Category Archives: Old

Remembering 2

When I was young I built myself a tree house in the forest beyond my neighbors backyard. My brother and I brought supplies to the tree from our Dad’s tool box in our garage. I nailed some of my old skateboards to that tree as decoration. I left a lot of my life when I went to the tree house and stepped into a world where there wasn’t much else other than the sounds and the sights of endless trees and space. As far back as I can remember, there has always been something inside of me that has been introspective about silence. There are ghosts in my heart, and demons that I feel, but I can hear my younger self in that silence. I think a part of me never left that tree. The truth and virtue of those warm afternoons spent in its arms of old have never ceased to speak wisdom into my life as I advance and try new things, new relationships, new endeavors, new art, and new dreams.

I used to make up words of advice when I was alone. Things like “stand up for what you believe in” or “face your fears” or “dream big because God does” would be the daily saying of advice. I guess my advice today probably sounds something like “let go as much as you can. Figure out the things you absolutely can’t let go of. Those few things are at the core of who you are. Are you okay with that? If not, don’t shy away from change. Don’t waste your time doing something you don’t want to do. Follow your heart and stuff and don’t give up, but make sure you believe.”

What I mean is that God has a way with silence. I’m saying all of this because I’m going to return to silence soon and I can only hope a part of me stays there forever to speak truth to me throughout the rest of my life. It’s the paradox of life where the more you die to yourself, the more life you are given.


Remembering 1

I remember how obsessed I was with Godzilla at such a young age. I remember having dreams that he was real and I rode on its back and we destroyed buildings.

James C. Su-Brown

My Grandpa has lived a life I could never fully comprehend. Every time I see him, he sits down and ultimately unloads a plethora of stories about his life. He tells me about skipping every class at Harvard, then pulling an all-nighter before the final and getting perfect scores. He laughs a lot. His stories remind me not to worry so much. He lived off of watermelon rinds and became a master of chess, and he is smiling the whole time he tells the story for the¬†hundredth¬†time. The Seattle Times wrote about him in 1990. He was still working as a successful lawyer at the time. I must say, though, that this article does not even begin to do justice to his life, but it’s interesting to read an unbiased biography of my Grandpa. Read the article here.