Poem: Snowfall (tanka in 3 stanzas) + Hello Korea video

I like the Youtube channel, Hello Korea which allows a glimpse into living in South Korea. The creator of the channel walks around the city and countryside and films beautiful ambient scenes of rain and snowfall. My favorite clips are filmed in Buddhist temples. I love the graceful style of traditional Korean homes, love the tiled and peaked rooftops and the sliding doorways. I wish I could live in a traditional Korean home.

I think being an immigrant makes me long for the culture that my parents and ancestors lived in. It probably affects me more than my siblings because they retained the ability to speak Korean. I’ve always felt culturally lost, displaced even within my family. If I visited South Korea I think I’d be triggered by the trauma of when my family immigrated to America without me. I’d be crying everywhere, and no one would understand why. The locals would think I was crazy.

Pexels.com (this photo reminds me of my father), he inspired me to learn photography. I miss the manual camera, developing photos in a darkroom is a lost art. I’m glad I had the opportunity to study it. Coincidentally it was my photography professor who inspired me to move to the Bay Area.

Watching snow falling 
Remembering my mother
Smiling in silence
Through the sliding glass window
At the magic of crystals.

Intricate sparkles
Falling like seeds from a cloud
Water light marvel
My frozen moment with her
Photographic time capsule.

Mom wasn’t perfect
She had her moods and temper
As well as kindness
My mother understood grace
And so she embodied it.
Pexels.com, (this one reminds me of my mom and also of myself, when we were in our early twenties. I had a coat just like this). My mom and I were both raised within the standards of a critical cultural indoctrination. We were both beautiful but we didn’t know it. Hindsight is genius.

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