I have a weird work schedule so I sleep in my own bedroom. When my mother in law stayed with us, I moved a mattress into this loft with half of the kids’ books. It’s so cozy that I’m still here.
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One summer morning in 2021, we played in the five-foot side yard, hiding from the sun’s brutal light.
We just bounced a red ball back and forth.
He stood in the middle to intercept the ball. She threw it over and around her brother. I just tried to keep it from devolving into pure pandemonium.
In that moment, I realized this was a once in a lifetime event. It was so out of normal, this wasn’t going to be repeated.
Last May, I finally walked the arroyo in the neighborhood. The gravel gully led to this very concrete channel where plants insist on taking root in every available crack. I now regularly stroll thorough this arroyo, feeling the microseasons. It’s my path of centering.
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This afternoon we walked a couple loops around the local elementary school. The second time, boy decided to ride his bike. He swept circles through the parking lot, his teal jacket basking in the golden haze of an almost setting sun.
This is a time of utter chaos that will eventually reach us 2,400 miles out from its epicenter.
But today was a perfect day.
As I’ve matured, I’ve realized that we never get to live our dreams (life is much too mundane for our wild imaginations). That’s OK, this dour realization has freed me to savor such fleeting moments.
This kitchen table continues to serve us over twenty years through six abodes.
This afternoon, we thoroughly cleaned up lunch (cod, broccoli, and rice).
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It’s been four months since I posted the letter “Q”.
These hand sketches were photographed last year, so it’s just a matter of tidying the images and writing a little journal entry to mark the passage of time.
I started the year hoping to catch up on the backlog—let things go, either out to the wild or into the private archives.
Hopefully I now have the mental space to do this work.1
Of course, there is a fresh set of sketches to scan. And tiny poems . And those zines that I slammed together twenty months ago.
One step at a time.
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To repeat myself: if you’re unsure about staying at your current job, it’s time to leave.↩︎
We have limited screen time for the kids, and they have been spending it slowly working through all the free episodes on Pokemon TV. I’m very close to canceling our Disney+ subscription, but here are some goodies from the past few few months.
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Elementals, Peter Sohn, 2023
Another forgettable Pixar movie. Two months after watching it with the kids, I remember almost nothing from the film.
But the visuals are cool.
All I remember are everyone else’s opinions — the overblown negative commentary when it came out, the reaction that it’s actually good, and my kids enjoyment.
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Spirited Away, Hayao Miyazaki, 2001
The train scene is one of my favorite moments in film. Beautiful, slow paced, fully earned.
My personal preference still lies with Isao Takahata (My Neighbors the Yamadas and Pom Poko) and Whisper of the Heart (Yomshifumi Kondo, 1995), but this movie is the Ghibli masterpiece. So good that Mama and I talked about watching movies together as a family more often.
Over the years, I had developed a silly notion that Spirited Away is ponderous. It is slower than blame western animation’s junk food freneticism, but it earns every minute. Each frame is gorgeous and no time is wasted. It’s paced perfectly.
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The Nightmare Before Christmas, Henry Selick, Tim Burton, Danny Elfman, 1993
Watched it again for Halloween, I suspect this will be a annual tradition.
Last year, I suddenly noticed Mr. Burton’s cuddly spookiness everywhere. I wonder what it feels like to be an artist who has visually conquered a holiday.
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Mickey’s Christmas Carol, Burney Mattinson, 1983
As I remembered it from growing up. Fun like The Muppet’s Christmas Carol, but shorter. But we haven’t found our Christmas movie yet.
The boy kept counting how many ghosts were in the movie.
Instead of the usual everyday magic, here is the holiday card that I posted onto Facebook for my friends.
For the past two years, I’ve been hassling the family to take a hike in the hills above our house. Once you get up the slope, it’s an easy jaunt down the old mining road.
About a half a mile in, you come across the foundation of an old building. I have no idea about its original purpose, but it’s now a canvas for graffiti artists and a delight for the occasional wanderer.
The kids jumped around this colorful place as the sun set behind our heads, bathing the Las Vegas strip with a golden orange aura.
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While cleaning up our PC desktop, I found a photo from our visit to Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego at La Jolla last March.
This was quite the treat because Vegas regrettably is short on art museums.
It wasn’t easy to wrangle two young kids around high priced pieces of art; the guards were not amused. But after years of not seeing high art, it was so totally worth it.
With a location a block away from the Pacific ocean, this museum was magic for sure, though hardly “everyday”.
Here’s to finding magic throughout the new year!
A five year old dangerously close to a Peter Alexander sculpture
he messed around on and off run around knock the bowl of the table
rice and corian everywhere mama yelling boy crying
no snacks for a week! sister got her popsicle he announced 我今天要一个popsicle或者看姐姐有一个popsicle! (Today, I wanted a popsicle, or watch sister have a popsicle!)
grandma cooking lunch, watching a drama, charging the ipad
the long cord swept a salt shaker off the counter no snacks for grandma!
