Photo Journal: Spring 2021

 

Clockwise from top left: spring in Boston (x2), pear poached in white wine and cardamom, welcoming the sun back to Boston (x2), Boston Public Garden at sunset.

Becoming a Hopeful Realist

"I define hope as distinct from optimism or idealism. It has nothing to do with wishing. It references reality at every turn and reveres truth. It lives open eyed and whole heartedly with the darkness that is woven ineluctably into the light of life and seems to overcome it. Hope, like every virtue, is a choice that becomes a habit that becomes spiritual memory. 

It's a renewable resource for moving through life as it is, not as we wish it to be." 
Krista Tippett

"If you numb the hard things, you're also numbing the chance to feel all the expansion and the growth and the beauty."
Ruthie Lindsay

Masks can't hide our pained eyes when a newborn is intubated for a rare, unfortunate infection that leaves their brain barely functioning. Lab coats don't shield our hearts when a patient is admitted, in the next room, after an attempted suicide. 

I've learned that working in a hospital requires not only the brains to provide the highest quality treatment, but also the lungs to breathe life-giving words to hurting people, the backbone to bear the reality of life’s fragility, and the heart to stay, serve, and relentlessly pursue the mission of leaving others better than when you found them. 

iPhone Photo Journal: Winter 2021

A season that challenged me to grow stronger and softer. 

Chocolate Olive Oil Cupcakes with a Secret 2-Ingredient Frosting

 

There are more reasons to eat cake than you'd think.

Reforming Visual Culture: The Ethics of Hunger Photography

Images from: Food for Thought Project (Jerry Dietz, Cornbread for Kids)

I was eleven when I opened my first email account. Among messages from friends about middle school politics, chain emails with photos of emaciated children stand out in my memory. There was one - a small, thin child lying head down on the ground, a few feet away from a vulture - that came to mind every time I wanted to leave my plate unfinished or turned my noise up at dinner.

Such photos leave deep impressions, but they are no longer novel to our visual culture – in fact, they have become quite familiar. Whether published to shame Western gluttony or tug heartstrings and pockets for financial support, most hunger photography has contributed to a dominant visual narrative of protruding ribs and distended bellies, allowing circumstantial poverty to define the subjects. Images can certainly help to improve the food insecurity landscape by eliciting emotion and inspiring action. However, their net impact depends on the ethical grounds by which they were produced and published. Some have reiterated oppressive structures and “othering” (Figure 1) while others have advanced individual agency and civic engagement (Figures 2 and 3).

Becoming Human

My medicine cabinet once held reruns of Friends, quizzes predicting where I'll run away to next, a mud-soaked pair of sneakers, a scale, a packed agenda I didn't care about, a bottle of melatonin, and lavender essential oil. 

Today, what's left are a book and a journal. Everything else has been stripped away. 

...

I've been wringing out the remainder of my strength after twelve hour days on my knees, silent tears soaking my pillow. 

It's the gut wrenching stories, not the guts, that keep me tossing and turning all night long. Some of them trigger haunting memories. Others can't be shaken because of how unimaginable they are. The fragility within the intensive care units keeps us on our toes. So much can happen at any second. There's nothing a hospital doesn't see, yet there's only so much medicine can do.

Autumn Portraits: The Aycarts

Visiting Arnold Arboretum is a must during the fall, whether you're in need of a study break or looking to take some portraits. Trouble is, it's everyone's go-to spot, and the Aycarts and I spent a good 45 minutes or so circling the area for parking. As with anything, there's always a silver lining, and for me, that was extra time spent with these sweet friends and their adorable little ones.

Autumn Portraits: The Changs

I'm fairly certain my spiritual mentor found out which dietetic internship I matched to before my mom found out! 

I received the news myself the minute I stepped back into my home upon returning to campus from spring break. Joyce messaged me some words of peace and encouragement to settle my heart as I sat on the bus, and after hauling my duffel to my room, I sent a "I found out..." text. "Well?!?!" 

Our early evening gathering that week was full of conversations about what the next two years would bring. Having spent time in Boston herself, Joyce didn't hesitate to make sure I'd be taken care of. She called up her husband, who was jetlagged from their recent trip to Uganda - we may have even woken him up from a "forbidden" catnap - and the first reference that spilled from his sleepy mouth was, "Oh, Tim!"

Postcards from Boston: Autumn 2020

Wishing you were here... for so many reasons!

Banana Bread

 

Thursday afternoon, my mom sent me the following message: "Where's your banana bread recipe? I can't find it on your blog." 

This tickled me in two ways - 1) my mom - who did not grow up baking - wanted to bake in the middle of a busy work season, and 2) my mom considers this sporadically maintained blog a recipe box! 

Autumn Portraits: Meet the Robinsons

Meet the Robinsons: No need to travel to the future to experience love so other-worldly. The hallways of your heart may be dark and full of cracks, but they're on a mission to fill every crevice, nook, and cranny, one spoonful of love and cake at a time.

Olive Oil Cake with Figs

Inspired by a recent trip to Barcelona Wine Bar with my mom - it's been a good year or so since my imagination was tickled after eating food away from home!

Webster Woods

 

July 4, 2020

The woods are where the living, the breathing, and the wild tower over my head. As I wander, the day’s soft light spills across sturdy bark spines made resilient with age. The branches whisper “peace, be still;” they are rooted to the tree on restoration’s path. In this sacred space, I reconnect with the quiet spirits of curiosity and wonder. I feel them, in my bones, reawakened and renewed with energy. These trees, so full of life, impart much life to me

Sunday Dialogues: August

Augusts are highly anticipated, full of changes to come and memories to be made. 

Five Augusts ago, with a plane ticket to Atlanta in hand, I hugged my brother with tears streaming down both our faces. We'd always been two peas in a pod, so close that when traveling, we'd take advantage of our anonymity and pretend we were twins, so mischievous that relatives would mistake us for one another over the phone. We had never lived apart from one another, and 2015 marked the first of many transition-filled Augusts to come. 

Year after year, August wrapped up summer jobs and internships, bookmarked church friendships, opened the door to a new address and a new community. August brought on the friction caused by the desire to be on your best behavior rubbing against the struggle to muster up grace when you're sweating and hauling heavy crates of books up another disappointing set of creaky stairs. It often ended with more emotional pivots, the bittersweet exchange of "be good, okay?", and afterwards, the first lonely night, unpacking with music to fill the silence, wondering if this academic year, things would be different. 

100 Days: Princeton

Why, suddenly, even the familiar is capable of masking itself as unfamiliar.

100 Days: Quarantined with the Cais

Snippets from the moments in between. March - June, 2020. 

100 Days: Evening Walks

Most nights after dinner, no matter how wonderful or heated our mealtime discussions were, Mom and I found ourselves wandering around our neighborhood, gathering landscaping inspiration, admiring dogs, waving to neighbors we didn't know. We'd try to alternate routes or discover new ones, but our feet typically traced the footsteps of nights before. 

100 Days: Institute Woods

Few places provide me the same peace, comfort, and quiet as the woods. There, the only sounds are leaves rustling, birds calling to one another, and the soft thump of my sneakers sinking into early spring dirt. I look up and around at the canopy that towers high above my head. Stooping down, there's a microcosm of insects that catch my eye, scurrying busily, perhaps unaware I'm watching. 

When I began to live and work in other places, I realized I craved the rich greenery I grew up with. Looking out the windows on my train rides home after a long day in the city, I'd feel my mind slow its pace as I watched the scenery shift from a grey, concrete jungle to forests, alive and breathing. 

Hello from Hungary: An Evening on the Danube

When the heat of the day has shifted to a cool breeze, it's time to trade your adventurer's sneakers for a glass of champagne and a seat on a river cruise.  

Hello from Hungary: Day Trip to Szentendre

Tin-Lok and Zsuzsanna, our expert (and beloved) guides, made the trek from their home into Budapest to take us to Szentendre by train - after a breakfast of raspberry pie from McDonald's. We're so grateful for our friends' generous time and gracious hospitality. Through them, we were able to taste, literally and figuratively, more of Hungary than we would have on our own.