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The Hours

To begin with - The Hours is one of my all-time favorite films. The last time I watched it, however, was over two years ago, so I thought it was worth a re-watch and it definitely was. The Hours is a movie about a lot of things. It could be about three suicide attempts, two of them being successful. It could be a story about traumatic childhood experiences reemerging in adulthood, or even the importance of mental health in women and minorities. Perhaps it's about three versions of Mrs. Dalloway - the perfect hostess with the perfect life and perfect husband and perfect...everything, except for being alone and locked away from the love she desires. The movie begins with Virginia Woolf, and through her story, we learn of her home life and mental instability. She passionately kisses her sister, Vanessa, who passionately kisses her back. Even though Virginia has so many things going for her - her own room, a loving and successful husband, a wonderful house and a writing room - but
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In Class Blog Post #2 // Out of the Blue

When I was four, my grandmother took me to the beach for the first time in my life. There, we searched for diamonds in the waves. I recall that day fondly, remembering my squeal at my initial contact with the ocean. It was so cold, but I quickly adjusted and splashed in the surf to collect my diamonds. I could see them, I really could. The diamonds blanketed the water, making the beautiful blue waters shimmer gold and white in the sunlight. For some reason though, they would slip through my fingers and I was unable to capture them. My grandmother was laughing too, I remember, which was strange and delightful for me. She was such a severe figure, and yet, we were having fun at the beach. Even as a young child, I found that slightly strange. I don't remember what I had for lunch, what I was wearing, or even whether or not the beach was in Taiwan, which was our home country, or in the United States, where I live now. I just remember running through the waves and giggling and ev
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Unit 2 Blog Post

How powerful is music as a language or a bridge between reality and imagination? I suppose the short answer is "really really really  powerful. But then the next question is why? What makes music different? I volunteered at Ability First in high school while I was living in LA. I was perhaps only 13 when Sami [not his real name] came in. Sami was five years old, non-verbal and severely autistic due to a lack of intervention. He would fecal smear, take electronics apart almost instantly, and required 24/7 care. We found out pretty quickly, that Sami loved playing the piano. And so we pulled out the terrible cheap keyboard and let him go at it. Within three months, he was beginning to sing song lyrics. He was still nonverbal, but he would occasionally belt out several lines of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star or Mary Had a Little Lamb. On his 6th birthday, there was a birthday party for him in which we stuck some LED stars on the ceiling. Sami pointed up at the littl
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Unit One Post

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Can we trust our memories? Do they encompass  everything  we have gone through? These were just two of the many questions that I sought to answer during the journey we took through unit one. During the last two weeks, we talked extensively about the loss of memories, souls, brain anatomy, memory formation, and a fascinating and debilitating disease called Alzheimer's. During our discussion about souls, I found myself drawing more towards Plato's idea that the soul does not die, even if the body perishes. The idea of the immortal soul is especially comforting to me, as like I mentioned in my first blog post, I lost one of my best friends earlier this year to suicide. It's difficult, especially realizing that I vaguely remember the happy memories we shared, but more clear to me is the traumatic week in which I learned that she had taken her own life. Even though I'd prefer not to remember losing her, the memories seem to stick. She was so so excited that a "w
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In Class: Post 1

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"Drawing from (quoting) a passage from Schacter and Milton (or Borges), what connection can you make between loss and memory, or loss and emotion?" Page 15, The Immortal: "Death (or reference to death) makes men precious and pathetic; their ghostiness is touching; any act they perform may be their last." Schacter writes about how memories persist when the circumstances surrounding the memory formation are highly charged with emotion. He also writes about how suicide survivors (people who have lost others to suicide) often have repetitive "what could I have done" moments...which is completely true. My beautiful wonderful close friend, Annie Lynn Wang, took her own life on early morning Friday, on May 18th,  on what was essentially May 17th. I had seen her the day before - we had laid on her bed and laughed and talked about her classes and just enjoyed each others company Wednesday night. When I lost her, stepping into her hall was difficult. I could
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