Before I die - Art project

As I was stumbling around on the internet, I came across an artist named Candy Chang who after the death of her mother, created the Before I Die art installation. The project was simple; obtain a permit from the city, borrow a wall on an abandoned house, paint the topic at the top, and wait for the blanks to be filled in.

When Candy started this project it was probably just her way of expressing cathartic grief, but in 24 hours she would unite a community of strangers.

While I was reading the blanks along the wall, I couldn’t help but notice how simple some of them were. Before I Die, I want to: ”swim without holding my nose,” “plant a tree,” and “go to an LSU game,”…absolutely attainable goals.

But then there was one that really struck a chord with me. It read, Before I Die, I want to: “tell my mother that I love her.” I have a great relationship with my mom. We talk on the phone every other day and whenever we’re together it’s nothing but good food and lots of laughter. But until I was 12, I hadn’t ever told her that I loved her.

For me, it was a cultural obstacle, because Vietnamese parents never say it to their kids, it’s simply understood. But then one day, my mom was driving home from work when she was T-boned by a drunk driver who then sped off and hit a tree, killing himself. After tumbling 4 times across the freeway, my mom’s car landed upside down in the middle of the fast lane. I recall jerking awake in the middle of the night and wondering why my parents hadn’t come home yet; and then the phone rang. My grandmother was talking to my dad, but my Vietnamese wasn’t very good so I only caught a few vague words: hospital, surgery, us kids being asleep…enough to know that something bad had happened.

That accident was a game changer. What if my mom hadn’t made it that night? My childhood was rocked pretty hard that night because for the first time in my life I was forced to consider the fact that my parents weren’t going to be around forever.

To this day I’m not sure what possessed me to do it, but my 12-year-old self hopped on her hospital bed and boldly said, “I love you Mom,” to which she replied, “Remember that when I ask you to do the laundry.”

I believe it was Matt Damon’s character in We Bought a Zoo who said, “All you need is 20 seconds of insane courage, and I promise you, something great will come of it,” and he was right.  That was the one and only time I’ve ever said “I love you” to my mom, because as it turns out, cultural traditions don’t change in a single moment of impact. What it did do though, was open me up to the idea of love being expressed differently. My parents will never overtly tell me that they love me, but the sacrifices they’ve made on my behalf throughout my entire life, are proof of that love.

That stranger, whoever they are, filled in a blank with something that really resonated with me and looking at the ripple effect that the wall has had around the globe, I think it’s safe to say it has for others as well.

On a macro level, the bigger picture element with the art installation has to do with connecting a community of strangers. When something like this is dropped into a neighborhood, we get a glimpse into each other’s lives, thereby connecting with strangers in our neighborhood via common goals, fears, or desires. Even if we never actually meet our neighbors in person, it’s a great way to connect with others on a level deeper than the common “hello” as we pass them on the street.

Bryan Pickings said it best: “The notion of turning a neglected space into an active invitation to engage with your community and get to know your neighbors is a wonderful embodiment of enlightened urbanism.”

Before I die, I want to: “tell my mother that I love her,” was the line that resonated with me, but there are so many others to choose from. What makes this project powerful is the proximity from which the comments are derived. It’s the man sitting next to you at the bus stop, or the lady in the grocery store with the two kids–who also contributed to the wall– tugging at her jeans. Its impact is powerful because the connection is nearby, real, and honest.

Center: Before I die, I want to "tell my mother I love her"

Tree of Life

In the past few months the question of whether or not God exists has come up in many of my conversations. Then this morning when I woke up, the song “What If God Was One of Us,” by Joan Osborne was stuck in my head (I think I fell asleep watching The Voice).

I grew up not just any Catholic, but a Vietnamese Catholic, which might as well make me a Jehovah’s witnesses for all the rules and regulations (aka “sins”) that plagued my life. Needless to say, after college I turned away from the Church. It’s not that I stopped believing in God; I stopped believing in the institution. As did all of my friends who were not already atheist.

So when one of my best friends called me to say that though she wasn’t Christian she did believe that there was a God. I was shocked. Amy had always been an atheist and all of a sudden she became a Deist. She couldn’t explain to me what exactly happened to make her believe, except to say that certain events took place in her life in such perfect order that she knew it had to be divine intervention.

On the flip side of that conversation, another friend of mine was having the opposite experience. He had had a rough upbringing and at a time in his life where everything kept falling apart, he went to see a professor of theology. This professor obtained his degree while in seminary school, but like a lot highly educated people, found it hard to believe in the Christian God. The world was too cruel a place; bad things happened to good people and fortune fell upon the bad. There was no balance. What my friend came away with from that conversation, I found to be really profound: There is no god. And because there is no god, we as people, need to take care of each other.

The idea was so simple it was revolutionary; like Apple. Basic, streamlined and made complete sense.

What if God was one of us?

Just a slob like one of us

Just a stranger on the bus

Trying to make his way home

Joan Osborne’s song took on new meaning for me, because although it’s a Christian song, likely dedicated to the idea of believing in God, I found something different. Maybe the acknowledgment of the existence of God was irrelevant.

Charles Darwin once said, “In my most extreme fluctuations I have never been an atheist in the sense of denying the existence of God.” (The term agnostic had not yet been coined). For those who believe, God provides support and moral guidelines and for those who don’t we have a moral obligation to help support one another.

Life is as much about the things we do and see as it is about what we believe. But belief’s are supposed to make us better people–not worse. I don’t have the answer to which religion is better or what people should believe in because that’s the thing about faith; it’s based on intuition, which is an individualistic trait. What I do know, is that the individual belief doesn’t need to make up the whole.

As a devout Catholic turned fallen Catholic: I, like Darwin find it hard to deny the existence of God, but I do feel that in the event there is no God, we need to look out for one another.  I wrote an article a while back for TinyBuddha called the Benefits of Kindness, which I think goes hand in hand with my argument here. Be kind to those around you because you never know when you’ll need a stranger to be kind to you.

Revival Dog

It’s been a long time since I’ve done a food post because it’s taken me a while to get situated in the food culture of Houston, but alas I have found it!

Situated in the heart of the Heights neighborhood is the Revival Market. This local gem caters to the food lovers sensibility with high quality hot dogs, sandwiches, and homemade desserts. The decor, vibe, and pricing are similar to something you’d find at the Farmer’s Market in San Francisco.

Here are some really great things to try:

1. Revival Dog – It’s everything you’d expect from a $9 hot dog. Juicy meat situated in a soft pretzel bun and topped with seeded mustard and pork rhines. This is the creme de la creme of hot dogs. Get the potato salad on the side, I promise you won’t regret it.

2. Pulled pork sandwich – Well cooked (juicey) pulled pork on lightly toasted ciabattta bread and seasoned with a yellow curry paste. This is a really good light option if the dog seems too heavy. The thai influenced cole slaw makes for a perfect side.

3. Handmade Oreo cookie – These sell out fast so get there early. It’s a large cookie that looks and feels heavy, but it’s surprisingly light.

4. Coffee – I bought a bag of the coffee beans from Brazil and as a lover of coffee it was the greatest investment into having a good morning I’ve ever made. Smooth rich beans without that smokey charred taste that I hate.

Lastly, I advise that you take some time to roam the store. The Revival Market has a lot of really interesting things to purchase like: jams, rabbit and duck pate, gourmet cheeses, freeze packed dinners etc.

The market is pretty small and parking can be a problem so be prepared to parallel park down the street and bump elbows with strangers inside, but the friendly staff and low key atmosphere more than make up for the inconvenience.

On a nice day, they have seating outside and it’s a great place to catch up with an old friend while soaking in some Vitamin D.

Duncan Sheik "For You" (Jamie Myerson Mix)

When I was 14 I created my first e-mail account and a few years later when signature line’s became popular, mine included this quote, “Music is like diamond sky after frantic dreaming.” Over a decade has passed and only a few days ago did I really discover how to define the phrase. The quote came about through a chance encounter with words – magnetic words. A friend of mine had just broken up with her fiancé and as we sat on her dorm room floor drinking bottles of 2 buck chuck (Trader’s Joe’s) I started playing with the words on her mini fridge. I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was doing because I was pretty engrossed in the conversation, so it’s amazing that the phrase has stayed with me this long.

It’s no secret that music is powerful. A really good friend of mine told me once that on a random occasion while listening to the radio, Adele’s song “Someone Like You” came on and for no explainable reason she burst into tears. My friend was/is madly in love with her boyfriend, so why this intense reaction to a situation that wasn’t her own?  I guess for the same reasons we cry like babies when we watch sad movies. Our lives are complicated and speckled with sorrowful memories that make situations in music and movies relatable to us.

I had heard somewhere that maybe the pain of losing someone doesn’t ever go away – we just learn to live with it. And if that’s true, than the right lyrics coupled with a heartbreaking ballad is a lethal combination. I mean who hasn’t ever experienced heartbreak?

Artists sing about things that they’re passionate about and nothing is more personal and universal than the subject of love. When in love songs like: “Hero,” “Chasing Cars,” “In My Life,” and “Glitter in the Air” seem to litter the airwaves. Conversely, when suffering the turmoil’s of a break-up: “Cry Me a River,” “Before He Cheats,” and “Love The Way You Lie” find their way onto our playlists. The irony is that there is a song for every emotion but there aren’t enough definitive emotions to describe the impact a single song can have.

Recently I was listening to Pandora, which I often do while writing and a song popped up titled, “For You” (Jamie Myerson Mix). Now, I’m not a narcisstic person but when my name pops up in a song I tend to listen just a little closer. Here are the lyrics:

For you I wanna sing a happier song

For you I wanna try to right all my wrongs

For you I’m gonna break my bad habits

There’s a golden ring and I want you to have it…

My last name is not Myerson; until this song I had never heard of Duncan Sheik, and there is no particular male of significance in my life. But just listening to him serenade this girl (who has an awesome first name) made me stupidly happy. You know that scene in 500 Days of Summer, where Tom has just spent the night with Summer and is having a Mary Poppin’s moment along the walkway? It honestly felt similar to that.

The same way that my friend couldn’t really explain her reaction to the Adele song, I couldn’t explain my attachment to Duncan Sheik’s song about a girl named Jamie. But as someone who knows what it’s like to feel helplessly alone I really appreciated the connection I felt to the chance encounter with his song.

So the quote, “Music is like a diamond sky after frantic dreaming,” came full circle. If stars are the universe and the endless possibilities for whatever outcome we’re looking for in life, be it love, career or friendships lie within them; than musical notes connect the dots that make up our journey through life. Songs are like tent-poles, marking eras of significance that we’re reminded of when they randomly appear again.

When TinyBuddha was called upon by Oprah, she compiled a list of 60 Life lessons: Insights from Oprah’s Life Class (the article can be found here: TinyBuddha) my article was referenced in Lesson #51. This article also happens to be my most popular in that every few weeks I get an e-mail from someone around the world thanking me for inspiring them, so I wanted to archive it here as well.

“Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future.” -Paul Boese

I had been heart-broken far longer than I think anyone should ever be.  When my relationship ended, like a rock star, I blazed through the “mourning period” and bypassed the “become a new person” phase, then promptly got completely lost. I kept busy; went out with friends, watched movies, learned to cook, invested in retail therapy, etc. but I never actually let go. I felt it was impossible to move on. It had been three years (two years too long).

At my worst, I’d remember moments with vivid intensity. Real moments like the way my arm felt draped across his chest at night and imaginary ones of an alternate reality where we were still together. Truly believing that my happiness was intertwined in that relationship I was certain he would come back. To pass the time I dated casually, but no one measured up and even the ones who did, were chased away by the shadow of someone who could do no wrong.

I looked for fulfillment in other areas of my life. My love of the outdoors led me to a 42km (25 mile) hike along the Inca Trail, where I touched a piece of history at Machu Picchu. And the traveling didn’t stop there. I ran around the world to: China, Cambodia, Thailand, Vietnam, England, France, Bonaire, and Jamaica; trading my savings account for experiences that I hoped would fill a void (the size of which I had severely underestimated). My friends were jealous, because on Facebook I looked like I had conquered the world, or at the very least seen most of it (I’ve actually only seen 4%, but whose counting?). I had collected a façade of the perfect life. I ate delicious food, met wonderfully interesting people, and roamed around soaking in the beauty of the world.

But I was alone. Sure, there was a part of me that embraced the “Eat, Pray, Love” adventure and I knew that had I not been heart-broken I would still be at my boring 9-5 job (of course I’d also be generating income) but it was hard to experience the new and have no one to marvel at it with. I happened to be in China during the Lotus festival and one night while sitting on my hotel rooftop, the sky lit up with thousands of floating lanterns – a perfect unexpected moment. The couple next to me hugged each other a little tighter and for moment I felt a pang of jealousy knowing that one day she would say “Remember when we were sitting by the pool in China and the sky lit up with lanterns?” and he would. I spent a lot of time flip flopping between vengeful thoughts of, “If he hadn’t left me he would’ve witnessed the magic I just did,” to wishing that he and I were the very couple sitting beside me.

There is a scene in “Eat, Pray, Love” the movie, where James Franco’s character is on the phone with Julia Roberts and she asks him what took so long, to which he says, “If I didn’t call, then we were still having a conversation and this wasn’t over.” Like James Franco, I wasn’t ready to admit that the relationship was over. I wasn’t ready to forgive him for hurting me. Moreover I wasn’t ready for the gut wrenching pain that comes with the end of a relationship.

For three years time stood still. I had failed to see that the pure and simple love, which we once had, had dissipated long ago; my mind was tricky that way, only remembering the love. All I have ever wanted was to be happy, and yet for 3 years I stood in my own way, by not letting go. Once I forgave him for walking away and allowed myself to be human I was able to let my guard down and truly enjoy the company of someone new. I have yet to fall in love again, but for first time in years it’s not out of my realm of possibility.