to reflect upon:

Are you brave enough to fail?

Are you brave enough to look like a fool?

Are you brave enough to be imperfect?

Are you brave enough to be original?

Are you brave enough to be the only one?

Are you brave enough to love regardless of return?

Are you brave enough to sweat?

Are you brave enough to do what’s right?

Are you brave enough to lose everything?

Are you brave enough to get back up again?

Are you brave enough to dare to take the road less traveled?

Are you brave enough to question?

Are you brave enough to admit when something’s not working? And then change course?

Are you brave enough to disagree?

Are you brave enough to leave your laurels behind?

Are you brave enough to be wrong?

Are you brave enough to start all over again?

Finally, that "thing" that you really, really want,
how badly do you really want it?

Because your answer pretty much determines whether you’re on your way to getting it or not.

Front and Center

We all wear masks to a certain degree whether we care to admit it or not. Sometimes I wonder who the real me is. Is the "me" that I think is me, not the real me but the product of a programmed version of myself through years of what others thought I was, or what I thought the world expected and allowed me to be?

We all play a certain role in our lives.
My recurring role was always that of middleman, a very tiring position to be in.

We should all be leading ladies/men in our own lives instead. I read that once somewhere. And it hit me hard. Most of us do fall into the trap of behaving like we don’t deserve to be stars in our own show that is our lives. Our days are spent in type-casted, supporting roles to others’ quests. We let others play director and a few others dictate the look and feel.

It’s never too late to turn that spotlight around on “you”. Life is short and film is not only limited but expensive.

The version of me today wants to defy being defined. I’d like to think that I am much more imaginative than that. I have found that the most inspired me is when I’m just left to be “me”.
No second-guessing. No editing.

This Halloween, I was an "unkempt, zombie-ish rag-doll-that's-out-for-revenge-on-the-little-girl-that-did-not-take-very-good-care-of-her". A last minute change in what I’d originally wanted to be---Sally from "Nightmare Before Christmas". Same family but with a twist.

In my movie, even the disheveled and the imperfect can be headliners. Sure it wasn’t a pretty, princess costume, but then again, who said I ever wanted to be a princess?

Tomorrow I don't quite know what I'll transform into. But for now, let's have a go at it, Superstars!