INVITATION

Watched the Hobbit today. What a beautifully crafted movie. From cast, costume, music to story line, everything is near perfect. Martin Freeman is simply fabulous. I totally agree with Peter Jackson that there will not be another person who can play Bilbo like him. Richard Armitage's Thorin is brilliant. He looks so handsomely young and vulnerable among his merry going companions. Whenever he is in, he brings with him the pain, the heaviness and the nobility of a lost prince. The whole movie is fast paced to the end except some scenes like in Rivendell and the Brown Sorcerer.  I hope the 2nd and 3rd movie will give more screen time to Thorin as his character develops. He has yet to show his cunning, calculating side. I become a fan of the Lord of the Rings rather late, 4 years later after they were out. Christmas of 2004 I borrowed the DVDs from a local library, and was totally unprepared for the impact. I believe there will not be another actor who could deliv...

Done Christmas shopping. Simply and easy. It took me a while to find out what I want, though - pink zinfandel nail polish and Rules of Civility. Jacob is promoting 50% off of all items. I was so tempted to buy more, but I checked myself - no, no more, I bought a few pieces two months ago, and that was enough. I know the pink zinfandel will go well with my black dress. Have to admit I am not a fashion pursuer. My best friend used to laugh at my loose jeans and cardigan that only seniors wear. But my taste is not as bad as of those being scrutinized on What Not to Wear . I am just not bold enough to wear bright purple tights, like some people do, out in the public. I did not inherit much fashion sense from my mother. She is a beautiful woman, but unfortunately  grew up in a repressed era of black, grey and white. She never got the chance to dress up to her beauty when she was young. I remember one day, I was probably 3 or 4 years old, watching her trying on a couple of skirt...

I am not trained to appreciate classic arts. From a layman's point, I like paintings that show a balanced and harmonious blend of color and shapes. So when I went to see a collection of master pieces by Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet, Renoir and many other modern artists, my eyes naturally set on those with natural appeals. I was awed by Renoir's Boating Party . I stood in front of the painting for a long time. The whole picture is like a movie, a show, so lively depicted that I felt like I could hear the people talking, glass and china wear clinking, and I could swear I saw them moving. Then I set my eyes on Van Gogh's Wheat Fields at Auvers with House. There were several other Van Gogh's paintings in the museum, and this one may not be his best work, but it nailed my eye. If you walk close to it, you could see the strokes, with so much forces, as if the colors were thrown to the canvas, with such urgency, as if this would be the final chance to catch the view, to let ou...

They were a gift to her, five in total, small, in colored glass bottles. She opened each of them to inhale the other worldly aroma. She gave the green one to her best friend and kept the rest of them. Diorissimo is her favorite. It is elegant, classy, clean and slightly ricy, reminder of the mundane world lying beyond. The scent makes her feel like being in love. She brought it from the noisy and dusty city to San Jose, to the snowy lakes up north and from there to the coast mountains. She brought all four of them with her, using each on different occasions. But she was careful with Diorissimo, because of what it could kindle. She was afraid of its power, which would expose her to vulnerable feelings and passions. She would only wear it when there were other distractions, other things that could protect her from being led away, from being lost. She can't remember when she lost the purple Poison. She can't remember when Diorissimo's cap disappeared. But she remembers ...

One of the achievements I made during the trip back home is to bring back some of my favorite books. I managed to take my Riverside Shakespear , A Room with a View , The Dream of Red Mansion , Out of Laws in the Marsh , Selected Chinese Classic Poems back. I could not wait to read A Room with a View again. In the opening chapter of his book E. M. Forster, Trilling (1965) stated that "E. M. Forster is...the only...novelist who can be read again and again and who, after each reading, gives me what few writers can give us after our first days of novel-reading, the sensation of having learned something." I totally agree with Trilling. I started reading Forster from A Room with a View , then to Howards End, then to A Passage to India . I was extremely intrigued by his language, simple but rich, playful yet serious. A Room with a View remains one of my favorite stories. It is a book that enchants you, in a relaxed manner, with its melodramatic story and wi...

I remember the campus cafe in the corridor where we met briefly before our classes began the coffee was diluted and flavorless but we didn't mind I remember the table in the library by the window where we minded our homework listening to our favorite band from your laptop I remember the cold snowy night when we strode together from campus to dorm but making hot tea and peanut butter toasts with such a haste I remember our days in Kauai when we lost all our luggage during transfer at Chicago the blizzards delayed our flight I remember on the beach, waves upon me taking me away, desperate I was I hold tight to your feet, flipping you over you laughed - honey, this is not the right way to get rescued you also said - don't be scared, I am not far away I remember we drove all day only to discover the waterfalls thin lines of trickls but had the best lunch at Ono's burger the red dirt chicken were curiously close some dared to rob from our ha...

Sympathy can turn into love, but I wonder how long such relationship can last when one realizes that the love is not the love. Will one just put a stop to that relationship and start anew? Is it easy to shake off obligations without feeling guilt? I have known great love, love that overcomes difficult times, personal weakness, temptations elsewhere, and grows stronger. Yet I have seen more relationships dissipated like a puff of smoke. We write more love songs than anything else, but even the song writers can not keep their relationship a life time. For ordinary people, we have duties to fulfill and conscience to follow. Most of us can't just walk away like nothing has ever happened. Eventually separation becomes a material thing rather than emotional. We measure the relationship in terms of dollars, not love. We measure what we lost and what we can gain. We fight for what we think we deserve to have to compensate for what we have paid. We often want more than that, but we don...

I raised my arm to touch his face his chin clean shaved I could smell the scent of soap and feel the bristly stubble, restless tingling my fingers I dreamed of his voice, deep and resonating his eyes, glacier blue under the starry sky, the bay was quiet, the breezes were soft like Autumn water, I cried out his name a thousand times and the poundings of my heart all dispersed into the silence Our paths are parallel divided by oceans and continents distanced by planets I could only release my soul be it captured and wrapped by his light Longings and dreams, I put them in a package with no return address I send them away, set them free away they go and depart from me will they never come back to me cut them, burn them, drown them, smother them will they never come back to me Waves ebbed footprints erased there and back again, the vast emptiness is restored to me

"So," Marcus put down his fork and looked at me, "when are you going to introduce me to your parents?" "Pretty soon," I said, "I am planning it." But I am not so sure about Ma and Pa meeting Marcus, after what my brother Steve has gone through. Actually I should say Ma is the problematic one. She had an allergic reaction to my brother's girlfriends. She grew up in a culture where openly shown affection and intimacy was a taboo. She was uneasy to see my brother and his girlfriend getting too close. A couple of times, they were watching TV in the living room. Ma would marched in the room and sit down beside them. They felt so uncomfortable that they soon retreated into Steve's room. If the girl stayed after 10:00 pm, Ma would become restless. She would go upstairs, knock on my door and speak in an unusually loud voice urging me to go take shower and get ready for bed. She made sure that her voice was loud enough to penetrate into the l...

Rohan, My dear friend, where are you and how are you? It has been so long and today while I digged into my memories, I all of sudden recalled your little room, simple and clean, with your guru's picture on the wall. I could see it from the river street. I remember sitting in your room, while you made tea. You don't talk much. You left the tea on the table, picked up your book and continued reading. Your little room was the shelter where all noises of the outside world were shielded away. How peaceful to be there, no need to talk, no need to engage in anything, just being there, was such a joy. Do you still remember the day that we rode our bikes, with your friends to the city relics? You got me a 28" bike which was so tall that I couldn't get on it. We laughed all the way, seeing things, roaming in the allies. It was a hot summer day. You must have become a proud father now, with giggling little ones. Can you still find a quiet corner at home reading? I bet you...

I remembered to water my flowers today. I almost ignored them for 3 days after I got my computer. This is the first computer I have that I don't have to share with others. I am so happy to have it. My flowers are doing just fine, I have found. Strawberry is not doing so well though. The fruits are small. While I was cleaning away dead leaves in pot, I found a peanut, with whole shell buried in the earth. It must have happened not so long ago as the shell was still clean. I wonder who buried the peanut there. Beibei said the blue jay. Of course. I have seen them stopping by my balcony. I put the peanut back to where it was, hoping whoever buried it there will be able to find it later. When I was young, we lived in a room in a 3 storey brick apartment building, sharing bathroom (or should say toilet) and kitchen with 3 other families. We burned coal for cooking and heating. The floor was concrete. We had a few simple pieces of furniture just to satisfy the day to day use. Back...

Lunch time, we brought our container to the cafeteria as usual, sat down at our usual table, eating and chatting. We gossip about different things. Today because there was a new hire, we started talking about those who left and those who stay. Somehow our topic shift to: What do you notice the first when you meet a man? Goodness, we are ladies in our prime, familied and delivered, and we are talking about guys. Even the younger ones, 20s and 30s joined the conversation. We actually found out that looks do not matter that much, what matters the most is hygiene. Which is so true! We toil at home cleaning polishing dusting washing air refreshing, and take pride in doing so, and will be furious if such work be ruined in seconds. ********** It rained a bit in the afternoon. The air smells like ocean. Fishie was waiting for me at home, eager to eat. He bit in the food fast and vigorously. Then off he went, hiding in his cave to digest. A blue jay flew in my balcony. I stoppe...

Very good TV Series. Superb acting, minute details in costume and sites, facial expressions, theme music, all making it a gem in period dramas. I became a fan of Richard Armitage for a while. I found a photo of him in North & South, see the softness in his eyes when he looks at Margaret.

I finished reading I sabella of France, written by Alison Weir. What an entertaining book! I totally enjoyed it. I like Weir's straightforward narrative style. Her language is simple and informative. Although there is not much about Isabella's life on history relics, Weir is able to fill in the gaps using her rich knowledge of that historic era. Weir is an untrained historian. Because of this she was able to break out of the conventional historian way, and produce a compelling story.

The day I met Lumen was a little dramatic. I was studying in the library as usual when I heard the announcement that a blizzard was on the way. It was only 3pm on a Thursday in February. I lived quite close to campus, so I though just a bit longer in the warm and cozy law school library would not hurt. When I left the library, it was already past 6, and the blizzard was half way through. It had totally changed the landscape, dumping feet of snow every where. Wind and snow slashed down, and it was impossible to tell where the roads were. On a good day, it took me about half a hour to get to school from my apartment. I was hungry and wanted badly to get back to my apartment. So I pressed on walking against the wind and snow. It was exhausting to walk in the knee deep snow with a heavy backpack. A couple of times I almost stepped into the road side drain ditch. There was not a soul on the road, no cars at all. From sky down the whole world was swirled with snow. I did not no...