THIS IS OCEAN VUONG
(photo credits on right: John Crispin)
In Summer 2023, my family and I were in downtown Oakland, my mother's hometown, and we explored a bookstore. I didn't actively read books, so I wasn't expecting much. However, I was gravitated towards Ocean Vuong's On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous and the moment I read the first page, I was hooked.
In short, the main character, Little Dog, pours his heart out into a letter that his illiterate mother will never read. He talks of experiences and observations he made of his mother growing up and gives reason to every single one.
That tiny paragraph cannot do the novel justice, though. I highly recommend reading it fully because Vuong's writing gave me a comfort that I needed for so long. During the first few chapters, I was in tears in the backseat while my parents were clueless. It felt like the words on each page could see me because they explained emotions that I thought were unexplainable. I was in shock of what I was reading and to have realized that I shared a similar tale. There was a burning in my head and chest but a good one.
Even now, sometimes I will flip to a random page of the novel and read it. Every time, I feel that same burning that I felt the first time.
However, I always wondered how it felt writing the novel if I almost couldn't handle reading it.
And so, I decided to write my own letter to my mother, The Letter I Didn't Want You to See. Despite knowing that I had nowhere near the amount of writing capabilities as Vuong, it felt great to be fully honest with myself while confronting something that has made me feel uneasy my whole life.
A few months later, I held my first gallery, Hardin, which was about the tumultuous relationship between me and my mother. I displayed my letter, and quite a bit of people were touched by it.
It was nice to see a group of people were crying outside, nice to see that I made others feel seen, in a similar way that the novel did for me.
Vuong pushed the idea that to love is to understand and that these intense emotions are good. These feelings mean progress.
Now, I have made it a routine to write letters before starting art pieces for my galleries. I use that novel to find inspiration in whatever I create.
THIS IS MUNDO*
(right: photo I took at his music studio, left: us at prom)
MUNDO* and I became good friends in high school, which is something I am grateful for.
During this time, I knew I was a skilled drawer, but I felt that I had no purpose for it, let alone felt like I had a true emotional connection to it. I didn't have the passion yet.
While being mopey and hopeless, I was watching MUNDO* make music every day as if he was unstoppable.
That’s because he was unstoppable. And he still is.
Actually, all of us are. His drive taught me that the only thing that was stopping me from limitless creation was myself.
Since I was back in my hometown for winter break, we decided to catch up.
We talked in the car about what art means to us. As we opened up about the rhetoric we make in our work, we emphasized that they weren't necessarily meant to conclude that there was a solution, but rather they were explaining how we are still processing the trauma.
We talked about how our environment affects our work. After high school, we had both agreed that we felt more of a push for our artistic pursuits. Rather than only being friends with people within proximity, we have expanded our circle of friends and are now connected to so many other creatives within our area that motivate us.
We talked about a near death experience he had and how our lives are precious, urging the need to keep creating. He has taught me that we are born artists, and we will die artists. We must create for our livelihood and fulfillment to find reason or beauty.
MUNDO* and I don’t see each other as often since we are now living separate lives, but I will always hold the few conversations we have close to me. I feel like I grow a little bit more as an artist just by talking to him.
More coming soon!