El árbol, de pie / expulsa fantasmas.
The tree, on its feet / ejects ghosts.
Making art during a pandemic also clarifies your work, in the way that uncertainty strips away the unnecessary so you can focus on the essential.
The author of the graphic novel The Waiting on family separation and the Korean War
“I think if we can hear from each other that being a model minority is not the only way to have value, and that being the good child is not the only way to be a good person, what might that unlock?”
“What people say about the patriarchy hurting men is true. Men benefit from it, but it also hurts them.”
“I wanted to turn to actual living language—and reveal, through poetry, the contradictions or erasures or sometimes comic possibilities imposed by different texts.”
While I was doing witness work around violence, I was also always living in a shadow space where I could be safer, where I could be protected, where I was known, where I could not be misread
Atrocities happen all too often in real life, so it’s my hope that people can be less hurt while reading my novels.
Life is getting sick and dying. Life is suffering. And that’s ok.
An interview with the Virginia Poet Laureate on poetry as witness, colonial history’s hauntings, and her longstanding poem-a-day practice
“Show up and that’s enough, and you can leave all this neurosis behind.”
“One day, very soon, this silence is going to be so deadly and people will not be able to carry its weight anymore.”
Looking back at 9/11 and the Fall 2011 issue of the Asian American Literary Review
“I feel like my writing is always either at a micro-cellular level or a drone level. There’s this constant cycle between being way too close and things feeling surreal, or pulled way out and things also feeling a little surreal.”
“What debts—monetary, emotional, filial—did my parents have that I’ve inherited?”
The stories in this folio piece together alternate, speculative histories that reflect distinctly queer modes of life: often without a clear resolution, a “moral,” or a sense of “straight” logic
“It feels like you have crossed a river you cannot cross back again”
On Yuri Kochiyama’s 100th birthday, her granddaughter Akemi Kochiyama reflects on her radical anti-imperialist, anti-racist, and internationalist politic and praxis
“The narrative that is built around a particular moment eventually buries the moment itself.”
“Together we are as mighty as our ancestors up from the dead.”
Making art during a pandemic also clarifies your work, in the way that uncertainty strips away the unnecessary so you can focus on the essential.
“Show up and that’s enough, and you can leave all this neurosis behind.”
The author of the graphic novel The Waiting on family separation and the Korean War
“One day, very soon, this silence is going to be so deadly and people will not be able to carry its weight anymore.”
Looking back at 9/11 and the Fall 2011 issue of the Asian American Literary Review
“I think if we can hear from each other that being a model minority is not the only way to have value, and that being the good child is not the only way to be a good person, what might that unlock?”
“I feel like my writing is always either at a micro-cellular level or a drone level. There’s this constant cycle between being way too close and things feeling surreal, or pulled way out and things also feeling a little surreal.”
“What people say about the patriarchy hurting men is true. Men benefit from it, but it also hurts them.”
“What debts—monetary, emotional, filial—did my parents have that I’ve inherited?”
“I wanted to turn to actual living language—and reveal, through poetry, the contradictions or erasures or sometimes comic possibilities imposed by different texts.”
The stories in this folio piece together alternate, speculative histories that reflect distinctly queer modes of life: often without a clear resolution, a “moral,” or a sense of “straight” logic
While I was doing witness work around violence, I was also always living in a shadow space where I could be safer, where I could be protected, where I was known, where I could not be misread
“It feels like you have crossed a river you cannot cross back again”
Atrocities happen all too often in real life, so it’s my hope that people can be less hurt while reading my novels.
On Yuri Kochiyama’s 100th birthday, her granddaughter Akemi Kochiyama reflects on her radical anti-imperialist, anti-racist, and internationalist politic and praxis
Life is getting sick and dying. Life is suffering. And that’s ok.
“The narrative that is built around a particular moment eventually buries the moment itself.”
An interview with the Virginia Poet Laureate on poetry as witness, colonial history’s hauntings, and her longstanding poem-a-day practice
“Together we are as mighty as our ancestors up from the dead.”
