Do What I Will Never Do.

I Wanted To Pull Away From The Things That Marked My Parents As Being Different.

The Sky Was Different, Without Color, Taut And Unforgiving. But The Water Was The Most Unforgiving Thing, Nearly Black At Times, Cold Enough, I Knew, To Kill Me, Violent Enough To Break Me Apart. The Waves Were Immense, Battering Rocky Beaches Without Sand. The Farther I Went, The More Desolate It Became, More Than Any Place I'd Been, But For This Very Reason The Landscape Drew Me, Claimed Me As Nothing Had In A Long Time.

My Parents Had An Arranged Marriage, As Did So Many Other People When I Was Growing Up. My Father Came And Had A Life In The United States One Way And My Mother Had A Different One, And I Was Very Aware Of Those Things. I Continue To Wonder About It, And I Will Continue To Write About It.

Ive Inherited A Sense Of That Loss From My Parents Because It Was So Palpable All The Time While I Was Growing Up, The Sense Of What My Parents Had Sacrificed In Moving To The United States, And Yet At The Same Time, Building A Life Here And All That That Entailed.

He Owned An Expensive Camera That Required Thought Before You Pressed The Shutter, And I Quickly Became His Favorite Subject, Round-faced, Missing Teeth, My Thick Bangs In Need Of A Trim. They Are Still The Pictures Of Myself I Like Best, For They Convey That Confidence Of Youth I No Longer Possess, Especially In Front Of A Camera.