Starting Over.

This week's Equals Record post is about new beginnings. As I've written before, this year has been a challenging one thus far. I'd even go so far as to say it's been a bit of a mess. So a couple of weeks ago, a group of friends and I thought, why not start over?

An excerpt from the post: "‘Bad news,’ wrote my friend Natalie in a g-chat a couple of weeks ago. ‘Mercury isn’t even in retrograde yet.’ We’d had a conversation the day before about the challenges, the kinks and quirks, the general weirdness of the year thus far. We’d speculated that there must be some sort of cosmic explanation for all of it. Apparently, we were wrong. ‘What does this mean for us?’ I asked. ‘Shit hits the fan February 23rd,’ she replied. ‘Maybe I’ll hibernate,’ I wrote back."

Read the post in full, here. My Looking Forward archive (featuring posts about the ups and downs of "growing up" in my twenties) can be found here. 

And a bit of bittersweet news to share: this week's post will be my last on the Equals Record. I'll continue to write about similar themes on Sho & Tell on a regular basis - and will also be instituting other changes, both big and small, on my own site in the coming weeks - so stay tuned. Many thanks to Miya and Elisabeth for the incredible opportunity to write for such a beautiful site, and a big thank you to you, too, for your support, friendship, and kind words along the way. It's been a wonderful journey. Looking forward to what's next...

Top left photograph by Danni of Oh, Hello Friend. Top right unknown (please share if you know the photographer). Bottom image via Not All Who Wander Are Lost.

Truths.

This week on the Equals Record: things I believed as a child that I now know aren't true. It's one of the sadder posts I've written thus far, but sadness, I've learned, often opens doors to understanding.

An excerpt from the post: "When I was little, I thought hiccups could be captured in a tiny invisible box. I believed that if I thought hard enough—imagined myself sitting on the box, and nailing it shut, and applying a layer of glue, and locking it tight—they could be smothered, extinguished, conquered. I also believed that the food on my plate had feelings, and would be hurt if I didn’t eat it. And that somewhere in the world, dinosaurs still existed. And that one day, I might grow up to be a mermaid."

Read the rest, here. You can find the archive for my weekly column, Looking Forward (about the ups and downs of "growing up" in my twenties), here. Thanks so much for your support!

Bottom image via I Am Glad To Be Your Nightmare.

Movement.

This week on the Equals Record: learning to dance, learning to let go.

A snippet from the new post: "We sat in a circle on the first day of ballet class, thirty-or-so adults on the floor. Our teacher was a lovely woman with the sort of soothing presence you’d hope for in an introductory-level dance class meant for grown-ups, and she’d asked each of us to share three things with the group: our name, our level of dance experience, and whether we had any injuries to report. ‘My name is Shoko,’ I said when it was my turn. ‘I was probably in kindergarten the last time I took a dance class. And my body feels fine.’ Next to me sat a man who must have been in his mid-sixties. He had an angular face, a friendly smile, hair that glinted silver. He introduced himself, telling us he was the proud father of two dancers, now grown. ‘Any aches and pains?’ the teacher asked. The man smiled. ‘I’ve lived a colorful life.’"

Find rest of the post on the Equals Record, here. You can also check out the archive for my weekly column, Looking Forward (about the ups and downs of "growing up" in my twenties), here. Thank you so much for your support and kind words each week - I appreciate it more than you know!

Top photo via New York Public Library. Bottom image by Stoic Mike. (Thank you so much, Maya!)

Tiny Earthquakes.

This week on the Equals Record: anticipating traumatic experiences before they happen - and going for it anyway. (Case in point: my trip to Cambodia. That's me pictured below, on a visit to Kampot with my roommate.)

As always, an excerpt from the post: "There were earthquakes in Tokyo the night before I left for Cambodia. It was the summer after I’d graduated college and I planned to spend a month overseas, teaching English to a small group of children at an orphanage in Phnom Penh. My family accompanied me half of the way there, vacationing at my grandparents’ house in Tokyo for a few days before my departure. We shopped, ate at our favorite noodle shops, strolled the city streets. At night, I slept in my uncle’s childhood bedroom, on a soft mat laden with blankets. I slept soundly there, in a house I knew well from many visits to Japan. It was quiet—very still, even in the middle of the city. But on that night, after everyone else had gone to bed, I lay awake, palms pressed to the ground. It was shaking. Always a bit superstitious, I spent the better part of that night, eyes closed but unable to sleep, counting tiny, nearly imperceptible earthquakes. I was afraid. The next morning, I boarded the plane."

See the post in full, here. You can find the archive for my weekly column, Looking Forward (about the ups and downs of "growing up" in my twenties), here. Thank you so much for reading!

Bottom image via Cubicle Refugee. (If you know the original source, please share!)

Lost & Found.

This week on the Equals Record: getting lost, and finding home.

A bit from the new post: "When I first moved to New York City five years ago, I lived in a tiny apartment in Morningside Heights, in a bedroom with a single window that looked out onto a brick wall. Because I craved sunlight (a luxury I’d always taken for granted), and because my work-from-home schedule allowed me a certain degree of freedom, I spent most of my days and nights with my then-boyfriend, Ben, at his Columbia University apartment three blocks away. Ben was an exemplary tour guide. We went to jazz clubs in Harlem, used bookstores in the East Village, hole-in-the-wall restaurants in Queens. We spent long afternoons at MoMa, at ICP, in Central Park. A newcomer to the city, I was happy to let him lead the way. Literally. At six-foot-five, Ben was an imposing figure. More than that, he was excellent company. And he seemed to know the city inside and out. All I had to do was follow."

Read the rest, here. You can find the archive for my weekly column, Looking Forward (about the ups and downs of "growing up" in my twenties), here. Thank you, as always, for your kind words and support.

Bottom artwork by Heather Gonsior. 

Storytellers.

This week on the Equals Record: wondering, as a writer, what it takes to become a good storyteller.

An excerpt from the new post: "In the tenth grade, I wrote a short story for my English class that was told from the point of view of a man on death row. The same year, I wrote another piece from the perspective of a little boy who heard voices. I followed that with yet another, about an inner city teenager who’d been kicked out of school. (Clearly, at fifteen, I was interested in exploring the darker side of the human experience.) I received good marks on these stories at the time; still, they’re pieces that embarrass me now—full of vague details and street slang I didn’t know how to use. These were stories I didn’t know how to tell. Today, as a writer, I still doubt my story-telling abilities. Essays, I can handle. Interviews are no problem. But a story is a different animal."

See the post in its entirety on the Equals Record, here. The archive for my weekly column, Looking Forward (about the ups and downs of "growing up" in my twenties), can be found here. Thank you so much for reading!

Top images by Lou Mora. Bottom image via The Little Mermaid. (Quote from Barabara Kingsolver's The Poisonwood Bible. Thanks, Megan.)

Growth.

This week on the Equals Record: revisiting the wonders of childhood, in a most unexpected way. 

As always, a short excerpt from the new post: "When I moved to New York in 2009, [my niece] Calla turned one. As her aunt, babysitter, and—as my sister-in-law once kindly referred to me—her real-life fairy godmother, I’ve had the pleasure and privilege of witnessing the numberless spectacular and bewildering transformations that occur in the first few years of life. 'Can you imagine one day we’ll have a real conversation with her?' I remember asking my brother. Today, three years later, we not only have conversations, but discussions. The baby who once did little more than babble can now ride a scooter, sit through chapter books, make correct use of the word confidant, and identify several obscure varieties of pasta. (Anyone familiar with strozzapreti? She is.)"

Read the rest on the Equals Record, here. The archive for my weekly column, Looking Forward (about the ups and downs of "growing up" in my twenties), can be found here. Thank you so much for your support and encouragement!

Top photo by Max Wanger. Bottom photo: unknown.

Solitude.

This week on the Equals Record, thoughts on learning to appreciate solitude. 

An excerpt from the new post: "I ended my trip [to New Zealand] on Great Barrier Island, where I washed dishes at a local fishing lodge in exchange for a bed and free meals, many of which happened to include lobster…One morning before I left, the lodge owners allowed me to take their station wagon to the beach (a terrifying experience, as I’d had no prior experience driving on the left-hand side of the road). When I finally arrived, nauseous and a little shaky, I found the sands deserted, with not a single other beachgoer in sight. And so I spent that afternoon alone, with a book and a sandwich and a sweater to guard against the wind. I might, at one time, have found this solitude frightening. But on that day I felt adventurous. Like a daring traveler. A wanderer. A pioneer."

See the full post on the Equals Record, here. You can find past entries from my weekly column, Looking Forward (about the ups and downs of "growing up" in my twenties), here. Thank you for reading, and for your support, as always!

Gifts.

This week on the Equals Record: before the holidays, thoughts on what matters most in a gift.

An excerpt from the latest post: "I spent the first seven years of my life in Los Angeles, in a little gray house on a tree-lined street called Cantaloupe Avenue. My memories of living there are hazy, dreamlike…there were rose bushes that lined our driveway (I’d rip the petals off and run them over with my bike, thinking that, surely, this was how perfume was made), and a mishmash of flora in the garden. Potted plants lined the front porch. One, my favorite, was a single pink flower in a tiny terracotta dish. Oddly enough, I remember this flower more vividly than most other physical details about that house, though its tenure on the porch couldn’t have lasted more than a couple of weeks. After having admired its impeccable posture, the elegant draping of its petals, and that irresistible rosy flush for what seemed like an eternity, I couldn’t help myself. I picked it."

Read the rest on the Equals Record, here. You can find past entries from my weekly column, Looking Forward (about the ups and downs of "growing up" in my twenties), here. Thank you so, so much for reading, as always.

Top photo from last year's tree-trimming party. Bottom image via Confetti Garden.

Girls.

This week on the Equals Record: a love letter to a few (of the many) special girls in my life.

A (teeny-tiny) excerpt from the new post:  "People say that when you find true love, you know. Though I’ve experienced this with the opposite sex before, the same phenomenon has occurred—delightfully, consistently, and much more often—in many of my friendships with girls, as well."

See the post in its entirety on the Equals Record, here. You can find past entries from my weekly column, Looking Forward (about the ups and downs of "growing up" in my twenties), here. Thank you for reading - your support is so very much appreciated.

Friendsgiving.

In this week's Equals Record post, reflections on "Friendsgiving." (Below, a few photos from the night - turns out, seating fourteen people in a New York City living room is no easy feat!)

As always, a short excerpt: "To accommodate our many guests, we placed an old desk—which normally holds turntables and a hodgepodge of vinyl records—at the end of our dining table (mismatched tablecloths covered the dings and scratches). A lack of proper silverware forced us to get creative, using spatulas as serving spoons, ladles as ice cream scoops. And the food. There were two stuffings. Six pies. Enough cranberry sauce to feed a football team. This is what happens, I learned, when a group of fourteen collaborates on dinner. It was the first Thanksgiving I’ve ever hosted (or co-hosted, as it were), and the first I’ve spent away from family. With our ever-fluctuating guest list, disorganized menu, and relative lack of space, I wondered beforehand whether the night would end up feeling like a real Thanksgiving."

Read the rest, here, and find the archive for my column, Looking Forward, here. Thank you so much for your support! Have a lovely Wednesday.

Giving Thanks.

This week on the Equals Record: giving thanks for the most challenging year of my life.  

As always, an excerpt from the new post: "There’s no elegant way to put what I’m about to say: for much of my life, things have more or less fallen into my lap. It’s almost embarrassing to admit, though I can certainly claim very little credit for the way things have happened in my life. My friends call it Shoko luck, and it’s something I’ve always been reluctant to acknowledge, for fear of completely jinxing it—whatever it is...'I’m just lucky, I guess,' has forever been my sheepish explanation. This year, though, things have been different."

See the post in its entirety on the Equals Record, here. 

I'll be taking Thanksgiving off from blogging (I'm hosting a "Friendsgiving" at my apartment this year!), but I couldn't leave without extending a huge, heartfelt thank you to all of you - many of whom I've never met - who have supported me and encouraged me and made me feel so welcomed in this community. I'm so lucky to know you. Wishing you all a very happy Thanksgiving.

PS: For New Yorkers - more ways to help those still hurting after Hurricane Sandy. 

Top image via Confetti Garden (please share if you know the photographer). Bottom image via dvs. 

Free.

This week on the Equals Record: lessons learned after vowing to my parents that I'd be the best teenager in the world (a promise I made on my thirteenth birthday).

An excerpt from the post: "I woke up that morning feeling weighted with purpose. You’re not a child anymore, I thought to myself as I lay between sheets printed with happy-faced clouds. ‘I’m going to be the best teenager in the world,’ I told my parents, hardly able to imagine that I’d ever succumb to the hormonal turbulence I’d heard was in store for me. And looking back, I made good on that promise—for the most part, anyway. While I may not have been the best teenager on the planet, I certainly must have been among the tamest. I (hardly) touched alcohol, and never laid a finger on a drug. I didn’t date til my senior year. I never uttered a swear word, and never once fought with my brother or my parents (people never believe that last one, but it’s true)."

See the post in its entirety on the Equals Record, here. You can find past entries from my weekly column, Looking Forward (about the ups and downs of "growing up" in my twenties), here. Thank you so much for your support!

Top photo by Max Wanger. Bottom image via KushAndWizdom.

Looking Back.

I'm sure many creative people would agree: looking back on work you did in the past can be painful - and painfully embarrassing. I often have a hard time reading things I wrote years, months, days, or even hours ago (my high school journals, described below, fall into this category without question). More on the notion of looking back, this week on the Equals Record. 

As always, an excerpt: "In high school, I filled two large, spiral-bound books with what I referred to as my thoughts on 'reality, rebellion, and rock ‘n’ roll.' I wrote extravagant, long-winded essays – all by hand, a feat I can hardly fathom now – on art, and music, and the meaning of life. I cataloged regrets, made lists of goals, and — because I was, in the end, a teenager — diligently made note of each and every movement made by the floppy-haired boy who sat behind me in math. (Taped to one page of the journal was a tiny balled-up clump of paper he threw in class one day, intending to hit the back of a friend’s head. It landed on my desk instead and I saved it, convinced its altered course was a sign.)"

Read the rest on the Equals Record, here. You can find past entries from my weekly column, Looking Forward (about the ups and downs of "growing up" in my twenties), here. Thank you so much for reading!

Bottom image via Boheme Extreme. If you know the original source, please share! 

And New Yorkers, if you're still looking for ways to help after Hurricane Sandy, click here. 

Traces.

This week on the Equals Record: thoughts on leaving pieces of ourselves behind in places we love (for me, one of those places is the purple house pictured below, where I lived the year before graduating college).

As always, a short excerpt: "I spent my last year of college living in the front room of a purple and yellow Victorian house not far from downtown Santa Cruz. Six of us lived upstairs, six or so more lived below. The house was old, rickety. It was terribly insulated (I remember laying in my bed one winter morning, almost in tears because I had to get out from under the covers). The bathtub didn’t drain properly and made strange, regurgitation sounds at random, often in the middle of the night. My bedroom had gray carpeting with bits of gum (not mine) stuck in its fibers. I loved that house."

Read the rest on the Equals Record, here. You can find past entries from my weekly column, Looking Forward (about the ups and downs of "growing up" in my twenties), here. Thank you so much for your support!

Bottom image via Pinterest. Please share if you know the original source - I'd love to give proper credit.

Survival Story.

This week on the Equals Record: remembering who I was before I learned there was such a thing as "cool."

An excerpt from the new post: "In kindergarten, I announced to my friends and family that I was 'a woman of destiny' who spoke two languages: English and 'cat.' (My teachers, at one point, had to separate me from my best friend for excluding others when speaking cat.) As my grade school education continued, my pastimes evolved - I taught myself to bake bread, filling our freezer with numberless misshapen loaves of rye. On weekends, I read the newspaper while eating radishes and raw onions. I wore mismatched socks. I wrote, illustrated, and performed a short story in which the starring character was a pair of underwear owned by an aging rock star named Steve...In short, I was a quirky child."

See the post in its entirety on the Equals Record, here. You can find past entries from my weekly column, Looking Forward (about the ups and downs of "growing up" in my twenties), here. Thank you so much for reading! 

Bottom image via This Isn't Happiness. If you know the original source, please share!

Neighborly.

This week on the Equals Record: how one night in a local barbershop - watching a boxing match, of all things - changed the way I think about my Brooklyn neighborhood, and made me love it even more than I already did.

An excerpt from the new post: "All my life, the cities I’ve lived in have felt like temporary homes. Growing up, my family moved back and forth between Los Angeles and Honolulu, and I knew that Santa Cruz, where I lived for four years in college, wasn’t a city I’d remain in after graduation. Now, though, for the first time, I’m beginning to get a sense of what it might feel like to be a part of a community. To settle in. To make a place my own. And I’m realizing I don’t just want to exist as part of my neighborhood—I want to know it. More importantly, I want to know the people I share it with—and not just the ones whose lives look like mine."

Read the rest on the Equals Record, here. You can find past entries from my weekly column, Looking Forward (all about the ups and downs of "growing up" in my twenties), here. Thanks so much for your support and kindness, as always.

Image: "Houses and Birds" by Judy Kaufmann.

Great Loves.

This week on the Equals Record: thoughts on what constitutes a great love - after all, not all passionate relationships are romantic. One of the greatest loves of my life? Rock and roll - l have the gentleman below to thank for that.

As always, an excerpt from my new post: "I saw The Rolling Stones live for the first time at age eleven. Certain details, to this day, remain vivid: the crowd rising as the lights dimmed. The heat of a pyrotechnic explosion at the beginning of 'Sympathy for the Devil.' The ground beneath my feet, sticky with beer. One bit in particular stands out above the rest, however. Returning home later that night, I was greeted on the front porch by sleepy-eyed parents. Buzzing, high on color and flash bulbs and drumbeats and leather jackets, I hopped back and forth in my tennis shoes and blithely declared, 'I’m in love!' My parents smiled. Music was a part of their history. I imagine it meant a lot for them to know it would be a part of mine, as well. 'I’m in love,' I repeated, 'with Keith Richards.'"

See the post in its entirety on the Equals Record, here. You can find past entries from my column, Looking Forward, here. Thanks so much for reading!

Photos, clockwise from top left: Eddie Kramer, unknown, Jim Marshall.

One of Those Moments.

This week on the Equals Record: thoughts on the tiny moments that often comprise our most beloved memories. Of the posts I've written so far for my column, this is one of the most meaningful to me, in many ways.

An excerpt from the new post: "One of the best gifts I’ve ever received was a stack of paper about an inch thick, held together with a large metal clip and titled 'Me, Hallucinating All Night Long.' It was a book, written by my dad, presented to my brother and me one year for Christmas. It was the story of the first forty years of his life, he explained, but it was written in the form of a list. More specifically, it was a collection of captions to photographs that had never been taken—an autobiography made up of small moments."

See the rest on the Equals Record, here, and past entries from my column, Looking Forward, here. Thank you so much for your kindness and support.

Top photo from Joseph Gordon-Levitt's The Tiny Book of Tiny Stories. Bottom photo by Max Wanger via Instagram.

Second Chances.

I often forget that just after college - before I lived in Brooklyn and long before I started my freelance career - I lived in a tiny apartment in Manhattan and worked as an intern at a fashion design studio. I was twenty-two, thrilled to be in the city, and more than ready to call myself a New Yorker. But, much to my dismay at the time, things didn't quite work out according to plan. More on my false start, this week on the Equals Record. 

Here's a bit from the new post: "When people ask how long I’ve lived in New York, invariably, my answer is, I moved here in 2009. This is, in fact, true, but - I have to admit – it isn’t the whole truth. I moved to New York for the first time the winter after graduating college - in large part, because my boyfriend at the time was finishing his last year at Columbia, and I was eager to close what had been a very challenging long-distance chapter of our relationship. Until then, I’d never lived outside California (as an adult, anyway), and like many recent college graduates, I’d never had to think about things like finding my own apartment or paying my own bills. I arrived in January 2008, suitcases in tow, ready to move in to a Morningside Heights apartment I’d never seen before. I had no plan for finding a job, and no savings. But, I reassured myself, this is what one does after college – moves away, starts a new life. I was nervous, but I was thrilled at the thought of becoming a New Yorker. I lasted just under six months."

You can see the rest at the Equals Record, here, and find past entries from my column, Looking Forward, here. I can't thank you enough for reading; your kindness, encouragement, and support each week really means the world.

Photo from my Instagram.