winter

in Japan.

When it’s colder inside than it is outside.

I make tea but if I don’t drink it in five minutes, it’s cold. So I stick it in the microwave, pull it out, take one sip, and proceed to forget about it for the next five minutes. Rinse and repeat.

Whoever invented the kotatsu should get an award. And also a slight reprimand because its main function is providing warmth and a surface on which to eat citrus fruit and sip tea, but it has a neat side function of rendering all living beings who use it immobile and incapable of any productive activity. As an aside, I feel like I could make a whole catalog of those kinds of products (I’m looking at you, giant Muji beanbag aka hito wo dame ni suru kusshon, literally cushion-that-makes-people-worthless).

The never ending cycle of sweat and chill when you use public transportation. Because when you’re dressed for sub-freezing temperatures and wind chill, you are not happy to stand packed sardine-style in a traveling tin box that’s infuriatingly well-heated with both air conditioning and the body heat of your fellow commuters.

And they say, just take off your coat. (And your scarf. And your hat. And your arm warmers. And your gloves.) Which, yes, logic. Thank you.

But one, who has time for that in the hustle and bustle of working your way through crowds to get through the station and onto the proper platform? Before you know it, the train has arrived, and the people lined up behind you push you onto said train, and you are perhaps 80% involuntarily (I say 80% because you were intending to ride said train in the first place) slotted into a space between a gruff looking business man and a toothy elementary school kid with a dozen watches on his wrist where you barely have enough room to just stand still let alone take off a coat and a dozen other cold weather accessories.

And two, if I take off my hat, I’ll have hat hair. Duh.

If I stay outside long enough, my ears hurt.

When it’s winter in Japan, you forget how hot summer was. And when it’s summer in Japan, you forget how cold winter was.

weird dancing

in MVs, i love it. my current aesthetic is Yonezu Kenshi slip sliding through the city.

check it out

click for good vibes｜breathy vocal jams

For vocal inspiration, some of my favorites in different languages; paying particular attention to phrasing, breath, and tone. Best listened to in peace and quiet; rainy weather optimal but not necessary.

Through the Night – IU | Free – Deniece Williams | Beauty and the Beast [cover] – Aoi Teshima | Can’t Love You Anymore – IU (With. OHHYUK)

 

daily staple | Heimish Aqua Tone Up Cream review

Summer is in full force and I can’t be bothered to wear anything more than sunscreen and Glossier’s boy brow most days. That, and I have declared personal war against foundations. I have dry skin and mild keratosis pilaris—most foundations/concealers just don’t sit well on my skin. I expected that tone up creams would hit a nice middle ground for me by brightening and evening the skin tone while allowing skin to retain a fresh, bare sort of look. Unfortunately, all of the tone up creams I’ve tried so far also do not seem to work very well on dry skin; they are stiff, streaky, and pill endlessly.

But I finally found it! This is tone up cream perfection. It has a smooth, moist texture that’s easy to spread and does not cause pilling. With it, you can achieve a fresh but not overdone look without the fuss of making a product sit right on the skin. Definitely my sort of product.

I was online trying to restock on moisturizer when I came across it. I found myself putting it into my cart after reading ad-copy from the brand that specifically stated that the product adheres well and resists pilling.

I didn’t think much of it after that until my order arrived.

| Heimish Aqua Tone Up Cream |

Product claims/information:

• Brightens and nourishes (multi-function)
• Hydration with a light finish
• Moist texture spreads thinly and easily for a smooth application
• White-based natural tone up can be used for all skin types and genders
• Dewy, water-based glow
• Adheres well to the skin with minimal transfer

Ingredients:

Unfortunately, the full ingredients list is not available online yet, and I was stupid enough to throw away the outer container before taking a picture, thinking I could always look it up later. I’ll update as soon as I can find it. Some of the key ingredients include cactus stem extract and maltodextrin (hydration), glutathione and vitamin tree extract (brightening), and buddleja extract (antioxidant/skin conditioning). It also contains niacinamide and does not contain ethanol, for those who are concerned about sensitivities.

Other notes:

• Has skin care capabilities and can be used in the place of a regular moisturizer.
• Can extend makeup wear if used as a base.
• Can be used at night as brightening care/moisturizer.

On a whim and without much expectation, I applied it one day after my skin care and sunscreen. The silver tube comes in an interesting plastic cylinder case and looks like it should be toothpaste. I squeezed out a dime-sized amount of product, which actually ended up being too much. A little goes a long way.

The texture is slightly more watery than one would expect from a tone up cream. It spread easily across my skin, and though it was slightly streaky at first, blending gently with my fingers gave an even, smooth finish. It seemed to put a veil over redness, discoloration, and pores without looking chalky. In fact, my skin looked hydrated rather than powdery and dry. The skin-feel of the product is moist, but lightweight.

I’ve been using this on a semi-daily basis for almost a month now. I feel like it plumps up my skin whenever I use it, and these plumping effects seem to last until I cleanse my face at night. There is a mild, flowery sort of fragrance, but it has not been irritating in the slightest on my hyper-sensitive skin. Heimish claims that it can replace your day moisturizer, but I think that would depend on skin type. It is more than enough for oily/combination/dehydrated skin types that lack hydration, but it does not have the lipids and occlusive ingredients that are crucial for those with dry skin.

It wears fairly well throughout the day without too much bunching at the sides of my nose, which is crazy because not a day goes by in Japan lately where we’re not all sweating our faces off! I did note that applying too much does encourage the product to settle into creases, so I am careful to apply only a little bit to the eye and nose area.  I also pair this with the (other) love of my life, NARS radiant creamy concealer, when I want a little more coverage. It seems to work well with other foundation/concealer products because it leaves minimum residue on the skin.

Happy camper 🤗

eggs

When your sister messages you in the middle of the night and asks you to write something about eggs.

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eggs, take one

 

in front of me

White and crisp

crackling shell

 

paint, paint, they say

stripes in blue and purple

yes, purple’s good

(lavender is all the rage lately)

 

smiley face

make exes for the eyes

all the white is gone

 

It’s not until after I finish painting that I regret not eating them instead. Why the hell would you paint an egg anyway

---

 

eggs, take two

 

Eggs are good for dieting.

Take two eggs and crack them into a bowl. Add a pinch of salt (only a touch, because sodium). Whisk vigorously and sneak in some muscle training. Throw in some chives for flavor and health—

some spinach

some kale

some protein powder

some acai

some apple cider vinegar

some spirulina

a whole damn jar of coconut oil

24k gold flakes

some water from the fountain of youth

some unicorn blood

Scramble in pan until slightly soft and fluffy. Transfer to plate. Take plate to toilet. Dump contents into toilet.

Flush.

 

 

Cry.

---

 

eggs, take three

 

my favorite way to eat eggs: raw and cracked over rice. eggs in Japan are nice. they won’t make you sick. the yolks are like little orange suns.

hikari. 7/2018.

i like to bite | editorial motion piece

My sister is studying graphic design at Art Center and rendered one of my written pieces into a visualized motion piece and zine. I put lipstick on and play with tulle for the majority of it.

ー

i like biting things.

he’s driving. sometimes he threads his fingers through mine and lifts my hand to his lips. they’re always cold, so he warms them, leaving little kisses trailing down, so i copy him. i pull his arm a little bit until it tucks right under my chin and plant my lips on the fleshy side of his hand opposite his thumb.

my teeth come out. i bite. not hard, but enough to satisfy some stirring within me. i feel at peace.

he snorts a bit, but never really complains, fingers flexing between mine.

he drives beautifully divided, one hand on the steering wheel, half his mind on the road.

hikari.

motion piece by skimarts.

late summer jumpsuiting 🍋

Before I got married and moved to Japan, my lovely bestie and college roomie Ren and I went to a swanky new mall in Buena Park called The Source. The place is still somewhat under construction, but the part that is completed is replete with geometrical architecture, trendy shadows, and lemon yellow walls.

We grabbed a bite to eat—ice cream stuffed taiyaki—and shot some outfits on a whim. My main outfit was decidedly summer-y (OC can get hot!) and I never got a chance to post these before, so I figured now’s as good a time as any. For evening chill or to transition to cooler weather, throwing a lightweight jean jacket on adds some fall sensibility to a summer piece.

I’m still really into this jumpsuit by Reformation. I just wore it on our recent honeymoon trip to the onsen resort town of Shirahama (travel tips and vlog in the works!). Linen in dreamy, muted colors like oatmeal, dried rose, and heather gray are giving me life for the tail-end of summer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reformation jumpsuit | Gucci jacket (vintage) | Madewell heels

photos by Ren

march 10th

We got married on a rainy day in March, in a small church located in the suburbs of a fairly affluent—but in more of in the artsy-low-roofed-bungalows vein than business-oriented-American-dream vein—town in LA county. About a month later, we flew out to Japan with three suitcases, still unaccustomed to the feeling of wearing our wedding bands.

We’ve been in Nara for three months now, riding the waves of newlywed life and my visa application process (My husband is a Japanese native; I am a pale SanDiegan). Now that we’ve settled down, my hope is to update this blog more frequently.

Our wedding was a simple, frugal affair. Among the median $30,000 weddings that are the norm in LA, my husband and I wrangled our budget to about $7,000 total. We did almost everything by hand and were lucky enough to have the help of our wonderful church friends and family. From the photography to the decorations, it would not have been possible without them.

And while some say a woman’s wedding is the end of singlehood and therefore necessitates going out with a bang, had I a choice I would do it the exact same way again. As a Christian couple planning on doing an international move with the goal of eventually starting a ministry, we did not have much to spare in terms of finances, and we were able to save quite a bit of money. But more than that, through our wedding, we were able to see how loved and valued we are, and to see how the communities we had been pouring in to were 100% willing to rally around us and bless us.

Also, it rained, but that kind of just lent itself to the overall mood of the day. Rain is chic.

Photo dump below!

photos by Miku M.

just jeans & white tee

If I could, I would probably live in this outfit for about 90% of my life. The rest of it would be spent wearing flouncy, knee-length dresses and pretty bralettes under kimonos. I was watching Vanity Fair’s feature of Matthew Gray Gubler—the one where he shows off his house—and he literally has a kimono closet full of kimonos in different patterns that he just wears around the house. And I was like, that is my goal in life, to have a kimono closet so I can wear kimonos around the house.

Before I get too far off tangent, back to the outfit I would live 90% of my life in. My sister is in graphic design (studying, also freelancing) and she was working on a few summer projects that required some shooting. We set up a little makeshift studio in our 2-bedroom by pulling the IKEA fold-out couch into the bathroom and setting up a white backdrop in the living room. These shots are preliminary shots we shot on my camera goofing around; they seem sufficient for an outfit post.

I literally walked into the shoot without changing. My sister had called me short notice, so I had hi-tailed it home from the eye doctor knowing we were running out of daylight for good natural lighting. I didn’t have any time to change into something a little more editorial-worthy, so you see me here in my natural state; if you catch me on any regular day I’ll probably look like this—awkward, hair a little messy, a bit of lip color, jeans and a white tee. And socks too, I wear socks around the house. Judge me all you want; my feet get cold. PS, Madewell jeans are love.

 

Madewell Perfect Summer Jean in Fitzgerald wash | Theory white tee | Black silk tank |Lively mesh bralette in black | Adidas Superstars

Proverbs 31:25

heart room

The room where I live is a green smelling room. There is a powdery sort of warmth that I can sink into.

Most people want to curl into a ball and shrivel when they get back home, but I am the opposite.

There is just too much outside sometimes. Screaming, kicking, yelling. Catcalls that parade as compliments. Dishonesty disguised as individuality. Rocks and thorns and birds and burning, dry sun and nothing alive.

But the room where I live is a green smelling room. Flowers spring from the floors and the walls. Fresh fruit grows.

Most of all,

“Welcome home,” says He who tends the garden.

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Let’s say that your heart is a room and someone lives in it. You’re like a property owner and you’re renting the space out. The only difference is, property owners aren’t directly connected to the property they own.

You, however, are directly affected by the state of your heart, by what’s in it. Your emotions, which bleed across your thoughts and actions. Your identity. What populates your body, mind, and soul as you wake up in the morning. What seeps out of you to your surroundings as you go about your day. What weighs upon you as you go to sleep at night.

Who are you going to let live in there?

I think that’s a choice we can make.

All kinds of hopefuls line up to take residence. School. Culture. People we like. Fame. Others’ opinions of us. Grudges. Money. Sex. Pride.

Actually, they probably don’t line up. They probably barge right on in, or maybe fight each other in the doorway. Maybe we’ve all had one or more of those often rowdy and troublesome residents occupying our inner room.

The thing is, they really trash the place, don’t they? Loud and crazy in all the wrong ways. Lazy when they shouldn’t be. Partiers who have no respect for who you are–how lovingly your room was made or who it belongs to. They stay up late, yell and scream at odd hours, trash the place and refuse to clean, leave cracks and holes and horrible graffiti lies on the walls.

These manifest on you and in you. Tears, anxiety, depression, self-doubt. Panic. Being unable to trust anyone. A whole slew of things that words cannot even begin to describe. It takes a lot of time and effort to clean things up and patch up the walls.

And then there’s the one who always waits outside the door. You never see him, but he’s always there. He’s easier to see when you’ve become a bit disenchanted with all the other potential residents.

So maybe you let him in. Maybe he comes in, and he cries, looking at the horrible state your room is in. His heart breaks for you as he sees how broken yours is. But he doesn’t complain.

“How can I live in this dump??”

He never says that.

“Okay,” He says, and gladly takes up residence in your torn up room.

He starts by cleaning things up. Clean, white walls, all patched up. Trash swept away, with not a speck remaining. Safe, comforting.

And then, He plants a garden.

Sometimes, you drop by and you’re excited because you see how awesome everything is getting. After a while, you get used to it and you don’t really see the progress; and you wonder, “What’s He doing in there? Is He even in there?”

But little by little, roots are forming. They come first. And then, you start seeing flowers. They’re beautiful, and your heart starts to lighten, breathe a little. Everything looks a little brighter.

Finally, there’s fruit. It nourishes you and strengthens you.

Life’s storms come, but you’re healthy enough to weather them.

Most importantly, life flows through you and from you in all that you do. Your thoughts are nourishing, your actions are loving. You are whole. You are rooted in life–the push and pull of circumstance no longer have you swinging back and forth.

And He stays there, tending to the garden, welcoming you home, eating with you when you’re hungry and thirsty because there’s no life–nothing substantial–out there in the wilderness.

Maybe he’s knocking, right now.