Why?

     Sometimes I wonder what the point is. What is the point of art? Is it art for art's sake? Is there a reason that art exists? What defines art? I think the definition of 'art' is subjective. What one person sees as art could be just some paint thrown on a canvas to another person. How does someone say, "This is art." Or, conversely, say "This isn't art." To the artist, it is his or her soul on paper. So, what gives another person the right to say it is merely a farce? I look at my own art and wonder if every person that has told me that I'm just some girl with a camera and it's all a joke is right. But then I realize that it doesn't matter what they say. If it's what I love, then why would I give up on it because someone else laughed at me? All I can do is learn more about my craft and make it better.

Foreign Relations

     As I plan (and pack!) for my upcoming expedition to China, I have been thinking about my racial heritage. Being a Chinese adoptee living in America has never been unusual to me. I've always been aware of the fact that I was adopted, there was never an 'aha!' moment when I realized that I was different. However, I feel that I stand out the most when I'm actually *in* China. In a sea of one billion faces, you couldn't differentiate between me and the average Chinese girl. Perhaps I am the only one that can see the difference, but I am glaringly self-aware of my Western tendencies when I am in the People's Republic. It doesn't help that I'm always accompanied by a group of tourists that walk around with fanny-packs strapped around their waists. I feel torn between my American background and my Chinese heritage. This, perhaps, is why I am dreading this upcoming trip. I'm so excited to see my family, but at the same time I know that it will be another fiasco of sorts. Instead of visiting my family and getting to know them, it will probably be some "great experience" for the other members of our tourist group. I want to go to China and be immersed in the culture and soak up every thing that I can. I want to walk the streets without feeling like I'm on some trip to "see how other people live". These issues that international adoptees face are just added stress when trying to figure out everything else that is up in the air as a teenager.

Mother Dearest

    I have recently been thinking about my life as a mother, and I decided it was time to get my thoughts out in a somewhat organized manner. I want my children to be happy and healthy, so how does one achieve this in such a crazy world like ours? There are a few things that I hope my children are exposed to at a young age, so they can be happy, healthy, and productive citizens.
     1. Social Consciousness!
           I want my children to be aware of their blessings and to realize how many people in the world are not as fortunate as they are. In a world of materialism, we sometimes forget the many things that we have been given. We walk around with our iPhones and $5 cups of coffee, and we too often forget that these things are superfluous luxuries when children are living around trash cans in India. I hope that my children learn to give back to the world, and appreciate their lives.
     2. Healthy Eating!
          As my eyes have recently been opened to the amount of preservatives and unnatural chemicals that are in our food, I want my children to grow up without ingesting these unhealthy additives. I want to have my own garden, prepare healthy meals at home, and encourage my kids to choose water over soda. The epidemic of childhood obesity is a shame to America. We feed our children food that is stuffed with unhealthy and unnatural ingredients. I want my children to grow up eating healthily, so when they are teenagers or young adults, they don't have to suddenly realize that what they've been eating for the past decade or so could cause many diseases in the future.
     3. Questions!
           As a previous home-schooler, (once a home-schooler, always a home-schooler!), I can weigh the pros and cons of home based education versus public school. I have recently developed a taste for learning. I want to learn about the great minds of the years before us, about art, music, literature, anything that can satiate my thirst for knowledge. With my children, I hope to pass on this thirst for learning. I am content (even a little excited!) to educate my children. I think that home-schooling K-7 is a good idea for many reasons. I can give my kids a unique education that is not attainable in a current public school. While learning science and language arts, I hope to also educate my kids about all of the aforementioned topics that I am eager to learn about. By learning them at such an early age, they will be well prepared by the time the reach college-age. While their peers are struggling to differentiate between Nietzsche and Kafka, hopefully my kids will be able to discuss their ideas with a strong intellectual background. I hope that my family can learn together, the dinner table serving as an open floor of discussion.
     4. Love.
          It seems pretty basic. As a mother, my job is to take care of the family. However, I want to reach beyond the generalizations of a stay-at-home mom and really love my kids. I want to love them when they're screaming my name at the top of their lungs because so-and-so took their toy and won't give it back. I want to love them and help them when their heart is broken for the first time. I want to love them when they are discovering who they are as adults and need someone to guide them. I want to look at them and know that I have given every part of my heart to them. Whoever they turn out to be, I want to know that I have raised them in a loving home, and provided a model of what a home should be like.

     All of these ideals seem perfect when they're written on paper, but can I guarantee any of this will happen? Of course not. All I can do is pray, hope, and love everyone around me until my little monsters arrive.
     

Santorini.

     Laying beside you, I close my eyes and envision the future. A little family of our own, curled up in a "hipster lodge" made of blankets, lights, and lots of love. We make promises to treat our kids well, to love them no matter what. To let them be fat, or skinny, or whatever they are. Because children are beautiful no matter what size they are. I look at you, and tears sit quietly in the wings, waiting for their turn on the stage of my face. Happiness can't be measured in grams, ounces, or anything tangible. Happiness is falling asleep beside you and waking up when you kiss my forehead. Happiness is thinking about what our kids will look like, and how we think they'll turn out. Happiness is the scruffiness of your beard tickling my neck when you kiss my shoulder. I can't imagine a better kind of happiness. I dream of our little monsters, toddling around the kitchen, pulling on my long hippie skirt. Then all of a sudden, our little monsters are not so little anymore, and we eat dinner together and talk about Kafka and other various topics. All I can dream of is providing a loving and intellectually stimulating environment for these little monsters to grow up in. I can't imagine it with anyone else but you.

     An apartment of my own, nestled between busy buildings and crowded streets, this is heaven on earth. A quiet room, light by a string of Christmas lights. This is how everything should be. Mismatched tea cups will fill the cabinets and my grandmother's quilt draped over an old chair. The hard-wood floors are disguised by a furry rug underneath my favorite chair. My best friend asleep beside me, haphazardly strewn across our metal framed bed. A little dog sleeps on the floor beside me, the sound of his breathing perfectly complimenting the peaceful melody pouring from my speakers. I look across the room and see a cello laid to sleep underneath a piano, this is perfection. One moment, one glance, one apartment.

     I want to walk through a bustling night market, smell the fried dumplings being cooked in a giant wok and watch the children run to their mothers. I wish that I understood what my sisters were saying, I wish I could join in their conversations. I miss the things that I never had. I imagine the world that I am a part of, but I have never lived in. I am nostalgic for a past that I have never experienced. I want to feel the words of my native tongue slip freely from my mouth, flowing easily and without thought. I want to hear stories from my grandmothers, the ancient little women with as many stories as lines on their faces. I want to play with my little brother and watch him grow up. I miss the things that I've never had. I am silenced by my own alienation, unable to join in with the lives that my family leads, yet close enough to want to. A dynasty of history contained within one family, and I am a broken branch of the family tree.

The Beauty in the Brain

     After a year or two of internal conflict due to my inability to be decisive in regard to my future profession, I have finally settled on a profession that I am completely satisfied with. For years, I played with the idea of being a writer. I decided to take a creative writing class, which convinced me that I did NOT want to be a writer. Sure, I enjoyed the class, but the career was not for me. Next, came being a lawyer. This idea was my goal for quite a while until I realized that lawyers are generally quite boring people that have to deal with people and their greed day in and day out. That idea was shoved out along with writing. Next, came the dream of being a classical violinist. I refuse to even go in to this, but let's just say that I got out of that one as well. Then there was philosophy. What a wonderful dream it was, I do believe it was the one that I loved the most out of all the aforementioned careers. I was completely prepared to pursue my Ph.D and become a professor of philosophy at some renowned university. However, that dream came crashing down when I realized the limited amount of positions in the workforce for a philosophy major.

    I arrived at cognitive science by accident, to be honest. I was browsing the majors offered by a few Ivy League colleges (and that is another dream in itself!) and I stumbled upon cognitive science. I am looking for a career that has an ever-expanding hiring rate, and includes the fields that I have interest in. I am pleased to say that cognitive science has all of this. With a degree in cogsci, I can become a research analyst, or even lead research projects myself. I look forward to discovering new things about the brain in my studies. I love the thought of thought. It is an enigma to me, a beauty that can only be discovered with the help of science. Human thought is the result of a chemical process that is beautiful in itself.

In Search Of Truth

     In a search of all things good and true, one must face the inevitable question that seems paradoxical in context. What is truth? It seems paradoxical to me, for one can only reach this question while in search of its answer. For example, my recent religious and political research has led me to question some of the things that I had so avidly believed as a child. I still believe in God as my Savior, and I still believe certain things about the government, but I have come to define my religion and political beliefs in my own terms. However, it would be extremely vain of me to say that my political views are truth, merely based on the fact that they are mine. So, where does one find the absolute truth? This question has been posed countless times throughout the history of man and the answer is still as elusive as Big Foot himself.
     This question leads me to yet another, why does man insist on the truth, when he doesn't even know what that perceived truth is? Do humans have an innate tendency towards a specific 'truth'? Are we pre-programmed to believe certain things, or to act a certain way? To answer this, one must have knolwedge from God himself, and I do not pretend to have the answers. I'm merely allowing my thoughts to flow freely.
    

A Russian Romantic

"The characteristics of our romantic are to understand everything, to see everything and to see it incomparably more clearly than the most positive of our thinkers; to refuse to take anyone or anything for granted, but at the same time not to despise anything; to go round and round everything and to yield to everything out of policy; never to lose sight of the useful and the practical (rent-free quarters for civil servants, pensions of a sort, decorations)-and to discern this aim through all the enthusiasms and volumes of lyrical verses, and at the same time to preserve to his dying day a profound, and indestructible respect for "the sublime and the beautiful," and, incidentally, also to preserve himself like some precious jewel wrapt in cottonwool for the benefit, for instance, of the same "sublime and beautiful." Our romantic is a man of great breadth of vision and the most consummate rascal of all our rascals, I assure you-from experience. That, of course, is all true if our romantic is intelligent. Good Lord, what am I saying? The romantic is always intelligent." -"Notes from the Underground, Part II - Chapter 1." Written by Fyodor Dostoevsky

An Introduction of Sorts

As I was reading "Notes from the Underground" (Dostoevsky), it occured to me that perhaps I take "the beautiful and sublime" for granted. In my efforts to become a culturally well-rounded indvidual, I have embarked upon a personal journey of sorts. I want to experience the world and learn new things every day. Ideas are everywhere, they are the fabric of who we are as 'man'. I plan to explore the ideas of the past, present, and future, while learning about the world around me. So this blog will basically be a place for me to organize my thoughts, and keep links that I would like to remember. I really hope this doesn't become as cluttered as my desk is.

"A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty."
— Albert Einstein