5am street corners on little red plastic stools with dad and his childhood friend.
i miss these mornings, dearly.
aunt chau and uncle phuong’s,
where i spent summer 2007 scriptwriting in afternoon thunderstorms.
i was introduced to relatives i’ve never met, including uncle thanh, on the left.
who regaled me with war tales of when grandpa moved the entire family of a hundred into one home
to keep everyone safe and united.
(mom said this number was grossly exaggerated, but i’d like to believe him anyway.)
iPhone timelapse on tristyan’s motorbike.
nose, cheek pressed against his back, swerving through districts, perfectly intoxicated.
i had originally planned to add a lot more pictures with weeks of stories,
but ever since i met tristyan, my enthusiasm for blogging has waned
because i’ve been sharing my narratives with him.
but i will say, i see my parents about once a year
and every time i see them, they get a little bit more tranquil, a little bit more eccentric.
with this trip, i was reminded of how hilariously funny they are,
how sweet and affectionate they are to me, to each other.
and there was a sadness, a heartache, a longing to move back to california
when they saw me off at the airport.
currently listening to:
the recording is rubbish and the camera guy has the sniffles,
but i was so obsessed with his performance that i had this on repeat my entire trip back to saigon.