to a year of many firsts

2016 started off with many job interviews, and eventually landing myself in a job within the F&B industry. Along with that, driving lessons. Of course, the release of A-level results which lead to even more firsts. Scholarship applications, internships, and entering university. The first semester was filled with many firsts too. Laying bed sheets; eating all sorts of food; 6am talks; being shirtless in Sentosa; pulling an all-nighter because of WCT; open-book exams; midnight runs; drinking; visiting a bar; having friends to drive you around; purchasing alcohol; booking a flight on my own; many more things which I can’t remember offhand. Entering university felt like a great milestone and it made me feel like I grew a lot.

Feeling is one thing; being is another hahaha. Maybe I didn’t grow as much as I thought I had, or maybe this growth came too fast for the people around me to get used to.

The first day of 2017 hit me real hard. At least this realization came early. More time for more changes!

2016 was momentous indeed; 2017 will be even more so :)

 

Twenty-Three Days

The Jasmine Dialogues

Back from three+ weeks in Peru. First half of the trip? Putting together a 3-day, 80-mile circumnavigation fastpack of the remote, rugged Cordillera Huayhuash with Portland friends Willie McBride and Brian Donnelly. Second half? A solo trip through Cusco, Machu Picchu, and Arequipa’s high volcanoes. Art. Coffee. Craft beer.  Festivals. Dogs. Earth-shattering trip. Photo essay below; writing pronto.

peru7peru1peru2peru3peru4peru5

View original post

Ahh, it has been too long.

I no longer know of the curves and bumps of the path, what was short blades of grass have shot up, the people and gossip are familiar no more. Yet I still take comfort in it, I still miss this. 

But how do you miss “this” when you no longer know “this”?

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
“I was very emotional making this painting about a girl who bandaged an American pilot during the war of destruction of the Americans in North Vietnam.”

I won a Pulitzer Prize in 1969 for a photograph of one man shooting another. Two people died in that photograph: the recipient of the bullet and General Nguyen Ngoc Loan. The general killed the Viet Cong; I killed the general with my camera. Still photographs are the most powerful weapon in the world. People believe them, but photographs do lie, even without manipulation. They are only half-truths. What the photograph didn’t say was, “What would do you if you were the general at that time and place on that hot day, and you caught the so-called bad guy after he blew away one, two or three American soldiers?” General Loan was what you would call a real warrior, admired by his troops. I’m not saying what he did was right, but you have to put yourself in his position. The photograph also doesn’t say that the general devoted much of his time trying to get hospitals built in Vietnam for war casualties. This picture really messed up his life. He never blamed me. He told me if I hadn’t taken the picture, someone else would have, but I’ve felt bad for him and his family for a long time. I had kept in contact with him; the last time we spoke was about six months ago, when he was very ill. I sent flowers when I heard that he had died and wrote, “I’m sorry. There are tears in my eyes.”