yellow citizen

a carol centering ease-indigenity-queerness

aroma of meal and dinner with a dear friend full of wisdom, compassion, humor:

life is many sense-flavors-movements including bitter. one of the strongest balancing reminders.  our medicine is strong and close to land.

wanna heal?

wel-come in prayer.

re-lax in re-turn-ing. all’s miraculous.  just watch your xin 🙂

恭喜發財!happy lunar new year! 夢月光下~


howl at the moon

climb these mountains

sing in the lovers language

to na-noon

happy lunar new year of the dog! grin, stay wild and loyal to what feeds you well.  run along and never chase because the dogs and cats are the real 土地公s ❤

2.6.2018 花蓮地震: hualien earthquake

on these strangely cold days in taiwan, the neighbors come to this little oceanside cafe run by a brother (a veteran of the republic of china air force)  and sister (a veteran of commerce in the city) to talk of freezing taipei and the other places they travel from.  it’s getting closer and closer to lunar new year and people are trying to get their travels in before the end.  i’ve come to this little village between two places stricken by the ills of airbnb led commercialization.  daily, i wake in a pod of remade cement tubes, hearing waves caressing the stones of the seashore.  my fang tooth aches in the chill, the clouds drift slowly, the smoke of the iron pot burning salt drenched driftwood curls in the sweet, sharp way as green island fades in and out of foggy view.

…r.i.p. studio ghibli film living.  tell me something, if you heard of an aquarius with four cats running an empty cafe, filled with thwarted dreams and depression, grousing at any customer who ventures in…doesn’t that sound like a grandma lesbian? 


alas, alas!  an anti-queer cis-dude strikes again and upends a beautiful country dream. anti-queer sentiments stay strong with confucian patriarchy in east Taiwan.

anyways, the coffee tastes better with the smell of the sea, na-Noon, beautifully blue.

2 years ago, same date, an earthquake struck Tainan, almost the same magnitude, killing many with shoddy construction.  thankfully, with the improved safety measures and hualien’s architecture built to expect tremors, this earthquake seems to have yielded less deaths. my aunt in hualien, who’s ok, says they’re continuing to feel 餘震 aftershocks.

as a monk once advised me, this world is a reflection of our collective xin.  it’s splitting all the time in Taiwan.  and looks like the economic landscape is just as volatile, according to Carl Icahn.

prayers for creative 團圓 amidst tragedy. even with few human deaths, what’s lost, the weight of what we’ve built poorly, the harmony of homes…right as everyone gathers for the lunar new year…spirits be strong, sing the songs of sweet gatherings.



Women by Louise Bogan, Body of this Death (1923)

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Where do you wish to grow?


call them Bailang because this is what the rapacious Han do.

“Among the many supporters at the camp is Savungaz Valincian of the Indigenous Youth Front, who says: “After the area of the traditional territory is decided, under this regulation, it won’t be the property of Indigenous people, it only gives the right of consent and there are limits to what we can decide. We won’t have the final say over what will happen on our lands.”

While Truku indigenous, as with other indigenous communities, should by constitutional law hold the rights to their land, oftentimes it is that Taiwanese business take advantages of legal loopholes to appropriate indigenous land for commercial development, sometimes with the backing of the local government.

Been observing the ways they go around scamming this land.  The casual commercialization and inconsideration of beauty. Unsurprisingly, they are opportunistic about queerness, indigeneity, tea, youth labor, the eastern shore.  We see the president dole out countless meaningless apologies and conciliatory actions towards Asia Cement Corp. as they continue mining Truku land, sending in police to clear out the protestors whose leader supported her candidacy and now is left with heartbreak.  I’ve met an environmental academic professor who taught in Cheng Gung University for years and now, exposes his resentment towards his wife and the feminine by seeking out an experience in Christianity and Buddhism–instead of reckoning with his own inner life.  I’ve met an Asian American academic come to Taiwan to learn Chinese and throw toxic temper tantrums when women around him don’t serve his needs for sex, intimacy, spirituality, sensuality.  I’ve watched a tea commerce lady try to sell her wares for Harney & Sons prices without any international reach or quality to compete, while trying to rope me in with the “family” business angle when her own family is clearly uncommunicative and her kids mentally dead with resentment and lack of resiliency. I’ve watched pyramid schemes make their way to the countryside because the city folks passed laws to ban them.

how utterly uncreative, boring and dismal.  these scams are so similar around the world.


Rest in Power

Ursula K. LeGuin 10.22.1921 ~ 1.22.2018

2014 National Book Awards Speech

Hard times are coming, when we’ll be wanting the voices of writers who can see alternatives to how we live now, can see through our fear-stricken society and its obsessive technologies to other ways of being, and even imagine real grounds for hope. We’ll need writers who can remember freedom – poets, visionaries – realists of a larger reality.

Right now, we need writers who know the difference between production of a market commodity and the practice of an art.

Books aren’t just commodities; the profit motive is often in conflict with the aims of art. We live in capitalism, its power seems inescapable – but then, so did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begin in art. Very often in our art, the art of words.

…We who live by writing and publishing want and should demand our fair share of the proceeds; but the name of our beautiful reward isn’t profit. Its name is freedom.


spotting amerikana