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

Tag: storytelling

  • prompt 85

    Bloganuary writing prompt
    Write about your first name: its meaning, significance, etymology, etc.
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    I have two first names: one is given by my paternal grandmother according to our centuries-old family tradition, which is Joori (주리). The other is by the centuries-old Church, Stephanie. Both names rhyme well, like eurythmics of serendipity, and they are originally Asian.

    Joori (주리) combines two words, Joo, (주), meaning Red, and ri (리), meaning Beneficial. According to the book of the family tree, the children of our clan must have the same characters as their first names. My cousin, the daughter of my father’s older brother, is named Joohyun (주현) and bears the character Joo (주). Hence, my first name also has Joo (주). It used to be quite a unique Korean name when I was little, considered exotic compared to other Korean names for girls. However, a soothsayer once told me that it’s not a good name for me because it obstructed any fortune ahead of me, and I should consider it for another. Nominative determinism, I call it. But I am too lazy to go through all the seismic name-changing procedures in two countries.

    Stephanie is my Christian name. My maternal family has been Catholic for three generations in Korea, so baptism was the beginning of a rite of passage to be received in the Church. The original version of Stephanie is Stephania, a feminine form of Stepehn or Stephano (Hebrew: סטפנוס, Greek: Στέφανος Stéphanos, meaning ‘wreath or crown.’ Mom once told me that a religious sister at a parochial church we used to go to when I was tiny looked at me and told her to name me Stephania. So, there’s nominative determinism with this name as well. I was named after St. Stephen, the protomartyr of Christianity whose feast day is December 26th in the liturgical calendar. He was a Hellenistic jew, a decon, and a Jewish community leader in Greece, who was not afraid of holding his fatih high and facing stoning to death by exclaiming, “Lo, the door of heaven is opening now!” Hence, he was crowned with the wreath of faith.

    Names are what endows people with presence. We are no longer immaterial spirits but materialize as corporeal individuals once the names are given and called. My first names, Stephanie Joori, constitute what I am. And to the people who ask me why I use a Western name, such as Stephanie, hark! The etymology of the name Stephanie is derived from Hebrew סטפנוס, and Israel is located not in Europe but Asia. And just like my patron saint, I am a Korean diaspora living in the States, speaking both Korean and English and helping those in both communities. So, nominative determinism seems to work on my names. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

  • prompt 84

    Bloganuary writing prompt
    What’s your dream job?
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    The word “Job” always triggers the image of Job, whose piety to God was tested by Satan, who made him go through the trials of life so that he could curse God for the suffering. The etymology of Job is from Greek Iōb, from Hebrew Iyyōbh, meaning ‘occurrence.’ Or ‘Joining Others’ Business,’ which is hardly anything dreamy.

    My ideal Job is one where I can perform my abilities to the greatest extent possible with good pay and benefits packages to secure my livelihood. After a series of misses on the Wheel of Fortune, I finally landed my current Job as a case manager assistant in a law firm, which I am grateful for (although some of the co-workers behave foolishly and immaturely as if they were teenagers.) It’s not a dream job, and I wouldn’t have to sustain a job if I won a lottery or possessed bequeathed estates from the family trust account. Still, it helps me pay the rents, dues, provide the food and medical to my cats and Mom, and keep my appearance.

    No jobs are dreams; if you insist, they will not last like a midsummer night’s dream because feelings are fleeting and precarious. Earl of Kent wouldn’t have had to get a job if King Lear had not let him go of employment as his trusty servant. And when he got it, it wasn’t his dream job, either.

  • prompt 83

    What makes a good leader?

    A good leader is not only knowledgeable but also patient and understanding. The Homerian virtue of Arete was a combination of military finesse with personal integrity, which applies to today’s prompt topic.

    But in reality, there are a few good men and women in leadership. Many women on the leadership level are afraid of showing traits of feminity and behave overtly professionally, berating other women whom they regard as too gentle or quiet. It is not an overtly manipulated air of aggressiveness that commands respect or attention, which the pretenders mistake.

    It reminds me of Queen Elizabeth I’s Tilbury Address: “I may have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king.” You can be both gentle and firm, and that’s called wisdom. It makes a good leader.

  • prompt 82

    Bloganuary writing prompt
    If you could un-invent something, what would it be?
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    Daylight Saving Time. Puritanical and Calvinistic. I see no absolute necessity in going against the law of nature to disturb our biological rhythms that work differently on individuals by forwarding an hour to work all day as long as the Sun Chariot is racing around the celestial hippodrome. Why not let the time alone and accept the things of nature in summertime? I attribute it to puritanical ethics that waking up early in the morning constitutes an ethical code of a “healthy, wealthy, and wise” individual, as campaigned by Benjamin Franklin. While it has some truth, everyone has different mental and biological dispositions. Sleep deprivation causes loss of memories, anxiousness, nervousness, and attention deficiency. It has to go.

  • Recollection of the Alhambra

    Alhambra (Alhambra de Granada): image credit from viator.com
    He came down from the throne of the crescent moon
    with the key to the paradise his ancestors gardened
    for eight hundred years of harmony in Saracen haven
    to the hands of the pious proud king and queen posing
    to accept it as the Christian champions emboldened
    by the surrender of the ruler of the Iberian paradise; 

    Yesterdays, yesteryears, and to the last of the time
    crept upon the waters of the palatial fountains thence
    and began to fill the heart of the sultan of the palace
    whose eyes billowed streams of nostalgia’s longings
    on his hallow cheeks and to the back of his horse
    together, leaving the fortress of a thousand memories; 

    And Fate, whose wings did he fly? Now, all’s bygone-
    Those melodies of sweet sojourns beneath visting suns
    in the neverending abundance of warmth and mirth-
    when every regret, every sorrow turned back his looks, 
    Every look shed tears in the shadow of the evening sun,
    lingering in the recollection of the Alhambra Palace.

  • Prompt 81

    Can you share a positive example of where you’ve felt loved?

    I love you Toro ❤️🥰

    I feel love with Toro, the Tabby General, the only one I can say, ‘ I love you.’ It’s emotionally taxing to work human’s love to be loved as if it were a quid pro quo deal or a meritocratic reward. But with Toro, it is anything but.

    Of course, I also love Camille, the Puss in Black Socks, but Toro is the center of my existence. He is all love and life. Toro is the only one who sees me gladly and greets me with his little head, bunting my leg and hand forcibly, even when I am sulky and miserable. He also sleeps at my feet or sometimes next to me when I sleep as though to dispel nightmares. He knows what I am feeling inside and who I am. Looking at his eyes is seeing my soul reflected in the emerald sea sparkling with curiosity and soothing with lullaby.

    I confide in Toro the maladies of my heart and secrets. Shakespeare said, “Love All, Do Wrong to None, and Trust a Few.” Toro is one of those a few I trust. I read a letter written by Elizabeth Taylor to her beloved cat who went missing after they moved to a house in California from England. I could feel her love toward her missing cat so much that it almost felt physically hurtful for the sorrow she expressed.

    Toro will turn four years old this August and is in good health now, but I am also worried that he will leave me someday. I can’t imagine a world without him and life without his love. So I always ask him to live with me as long as possible and to leave this world together when our times on earth are due. There’s no one like Toro who is as kind and affectionate as he is. He is my friend and my brother. I love him so much in every universe.