Details like refraction

I’m considering renewal, brutality, isolation, legacies of shame and hierarchy.

It’s been almost a whole cycle since the new moon - long night - solstice - beginning ceremony I celebrated. And two weeks have passed since Greg’s Day 0 for 2026, if you prefer the colonial calendar style.

One more to go - 설날. It’s in a month and 3 days.

I’m finally easing into accepting change in my physical being in a way that has felt elusive and ironically insubstantial for most of my life. I started running (today) and my legs feel jiggly. My body is a little shaken up from the impact and the gait.

I’m at Jungle Book cafe. The aesthetics are on point. the tea and tart were also delectable.

Brutality has been broadcast so broadly. As we know, ICE has been granted power. But each agency, platoon, office, choice—-is associated with a human being. It’s confounding but also gives shape to our resistance. We will not be reduced to numbers. I refuse. I will not be erased. And my friends who are multiply marginalized as well will survive and thrive.

We have the numbers.

Isolation is thought to be cold, whereas the protestors in the streets last year for Yoon’s impeachment were 1 million strong and fighting. The soup, the restaurants pre-ordered by supporters, the sharing - it was of course.

This is what we rely on - the fire that rallies people.

I am in a warm cube, high up, witnessing the city sleep and wake every day, seeing the moon rise, a barer sliver nightly, and the mountain-top twinkles of the army facility.

It is this temperature-controlled habitat that I occupy in my solitude. it’s becoming closer to clues I can decipher.

The bewilderment, the guilt, the terror, the dread. this might be called social anxiety? But actually I think it’s about the language barrier, the shame of not being able to communicate basic niceties or requests in public.

As soon as I don’t understand, my chance is gone. why not?

I have to try.

but actually. I don’t. i have a choice. is this empowering? or is it privilege?

Or both? how do I grapple with being able, capable, skilled, free, and not obedient?

Is it the same boundaries that separate me from the psychic pain of my parents’ rejection that allow me to stand up more to the master’s system (as the education literature would deem it)?

I started my photo-broidery project. It began with searching photographs. So many were ambiguous and also unfiltered…the land before selfies.

So now, I’ll listen to stories next month and share what I can with who wants to hear.