I am a lunar person who wakes up early when the morning dew is released as the Moon returns her home before the Sun Chariot and writes late in the evening when the stars are serenading the Moon.
Days are for the Bread and Nights for the Mind. When I am off from work at home, I watch movies during the day and write at night, followed by reading my Kindle. I feel my creative streak comes out when the sun goes down, just as my cats become more active at the same time. Perhaps my nocturnal tendencies spring from being a Tiger animal sign, born at 7 o’clock on a wintry night. The words appear in flights of fancy, and the images conjure up in a phantasmagorical display on a magical mirror. Perhaps it’s the lunar power that draws me into the mysteries of the world that has never been. Or is it the lunar power in me thas has never been known?
Oh, and did I mention I wake up at the Witching Hour now and then? My two cats, Toro and Camille, know it too, but they are only glad to see me waking so I can give them nightly treats. I feel welcome in the World of Night. ⭐️🌟💫✨🧚♀️
What technology would you be better off without, why?
Being a transient generation privileged with the Dolby system on CD and DVD to the digital sound of streaming music and movies, I opine that a fax machine with manual feeders should be enshrined in the Museum of Civilization for Posterity. 🤓
What’s the hardest decision you’ve ever had to make? Why?
I have my share of making the hardest decision that I want to divulge in the hope of making the readers see that your problems are not unique but common to all of us and, therefore, support you to do what your heart tells you to do.
Do you like Dickensian stories? So the story goes.
It happened at my workplace, where I started this past March. I landed this job through a referral of an employee who was a friend of my acquaintance. I am thankful that I got this job, which is highly competitive with decent pay and benefits here in Los Angeles, CA. But the gratitude should not exploit my dignity and vulnerability at no expense. The employee who referred me to the job became my supervising manager, but it didn’t take long for me to realize her uncontrollable temper, topped with tantrums and mistreatment of me in public. She constantly berated my performance – even if my mistakes were not fatal, resulting from her inept management and leadership skills. She caviled at my appearance, saying it’s too thin and thus pauperish and haggard. That didn’t end there. She shouted at me over the phone every Friday when she worked from home, tainting TGIF in Evil Friday. And the torture continued.
My colleagues who shared the same office space witnessed such malice and urged me to talk to HR so that they could put me on a different team. However, I was hesitant to do so, though my spirit was yearning, because I was afraid of the worst scenario of my getting discharged from the position since I was still on a probation period. So, I waited until a divine sign resulted from my prayer. Days passed, and finally, the moment arrived on a Friday. I couldn’t take her insult any longer, so I took the matter to HR in person and via email. The result was the change of my team from hell to heaven. Now, I work under an organized manager with leadership/management skills and a graceful personality as a bonus. So, in sum, my hard decision to voice out a cry of the heart was fortuitous. Happy Ending.
The words I am writing in this letter to you are the voice from my words, and I am addressing your soul’s heart to heart. I know you may not understand the complexities of human language, but my heart and soul are the basics of the words, and I know you will understand what I am trying to say anyway…
Camille
I am so sorry that I can’t provide you with the ideal environment for both of you, my sweet darlings, in my present situation. You know that I can’t let you out of our little bedroom whenever you want to go to the living room where the mother stays. She doesn’t like you to be around because she is jealous of my love for you. But she refuses to know that she loves me, not because she never does and has always been unkind to her only daughter. She is not evil but an ill person inside and outside due to her unspoken history of mental illness. I know it, but it’s a taboo that her family wouldn’t disclose. I know this because I am very keen on psychology based on human behaviors. I think you have already sensed it with your supernatural feline senses. What a fate!
Toro
When I utter a cry of fate, my soul cries at my fate of being unable to give you the necessary environment to thrive as happy cats. Of course, I always bring you to the doctor when you show symptoms of bodily discomfort, however slight they may be. But when I see my brother’s and cousin’s cats happily and freely roaming around their lovely homes, my heart breaks, and my soul cries inwardly and outwardly. How much I love you guys so much! Toro, you have been with me in every moment of my darkness and occasional lightness. You are always with me when life is unkind to me with the cold shoulders and icy glances. How comforting to stroke your cushy furs through my fingers lying next to me! You are my faithful companion. And Camille, since you came to me, your sweet purrs and meows have consoled my wretched soul. You are such a sweet soul. To people who believe animals have no souls, I defy to see their eyes straightly and speak to them softly that you love them! They know they are loved, and I know my darlings realize it! They know I am sad and happy. They are my only friends in this cold world.
So, I am asking you to hold on to hope that someday we will live in a lovely home where you can freely and happily roam around, run around all the rooms and floors, cajoling and frolicking to your content and being yourselves. Therefore, I wonder if you want me to accept Brother Joe’s proposal to move to Korea and live in his luxurious apartment with a spacious loft for you and me to live comfortably. What do you think? You think it’s okay?
Doubt that the stars fall from the sky. Doubt that the sea is blue. Doubt night becomes day. But never doubt I love you.
What details of your life could you pay more attention to?
Dear Reader,
After a long and tiring day at work, I look back today and regret not doing things the way I wanted – yet again. Since I spend more time in an office full of strangers with nothing in common with me other than working for the same employer, reflecting on today’s memories and actions brings me a feeling of sorrow and sympathy. It’s always this matter of diplomacy of interacting with others without offending them, which is what I should pay more attention to.
The art of social interaction is hard enough for me to achieve without having a poker face or a public mask – persona. I have seen people who ingratiate themselves with those whom they regard as socially beneficial and politically influential. I see them, all of whom are women, but I don’t see beauty in their visages, nor their minds and hearts. Those able-bodied, fair-weathered friends or sycophants are unashamed of their deeds, acting as if they were all above others, thinking themselves better than others.
Not that I begrudge them such a skill of flattering, but I realize that having the diplomatic forte may help me to live a more comfortable life for me and my two beautiful cats. Indeed, smile is the best global language where no spoken words are required. I can smile and smile beautifully, but my beautiful smile is unrelated to currying favor from the powers that be, so to speak. Still, it would work wonders if I could pay more attention to my facial expression and the whole demeanor of my body in a polished way so people would not be rude to me.
My wish is someone’s daily life or just a fancy, but it is still my wish to induce a good impression on me, no matter where you are from.
Some movies should be noted, some memorized, but only a few should be applauded and taken by heart amid the luxurious streams of movies flowing from the screens. These movies chime the bell of your mind, enshrined in your dome of thought, and stay in your heart forever like beautiful memories that have become part of you, an inspirational lamp to give your life cheer and humor in times of need. In that light, All is Lost (2013), directed by J.C. Chandor, is such a movie that sheds light on your life when things are not going well for you, or you are lost in the middle of your voyage of life.
The movie opens when a man (played by Robert Redford) wakes up, finding water in his quarter from a hall made by a collision with a stray container in the middle of the ocean. We don’t know the man’s name or where he comes from, except that he is somewhere in the Indian Ocean. We know that the man has the ambiance of a seasoned mariner whose demeanor is stoically calm and composed, rendering such an emergency look small and manageable. But it is the prelude to Nature’s test of Man’s Spirit, the beginning of his trial of hope when the damage to the yacht deteriorated due to storms to such a degree that he must abandon the yacht and sail on a lifeboat with a modicum of food and a navigational compass. But his will to survive and hope for rescue seems to be bludgeoned by the play of luck. He lights up rods to signal his location for rescue, but ships leave him alone on a vast ocean.
Moreover, sharks steal his fish and cherish his flesh, swarming under his half-deflated lifeboat. These images immediately conjure up those of Santiago, a seasoned fisherman, and the formidable great shark from The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway. Or the bright-eyed mariner from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Their silence speaks volumes of the voice of their strong spirits that can be destroyed but never conquered. Their aspirations, ambitions, and arduousness may be bent, but their souls are always ready to be rekindled by a passion for triumph over the darkness and fear, aided by a ray of hope.
All is lost is an illustrious image of life in which we are alone in each yacht, sailing on the uncharted seas until the tailwinds carry us to the East of the Sun, West of the Moon. Illustrious it may sound, but the movie is never flamboyant, and Robert Redford plays the role of the mariner as if he were playing himself in dignified silence, wonderfully emoted by his face and action alone without overtly elaborating gestures or soliloquy. It is a realist’s story and as real as our daily sailing in life’s voyage. He has lost all his possessions but not himself or his life. And even if hope seems to dissipate into the fathomless abyss, there’s still a chance of hope, and we’ve got to give ourselves a chance to hope because while we breathe, we hope. Dum spiro, spera.
Flame, Glass and Ink are Poems, essays, and reading notes by Stefania Joori Suh 
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