Spring Pics

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AP House 1 and the bridge to campus

Campus

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Day out at Lake Shidaka

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What's the one thing the Japanese love to do when spring comes? The answer is "hanami" or "flower viewing". Crowds of people flock to parks or other famous sightseeing places to enjoy the colorful flowers in full bloom. But it's the sakura that steals the show. This is my first "hanami". We didn't have that kind of thing back at home. So, I didn't really get what all this hype was about watching those flower blossoms. I mean, how beautiful can they be? As it turned out, very beautiful indeed. Breathtakingly so. I love spring in Japan. It's a very nice change from the cold drab winter days. The sakura blossoms don't last long. So before they all fall to the ground, I had to go see them. (And upload photos on facebook and instagram. :D) So, last weekend, I went to a place called Lake Shidaka. It's a camping site. When the lake came into view, it was like I had stepped straight into a postcard. It was that beautiful. Now, ...
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How I Write

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I love reading books and listening to podcasts about how writers come up with ideas for their writing and what their creative process is like. Even though I have shared pieces of my writing over the years, I realized I have never written a post about my own writing process. So for this week’s blog post, I thought it would be interesting and fun (at least for me!) to share with you about where I get my ideas from and how I shape those ideas into a piece of writing. I will be talking about the times when I write for myself, not when I write for school or work assignments. For this post, I dug up some old pieces of writing to use as examples. It turned out to be a good opportunity for me to reflect on my own writing process and how it has evolved through the years. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did while writing this. If any of my readers share the same interest and hobby in creative writing, I look forward to hearing from you about your creative process as well! Where do...
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I. Darkness, my old friend, arrives earlier than usual these days. When the sun sets, she enters my room quietly, flings her velvet cloak and settles down, making herself at home. The warm glow from the street lamp seeps into the room while the pale moon shines faintly above the city skyline. We sit in comfortable silence and yet, I can't help but feel your absence.   With nothing better to do, I pick on loose strands of memories and reality starts to unravel. A yellow post-it note. A postcard with the photo of a blue ocean. An orange T-shirt. A Christmas wish decorated in red and green. And just like the inside of the kaleidoscope you once gave me, the room comes alive with colorful memories ricocheting against these four walls.   II.   It's raining.   The rain and I, we have become strangers. He no longer tells me stories about all the far away places he has traveled, the people he has met and the things he has seen. Our midnight conversations ...
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