The year I was born was the Year of the Tiger. It says a lot about me. Independent, Loyal, Considerate, Solitary, Inquisitive, and Compassionate. They say a Tiger is a born leader and fit for running a business. Indeed, I am a writer of my own and an independent thinker. But it’s rare to encounter someone with my year and my generation as a whole at work or in public, which I always feel in-between, transitional, liminal, or cruel to be kind, lost even.
My mom delivered me by admitting herself into a maternity ward in St Mary’s Hospital in Seoul, Korea, on a snowing wintry evening. Dad was working at the bank, and she didn’t want to interrupt his working time. Mom, being exceptionally devoted to Mother Mary, wanted to deliver her first child at her namesake’s hospital.
U.S. President Richard Nixon resigned from the presidency following the Watergate scandal.
The first human ancestor Lucy, dated to be 3.2million years old, was discovered in Ethiphia. Lucy is named after a Beatles’s song “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.” But I still don’t believe she is our huamkind’s ancestor.
Hello Kitty came to the world! ❤️ And Forever!
Consequently, I feel like my generation has become an age of Judge according to Shakesperea’s Seven Stages of Life, whether I’m not too fond of it or not. Denial of the age is asking for trouble against natural law, said Cicero. Of course, there is nothing new under the sun, but the contemporaneous MZ Generation is a different tribe reminiscent of the children’s tribe in William Golding’s Lord of the Flies or Stephen King’s Children ofthe Corns. Amid the generational waves, I can’t help but think that my generation is those who rescued the stranded children in Lord of the Flies or the couple who tried to save the doomed children of the corns. But no one seems to care about it but to disappear beyond the time. But you know what? We are the survivors of the change from the Metal Age to the Digital Age, and we are yet to be withered and stale.
I would rather consider myself an observer than a judge, which sounds stern and draconian. In this regard, I see people’s true colors through their speaking manners and behavior patterns. Also, being bicultural and bilingual means you are endowed with a particular eye for seeing the universal characteristics of humankind that are uniquely diverse yet oddly familiar.
“You are too sensitive,” people tell me, but I can’t help it because that’s the way I was born with the unique eye that enables me to see people’s characters whether I like them or not. No, not a psychic. Perhaps something of an ancient Sybil, I would instead call, will be more the like. People don’t like this ability because, like an MRI scanning, their inner worlds are revealed. Something should be left buried to protect the good of others and the keepers, I presume. Still, there’s nothing you could do about it when you were born with the eye, be it either curse or gift.
It reminds me of Midas’s golden hand that turned everything he touched into Gold and Cassandra, whose words people disregard even if she was telling the truth. But then I think my cats are better seers who could see the true characters of people like Odin’s two ravens, Memory and Thought, and Freya’s two cats driving her chariot. ⭐️💫🧚♀️
Digital art by Danielle Zemba from Fine Art of America Stephanie’s two cats ⭐️
Happiness is made of purrs and meows, kneading and cuddling, kisses and hugs, all packaged in striped and black furs with soft-cushioned paws. The happiest of me is when my cats are next to me at home.
The happiest moments are in the company of my cats, Toro, the Tabby, and Camile, the Puss in Boots. When I go home after work, Toro and Camille greet me at the front door, rub their little heads against my leg, and say, “Mello, (Hello in their language).” My cats also stay on my bed at night while I am sleeping. I often wake up in the middle of the night and see Toro in my arms and Camille at my feet, which is so comforting and warm. Since they became my family, I have dreamed of nightmares or any supernatural scare springing from my mind. It is said that cats have the extraordinary power to ward off evil spirits, and I believe so. My brother had the same experience in Japan where, before adopting his cat, he used to hear someone walking upstairs. Of course, that ceased after the cat became a family.
Even though Camille has brought me good luck for my present job, I am happier when Toro is beside me. He is such an affectionate cat that I am so happy that we are a family. The veterinanrians love Toro and Camille because they are so sweet and gentle. Love makes happiness, and my cats are love. Happiness is my cats.
Some do birdwatching, some Trainspotting, but mine is planespotting. I went for it last Saturday, and it was such fun that I recorded the event as a video log to preserve the intoxication of the spirit, watching a magnificent view.
My brother and I went to a park near LAX (Los Angeles International Airport) to watch planes in close-ups because I am always fascinated with magnificent airplanes – not private jets, such as the Cessna -. There’s something about big airplanes with their majestic appearance, like giant whales in the sea skies. Come to think of it, rather than relating planes to birds because of the wings, associating them with whales (for Bowing 747) or dolphins (for Airbuses) is all the more like it because of their streamlined body shapes. I should have become a flight attendant, which would have been perfect to realize my dream of being in the skies.
At the magnificent view of the airplanes, my heart was racing along the planes like Icarus, who dashed against his father’s warning not to fly close to the sun. I wanted to fly in the skies and go to places I had never been. I bet my yearning was what Icarus must have felt after escaping imprisonment with his father, Daedalus, in the labyrinth in Crete. Planespotting was exhilarating and fun. 🌟
Describe a man who has positively impacted your life.
My Dad 🤓
I hate the book title “Rich Dad, Poor Dad” with forthright prejudice against the rule of “Don’t judge the book by its cover.” There’s no such thing as such classification of Dad, but My Dad, Your Dad, or Our Dads, no matter where you come from. My Dad is not rich, and I am not certainly wealthy, but I have a great inheritance from him.
The dossier unfolds the following legacies: a wealth of knowledge ranging from philosophy to literature, a love of reading and writing, an affinity for seas and sea voyages, and a milk of human kindness. My dad is the best person to talk about various interests, from Socrates to our favorite classic film, the Bicycle Thief, to Palestrina, to Bach, and the subjects or knowledge many people do not know or are not interested in. I am proud of him for being such an erudite man who wears his knowledge with a heart of gold in an unassuming manner.
My dad is now 85 years old, and I have reached the point where I should prepare for the day he will depart from this world. Honestly, I am both scared of it and disheartened by the fact of our lives. Sometimes, he tells me he is sorry for not having much money for a better living environment, but I am grateful for his great inheritance, which is rare and priceless. ⭐️💫✨
Flame, Glass and Ink are Poems, essays, and reading notes by Stefania Joori Suh 
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