Archive

check me out

eohippus labs (los angeles) has released a small collection by Korean/American authors exploring inherited trauma. I’m incredibly thankful to be included in this collection, which was edited and introduced by Janice Lee, with essays by Don Mee Choi, Chiwan Choi, and Saehee Cho.

When I saw the galley proofs last month, a tremor moved through me reading these essays. It’s hard to articulate han, it literally overwhelms me. I’ve tried in other spaces, but seeing this shared effort with my literary kin opened something inside me. Such gratitude.

Peace Light Promo 2

I’m crazy excited to share that my new work, PEACE LIGHT, will be featured in Philadelphia from May 3-June 3 as part of Asian Arts Initiative’s 25th Anniversary exhibition series, (ex)CHANGE.

Motivated by urgent issues of Korea’s well-being and a desire to bridge what happens on the Korean Peninsula and our lives here, PEACE LIGHT features an installation of paper lanterns designed by Kai-wei Hsu covered in my writing. A large weather balloon will float overhead, against which I’ll project a video piece dedicated to crossing impossible spaces, connection, and peace. In collaboration with Philadelphia-based choreographer and dancer Jungwoong Kim, the installation will be incorporated into a site-specific performance piece.

For opening weekend, we’ll be hosting two live performances on Thursday May 3rd at 7pm and Sunday May 6th at noon, both located at 448 N. 10th Street on the second floor. Performances are wheelchair accessible, and free and open to the public.

The lantern texts feature my own writing with excerpts from Leo Hwang,  Erinrose Mager, Asialee Drews, Chiwan Choi, Janice Lee, Sun Yung Shin, Jennifer Kwon Dobbs, Bekhyon Yim, and Lee Herrick. These fellow Korean writers and friends responded thoughtfully to a survey I had sent them asking about longing, crossings, and peace. Their friendship and support fills my heart with a perfect kinship light. 

I’m grateful to Asian Arts Initiative for this amazing opportunity, and to the Pew Center for Arts and Heritage (PCAH) for financing this series. My life has been utterly changed by PCAH’s immense support over the years. I’m immeasurably thankful!

 

It’s happening! The Smithsonian Institute’s Asian Pacific American Center is hosting its first ever Asian American Literature Festival next week in DC. I’ll be participating, as weill an incredible roster of artists, writers, publishers, and scholars. This is a historic event, and not to be missed. My participation is three-fold. I’ll be reading poetry as part of the Poetry Journal’s Asian American themed issue launch on Thursday night. On Friday, I’ll be making a Literary Address. The title of my remarks is “Awarding Abjection.” It’s likely to be a somewhat provocative conversation, and I’m looking forward to it. I’m also hosting a salon on Experimentalism and Community Building. It should be a busy but amazing time! I’m so grateful to the organizers, most especially Lawrence Minh-Bui Davis for his selfless organizing efforts and immensely generous imagination for community. Click the image above to visit their program site. 

NO-COMET-cvr-frnt

It happened! My fourth book, No Comet, That Serpent in the Sky Means Noiseis now available to order from Kore Press. I can’t believe I get to join their family! I love this cover, designed by my dear friend and incredible poet, James Meetze. After reading his book, Phantom Hour, I knew we spoke the same language of loss. He also wrote a statement for the back of the text. I felt enfolded by such love and insight with Lisa and Ann at Kore, and with James. Cynthia Arrieu-King and Ruth Ellen Kocher also wrote statements for the book. Their spirits are simpatico with mine on so many levels. Cindy truly has become family to me over the years. Right now, I feel so gently held.

The cover art (and a few images internal to the text) were generously made available by Finnish photographer J-P Metsavainio. I am a huge fan of his incredible astral photographs, and found them to display an incredible subtlety and brilliance. I can’t wait for him to get a copy!

Some of them were the very first poems I wrote when I decided that I was a poet, back in my early 20s, astonishingly. One thing I will say about these poems is that they came from a space of grief. And yet, when I look these poems over, I feel solace. I think you will, too. I’ve been preoccupied with devastation the last many years. Solar Maximum explored a monster light–the last light of the sun before it destroyed the earth, and leaned into something strange. I feel like this new book of poems hold devastation a bit differently. They’re very human, these poems. Solar Maximum tended towards what we are moving into as we became other than human; with this new book, we’re still ourselves, miraculously.