Flame, Glass and Ink are Poems, essays, and reading notes by Stefania Joori Suh

Tag: column

  • The Ghost Generation

    Flashback to 1974 – Celebrating the pop culture, people, politics, and places.: From the original Time-Traveler Flashback Series of Yearbooks ― news … 1974. (A Time-Traveler’s Guide - Flashback)

    Flashback to 1974 – Celebrating the pop culture, people, politics, and places.: From the original Time-Traveler Flashback Series of Yearbooks ― news … 1974. by B. Bradforsand-Tyler

    My rating: 5 of 5 stars

    I always think that people born in the 1970s are in-betweeners. Visible, yes, but not conspicuous. It’s the transitional generation, crossing over the boundaries of the 21st and 20th centuries like faerie children, hybrids of yesterday and today. The last generation of the 20th century fully lived and ended in the new era. And it’s hard to encounter them in reality for some mysterious reasons. It makes one feel like a changeling among new and newer waves of generations.

    The choice of this book is, therefore, something akin to encountering an acquaintance among total strangers in a strange land, even if such excitement is not reciprocated. The 1970s was when the world we know now began to form its familiar landscape with the birth of new words as society became more technologically advanced and culturally enhanced. Here is a list of the terms we use, like commodities born in 1974: Touchscreen, telecommute, supermom, CT Scan, memory card, transgender, wake-up call and GOTCHA.

    It’s not about being proud of my generation or criticizing their generations. It’s about the generation I see as half visible and half invisible, especially in the current workforce, from law firms to the entertainment industry dominated by millennial babies. Of course, Watergate and the inflations from the oil shock imprinted on the generational pictures, but those born in the 70s grew up to enjoy the privilege of fully appreciating the digital age and its conveniences in every aspect of life. The Who’s “My Generation” should be the soundtrack of my generation.

    People try to put us down (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
    Just because we get around (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
    Things they do look awful cold (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
    This is my generation
    This is my generation, baby

    GOTCHA.



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  • prompt 92

    What do you complain about the most?

    I get irritated when things are not going the way they should, so the litany of complaints is as follows:

    • I can’t find what I want to wear – My closet is so tiny that all my clothes are crammed together, making it difficult to see my choice of clothese to wear. It happens constantly, so I must prepare my wardrobe for work at night to avoid the hassle in the morning. The closet has more than clothing because it is also used as a multi-storage room for everything from the food for my cats and parakeet to a set of Christmas decorations to miniature dollhouse articles. Searching for what to wear is like finding a Nemo.
    • The buses are not coming, and I am waiting forever… – I commute to and fro work and home by bus, which used to run on time until last month. But now is a morning ordeal. Either I have to get up earlier than now or leave home late. Either way, I am not late for work, but it’s troubling my yearning for a calm morning. What with attending to Mom’s healthcare attention and tending to the morning needs of my cats, fish, and parakeet, my morning is never in the doldrums.
    • I hate when people do not listen to me or ignore my presence – There is nothing more disheartening than being treated as if I were invisible. For example, when you say hi to everyone but me, I will be very shocked, vexed, and disheartened through a process similar to Kubla Ross’s five stages of dying. I will be more in sorrow than in anger if I am ignored.

    So these situations prompt me to burst into complaints, but my complaints usually dissipate into the echo of the air no one hears.

  • ‘Shakespeare on Toast: Getting a Taste for the Bard’ by Ben Crystal -book review

    Shakespeare on Toast: Getting a Taste for the Bard by Ben Crystal

    My rating: 5 of 5 stars

    During my undergraduate years as an English major at Rutgers, Shakespeare wasn’t my favorite figure of English literature. He seemed overly hyped and scholarly to tax the enjoyment of the simple pleasure of reading. The impression of the Bard has mellowed, but he’s in the upper caste in the constellation of writers. Crystal wrote the book with me and other kindred spirits in mind.


    Shakespeare wasn’t a stuffy academic writer whose ambition was to imprint indelible footprints in the path of humankind. Instead, he was a playwright, a modern-day screenwriter who was more interested in attracting audiences to his plays as much as possible. His characters are timeless and boundless, transpiring in every human face from all races and cultures because they are universal. The plays are dramatic portrayals of what it is to be human. King Lear, played by a Korean veteran actor, begets the same level of emotions as his English peer has demonstrated because it is the heart that spurs the mind to speak.


    Crystal is a knowledgeable writer who wears his knowledge on the subject from the studies lightly with the general public in mind. His endeavor to bring the figure of the literary giant is magnanimously noble and altruistic. Perhaps Crystal might have been the one who was disaffected with those elitist writers and pedantic academics claiming Shakespeare as one of their own, only to be appreciated by the literati. In sum, if you are interested in reading Shakespeare for the first time or discovering who he was, this book is a commendable read and a good primer for further reading about his plays and more.


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  • friends or foes?

    I always feel guilty about leaving Toro alone when I go to work. It would be best to add another feline companion, but the existential circumstance prevents it. Hence the flying tenants moved in. The new parakeets are Sera (Blue) and Pippi (Green), who demonstrate that the phrase “eats like a bird” should be part of the Woke movement of removal. They are also unknowingly clever and perceptive that I wonder if they are secretly enchanted humans serving their time for misdeeds till the spell is cast off.

    Toro, aka the Curious Cat, also seems to know that Sera and Pippi are a joint force to be reckoned with, so to speak, but nevertheless shows undeterred attention to every move the duo takes with feline discreetness. Timid but curious, Toro wants to touch the moving feathers of parakeets whenever they come out of the cage for sauntering. But the birds show no fear but irritation against the unwanted friendship from the lonely feline. Poor Toro. I console him after Sera pecks his little nose with her dainty beak in protest against his pawed touch. However, my original purpose of making the birds friends with Toro is still valid because both Sera and Pippi do not altogether repulse Toro with wild shrieks of danger.

    I hope the birds will be warm to Toro as time goes by till we move to a bigger and better place to live so that I can bring another cat to the family.

    Twinkle, emerald dreaming,
    Love flocks in blue and green,
    Curiosity stalks love’s gathering,
    Loneliness emboldens attempting
    touch of love fluttering in longing.