a blog post about my summer internship

Published post here. 

As the summer draws to a close, I’ve been forced to reflect on the twelve weeks I’ve spent at Altitude as an engineering intern. In a few weeks, I’ll be returning the Massachusetts Institute of Technology to start my senior year. I study mechanical engineering and product design, and am also hoping to complete a minor in anthropology.

Transitioning from MIT to Altitude involved a bit of culture shock. For the past three years, including my prior internship at Northrop Grumman, I have had technical problem solving skills pounded into my head. When given a difficult problem on homework or an exam, I’ve been trained to blast my way through them, equipped with scientific principles, equations, and sheer determination. Getting to the answer is undeniably satisfying, regardless of the frustration, self-doubt, and sleepless nights that come before it.

Design thinking is the antithesis of this brute force attitude. At Altitude, I have learned to take steps back, instead of bashing my way forward. I’ve re-learned the critical question of minds that don’t think they already know everything—why? I’ve learned to question assumptions and traditions for a deeper understanding. Here, I’ve learned to give myself context and reasoning for which questions hold valuable answers, instead of trying to solve all of them just because they’re there.

To summarize important insights that I want to take with me back to MIT, I’ve divided the lessons I’ve learned into three categories.

1)  Empathy is crucial: Technical skills can only take a product so far. I’ve seen incredible technology placed in products, but do not effectively solve the right problem. Being able to understand and empathize with the end user is an invaluable skill. No matter who the user is, being able to design with those people in mind will help make the product more usable, more adoptable, and more successful. Thoughtful engineering is critical, but well executed user centered design is what makes a product stand out.

2)  Effective problem solving requires flexible thinking: I touched on the differences between what I’ve learned at MIT and what I’ve learned at Altitude earlier, but a strong engineer or designer has to be able to do both. There is a delicate balance between the big picture and minute details, but both have to be kept in mind. MIT has given me the hard skills, but Altitude has helped me learn where to apply them. Being here has also taught me to not get too attached to my work, no matter how long or hard I worked on it. Ideas change frequently in the iterative design process, and letting personal bias into the work only bogs down this process.

3)  Don’t be afraid to speak: This is the biggest personal lesson I have learned during my time here. “Imposter syndrome” is a common feeling shared among students from top universities, and I was definitely a sufferer. I spent the majority of my first two years at MIT questioning whether or not I deserved to be there. I never felt this way at Altitude. The open and collaborative environment gave me constant opportunities to quench my curiosity and share my own insights. The positive and encouraging responses from my co-workers encouraged me to speak without reservation, even during meetings with intimidating clients.

These twelve weeks have had a significant impact on the way I view the world around me. It helped me discover meaning in my insatiable curiosity. It forced me to question my education and to find the value in it. It forced me to embrace my strengths and work on my weaknesses, with the support of a welcoming interdisciplinary team. Ultimately, being at Altitude has trained me think more critically about how to become a better student, a better engineer, a better designer, and a better human.

a simple story of a saturday night

“I’m so into you, I can barely breathe
And all I wanna do is to fall in deep
But close ain’t close enough ‘til we cross the line, baby
So name a game to play, and I’ll roll the dice, hey”

We are on Massachusetts Ave, crossing the bridge from Boston into Cambridge. We are talking about Ariana Grande and trying to decide whether we love or hate her. Everything is perfect on this clear summer night, and the reflection of the city lights on the Charles and the sound of laughter in the car only makes everything better. It was a moment I knew I would be nostalgic for later in life, even though I still don’t have a word for that. I register consecutive green lights, chalking it up to my luck, since those lights at the end of the bridge were rarely ever green at the right time.

Suddenly, I sense headlights out of my left peripheral view. My foot, already on the gas pedal, slams down reflexively. I hear a deafening crash of grinding metal and the car begins to spin. I smash my head into the driver side window, cushioned by the side airbags of the Zipcar. We come to a stop, 180 degrees from our original orientation. I register swirls of smoke, a toxic scent, warning lights from my dashboard, and three coherent voices around me talking to emergency response before I put my head down on the steering wheel, wondering if I had misjudged somewhere, wondering if this was all my fault. I suddenly hear concerned voices and feel a hand on my shoulder, snapping me back to the reality of the situation. There was a new sound now, though. An angry sound.

“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU FUCKING BITCH. RUNNING A RED LIGHT IN YOUR FUCKING ZIPCAR? I HAD THE GREEN BITCH, I HAD THE GREEN. I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU. GET OUT OF THE FUCKING CAR, I SWEAR I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS CAR IS? DO YOU FUCKING KNOW? GET OUT OF THE FUCKING CAR.”

This is accompanied by pounding on the window and door, although we can’t see anything because the ejected airbags obstruct the windows. Someone out there tries to pull open my door before I am able to pull it shut and lock it, my left arm trembling uncontrollably with the exertion. I register how terrified I feel and how apocalyptic this scene is. Cars stop and people stare, probably mostly at the woman yelling obscenities at me and beating on the window. It is only now that I recognize a radio voice in the car. The Zipcar representative has been trying to talk to me, but I let my friend in the passenger seat handle it as I hold onto my door and my consciousness. 

A few long minutes later, police arrive at the scene, demanding that I open my door to get out of the car. Still trembling, I muster up the strength to stand up, wondering what I would be facing outside the “safety” of this vehicle. The officer looks at the screaming young woman and back to me. Her friends are holding her back now, telling her that she’s just in shock. She stares at me with murder in her eyes, but I can’t look away. 

“Sit on the curb,” commands the police officer. My head hurts and I’m disoriented, but I wonder at his tone. I look down and consider the scene as a drag myself towards the curb. I was the driver of a rental car full of 21 year olds, dressed nicely after a night out, and there was a woman who was wailing with conviction that I was in the wrong. It doesn’t look great. I explain to him, surprising myself with my calmness and coherency, that I had the green light and she had driven straight in a right turn only lane. I pointed at the intersection I had crossed hundreds of times in my last three years at MIT. She may have had a green light, but the green light was for the right turn. Under no traffic condition do cars cross straight across the bridge. He understands the situation better now, and tells me he’s going to talk to the other party. I ask him if someone could stay with me, my voice straining with fear as her screaming continues to echo in my throbbing head.

He says not to worry, and leaves me there on the side of the bridge. Cars pass by slowly, drivers’s heads swiveling like owls to stare at the wreckage. I shake uncontrollably. My friends are pulled out of the car and directed to join me on the side. The friend sitting directly behind me suffered some whiplash, but we’re remarkably calm. I stare at the pieces of metal beneath my feet and my brain bounces between how lucky yet unlucky we were. I seek out warmth in the arms of my roommate, but my trembling doesn’t stop. The flashing police lights make my brain pulse. As we sit, we hear the police explaining to the other driver that she had been at fault. There were 5 signs indicating that only right turns were permitted from that lane. She finally quiets down. Passing drivers and pedestrians are still staring.  

The ambulance had apparently been called at the time of the accident, but it takes three follow-up calls before it finally arrives. My whiplashed friend and I are guided into the ambulance by two nonchalant young men. One of them takes my vitals and examines my eyes. He asks me whether I want to go to the hospital, but I don’t know what to say. I think, aren’t you supposed to know what would be helpful? He shrugs a few times. I say I will go, mostly because there is no way I trust this guy to tell if there is anything seriously wrong with me. We drive to Cambridge Hospital, the driver seemingly incognizant of the fact that he has a whiplashed and a potentially concussed patient in the back of his vehicle. It takes a great deal of effort to hold down the nausea, but I send a few calm texts to my brother and boyfriend, not sure what to say about the situation other than that we’re all mostly unscathed. 

We are checked into the hospital and assigned a large double room. A nice nurse comes to talk to us eventually, noting our symptoms and condition. Time passes in a swirl. I have no idea what time it is. I’m still shaking, and my roommate has to manage panicked texts from various people for me. The doctor comes to examine us, and decides that we’ll need to get our head and neck checked out to make sure there isn’t serious damage. Another nurse comes back to wheelchair me out to get a CAT scan. The bed is uncomfortable, the back half of my head is pounding, and my tremors are so severe I wonder if they’ll be able to see anything in the scan at all. He does the scan twice—once for my head, once for neck. Once I’m wheeled back into the bright double room, I wrap myself in blankets and wait. I’m incredibly grateful that two of my friends are completely fine. We talk about other ER experiences and laugh. Apparently, our spirits cannot be dampened by this event, and that warms me greatly.

The doctor comes back twice after. Once to tell us that they have to send the scans out to get read off-site, and again to tell us that everything is normal and that we will be fine. He tells us to take 800mg of ibuprofen three times a day and to get plenty of rest. That seems like a lot of medicine to me, but I just want to go home, although the thought of getting in another car isn’t too appealing. We answer a few questions for the nurse. I’m deeply comforted as I remember and recite my social security number, home address and zip code, and my mom’s phone number, although my head throbs at the effort. 

We ask the Uber driver to drive carefully, and he does a great job. I zone out during the ride, flashbacks of the incoming car lights and screaming woman still pounding in my head. The next thing I know, I’m inside of my apartment. It’s about 3am. My roommate tells me this is the best birthday she’s ever had. I shouldn’t be surprised by her endless stream of positivity anymore, but I still am. For a second, I think about other outcomes that could’ve resulted from this scenario, and I shiver. 

I want nothing more than to be clean, so I take a slow shower, brush my teeth, wash my face, and dry my hair. I realize how hungry I am. We had eaten dinner more than eight hours ago. I eat some yogurt before I realize I already brushed my teeth. I wonder if this has anything to do with the accident, but I’m too tired to give it more thought. I brush my teeth again. 

I climb into bed but cannot find a comfortable position for my throbbing head. I’m told the next days would be significantly worse, but for now, I can only be grateful. I still can’t decide whether I’m lucky or unlucky, but I think I’ll go with lucky. 

you were never alone

I'll start off with a feel good song for a feel good post. 

Summer minutes are dwindling fast. This summer has probably been the most rewarding summer I've ever had. I'm consistently happy for the first time for as long as I can remember. This doesn't mean that everything is perfect, but I am extremely satisfied with the progress I'm making in all aspects of my life, and incredibly grateful for the people around me. 

Reflections on the Red Line T.

I have time to work on most of the things I want to do outside of work. I've been making time to read, write, play guitar, and spend valuable time with the people I love. 

I'm flexing my photographic eye constantly now. For the first time since last summer, I'm interested enough in the world around me to seize moments I used to pass on. I stop. I breathe. I shoot. 

Aggressively confused squirrel in Boston Common.

Golden hour never looked so fake.

I've found my 50/50 introverted/extroverted self a good balance of personal and social time. Although sometimes it would be good to have friends...like when I wanted to take a photo of someone in this beautiful lighting...

This is a summer I'll never forget, and a summer I know I'll be nostalgic for for years to come. There should be a word for that...knowing that you'll be nostalgic for something before it's even passed. I have 3 weeks left, and I hope to make the most of it. 

shake it like a polaroid picture

Relevant cover of Outkast's "Hey Ya" :) 

Instant film has captured my attention since the first Polaroid iZone camera my brother had when we were kids. Watching the image develop before my eyes was an unforgettable experience, even though the pictures were tiny and really poor quality.

After getting into analog photography, I would inevitably make a tangent into the instant film world. I got a Polaroid OneStep at a flea market for a few dollars during my senior year of high school. The Impossible Project was expensive, but I shot 3 packs of 600 film with that camera before the roller deteriorated and image quality became unpredictable. I eventually donated the camera to the photography club at school.

During my freshman year of college, I bought a Polaroid Land 450 on a whim off of eBay. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into—I just knew that peel film was cheap (at the time), and there was a near cult following of the Land series cameras. When I received it, I was appalled at how massive and brick-like the thing was, but then I shot with it. The images were unique. Sharp and soft at the same time. There was a distinct quality to the FP-100c that I couldn’t quite capture, but I loved peel film. I loved peel film so much that it was all I shot for a while. Despite the size and weight of the Land, I carried it with me daily. People would stare at me on the street, but it didn’t matter. The camera was magic. I even tried to design one. 

As time went on, I wanted to try other pack film cameras. I obtained a Polaroid EE100 Special, which was a lot like the Land but built from plastic and much lighter. This used a zone focusing system instead of the Land rangefinder, so the photos came out a bit blurrier, usually. It was still an incredible camera.

In 2016, FP-100c was officially discontinued by Fujifilm. I was indescribably sad. I sold my cameras, sold my film, and didn’t take photos for a very long time. I thought about stocking up on FP-100c and continuing my use of the wonderful film, but it seemed to be holding on too hard to something that I could see the bitter end of. I couldn’t do it. 

I bought a Fuji Instax Mini camera to tinker with—the colors of Fuji Instax are vivid and beautiful, but it’s a modern type of aesthetic. It’s fun, it’s cheap, and I enjoy shooting with it, but something was missing. 

While on vacation in Vancouver, BC last year, my aunt handed me a “surprise”. It was a brand new Polaroid Spectra, in box with original receipt. It was purchased while on vacation in Japan in the 90’s, and never used. I was dumbfounded. And then excited. Spectra cameras are known for their level of control, and the wide frames were suitable for my landscape vision. 

When I was purchasing a system, I opted for the Land cameras over the Spectra due to the cost of film, but I am now embracing the Spectra with Impossible film. It’s expensive ,yes, but I have fewer options now. The Spectra is light, fun to shoot with, capable of multiple exposures, and the color of IP film is quite interesting. There’s black and white and color options.

I’ve looked at Mint cameras, SX-70’s, and Lomography options, but I’ve decided to stick with the Spectra. It came from the family, and there’s something very bonding about that. Maybe it’s the sense of nostalgia or irreplaceability. It's also a spectacular (ha) camera. 

This is where I stand now in my journey through instant photography, but I’m looking forward to where my curiosities will take me (and my wallet, potentially…) next. 

sand sculpture beach day

Spent the afternoon at Revere Beach admiring the outcomes of the International Sand Sculpting Festival. The sun was quite brutal and the beach was ridiculously packed, but these unique works of art were awesome! 

Ended the beach day finishing Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell. What a well-woven book... 

the list goes on

I don’t pretend to know more about current events than I do, and I definitely don’t know as much as I should. I struggle to keep up, and admittedly, sometimes I turn a blind eye to avoid thinking about the cold hard facts. This is a privilege I have, and a privilege I recognize. 

Attacks in Baghdad, Bangladesh, Afghanistan, Syria, Iraq, Nigeria, Somalia, Turkey, and France in July alone should convey the chaos of the world, but do not even begin to scratch the surface of everything that is wrong. Social equality, racial tensions, poverty, terrorism—these terms do not convey the sense of hopelessness felt by people everywhere, nor do these terms come close to covering the plethora of issues prevalent on this planet. I’m not the best source of this type of information, and I don’t claim to be, so I’ll leave this as it is. 

This weekend, my classmate, Drew Esquivel, was killed on the street by a drunk driving NYPD officer. I didn’t know Drew well, but I had been around him long enough to put a personality to the name, and I cannot shake the sense of loss. This was the same feeling I had when my multivariable calculus classmate, Phoebe Wang, lost her life during the first semester of sophomore year. This was how I felt freshman year of high school, when a senior, Aydin Salek, lost his life. These names haunt me, because glimmers of their personalities are etched into my brain. Like many others who have had their lives even briefly scraped by these individuals (and countless others), I can only wish I had the privilege of knowing them more—to wonder about their lives, their interests, their deepest thoughts, their biggest dreams. 

Maybe it is the location, the social proximity, the timing, or the fact that it was completely driven by another individual’s blind stupidity, but I cannot get the incident out of my head. I’ve had important lives taken from me “before their time.” I grew up immersed in loss, yet this seems so different. I’ve always tried to live by the philosophy to never save things for the “right” moment, to never take things for granted, to never miss an opportunity to show people how much they mean to me, to be kind to people even if there isn’t a “reason” to be. And although I’ve been able to do all of these things to an extent, they now seem so inadequate. I’ve never lived in a time when a missed call or slow text responses send me into slight panicked thoughts. I’ve never dreaded the loading of the news page or worried so much about people not immediately in my proximity. I’m a believer that positive thoughts hold some sort of power, but it’s becoming harder and harder to maintain these thoughts with everything that is happening. Sometimes I just have to stop and take deep breaths (and splurge my thoughts of how much people mean to me at them, hoping that they’ll realize even a fraction of what I feel). 

The most overwhelming part of this is that this was one incident that affected me so much because it was too close for comfort. However, there are incidents every day, all over the world. Some of them undocumented, some of them lost in flurry of what media deems most important, some of them completely overlooked. There are shootings, bombings, murders, and these are only the issues that remove lives from earth. There are diseases, gross inequalities, hateful attacks, poverty issues, environmental issues, structural issues…the list goes on. The list goes on. And that’s what feels the most helpless. No matter what issues we decide to focus on or put on efforts towards or even spend a moment of our days thinking about, there is always more. The list goes on. 

I didn’t write this to find solace, although I was hoping it would sort out some of my relentless stream of thoughts. I don’t think it did, but that’s okay. I am not looking away from the cold hard facts right now. 

For now, all I can do is truly cherish every moment of the people around me. To take the time and effort to really get to know people as individuals, to see what makes each person unique, and to truly sense how much the world would lose without them here. 

So to the people reading this, and I know who you are, I love you. You are each meaningful to me in drastically different ways, but each of you have supported me, believed in me, loved me, and had some part in getting me to where I am today. I can only hope to have done (and continue to do the same) for each of you. 

teamwork makes the dreamwork

I spent the past weekend in New York in the company of someone who never ceases to surprise me. I'm honestly not a huge fan of New York, but this weekend was pretty fat, lovely, and unforgettable. 

Of course the first thing seen is a tragically abandoned baby doll at an intersection... We got lunch at Terri, a vegan/kosher fast food restaurant. I had the buffalo chicken sandwich. Strawberry smoothie very on point. 

We wandered around a few museums, but sadly no photos. Highline! 

Dinner was eaten at Palà Pizza. Nice pizza place with delicious vegan options in a garage? Seems very New York. 

After dinner and a bit of wandering, we arrived at Brooklyn Bridge Park (I think?) right at sundown. It was misty, foggy, and a little bit eerie, but city lights at night are always awe-inspiring. So are vegan maple donuts. 

The day ended in torrential disgusting New York downpour. I had a "rain jacket" but it really didn't do anything. Shoes were soaked, pants were soaked, backpack was soaked, but spirits could not be ruined. 

Day 2 began in Chinatown, on a mission to consume all the vegan dimsum. 

So much deliciousness. Post food-coma was spent at B&H Photo nerding out about all the camera things (the Fujifilm X-Pro2 is so beautiful wow). Short pitstop in Central Park. 

The walk from Central Park towards the bus stop on 34th was filled with chai tea, sky shots, and Blossom du Jour. 

Quite a wonderful weekend, thank you New York (but not really New York, except the food maybe). 

details in the fabric

Just a quick update on daily photographic experiences from my daily commute to work. Also, this Wye Oak song makes me really happy.

step one: wake up, now open your eyes / now float to the window, open the blinds

“Thick-skinned chameleon
Climbs the curtains hanging on the wall;
The only living ghost to grace the hall.

Meanwhile on the battlefield,
Another soldier boldly bites his tongue;
The only noble thing he’s ever done.

Step one: wake up,
Now open your eyes,
Now float to the window,
Open the blinds,
Now nevermind
The cold shiver on your over-exposed spine
Still lying on the bed where you left it,
Soaking up the sleep from the mattress.

And that’s it;
Feel your way to the kitchen,
Bring the milk to a simmer,
Spill the sugar on the surface of the counter,
Thin-skinned calcium sipper.”

— "Milk" by Sea Oleena

As I delve deeper into the melodic rhythm of summer, I find myself frequently pulled back to the nostalgically carefree summers of early high school. It was there, in my muted yellow room of a sunny Southern California townhouse, that I began to discover some of the many things in this world that intrigue me.

Although “carefree,” my summer days were not spent lounging around in the traditional sense of the word. Those unstructured minutes were valuable, and since the first summer before my graceless entrance into high school, I vowed to make the most of them.

What did I do?

I’ve asked myself this question quite often recently. Working a typical 9-5:30 job, I’m granted a limited number of hours to pursue my own goals this summer. After commuting home, resting my brain, cooking, and unwinding, I have around four to five hours to distribute among my endless curiosities and pursuits (assuming I want a decent amount of sleep). 

Although some summers are more vivid than others, these are things I remember focusing on most during high school:

1) Photography: I spent countless hours researching rangefinders, learning about exposure, hunting at Goodwill, wandering around my house looking for the next interesting strike of light, blogging, taking apart cameras, failing at putting them back together etc. It was through this process that I began to learn the difference between looking and seeing.

2) Music: I honestly cannot remember the first song that made me realize that music was capable of invoking indescribable feelings, but *Milk* is as good as any other one. Discovering Sea Oleena was life-changing, even if it just meant I started spending hours of my day scrounging YouTube, Bandcamp, and Soundcloud for the next "Youth", "Smoking Books", or "Paris".

3) Books: Reading has always been one of my favorite past times, but summer is when books would make me lose all sense of time, space, and (almost) consciousness. Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk realized my fascination with what I call “trippy fiction” and eventually led to my love of Murakami's work. Jonathan Safran Foer made me re-question my dietary choices in Eating Animals. I read a lot of John Green, although I’m not sure why. Stieg Larsson’s The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo may hold my record for fastest time burning through a series.

4) Movies: I watched a lot of movies alone. Black Swan. 127 Hours. Blue Valentine. Shawshank Redemption. IMDB was basically my homepage, and I tried to watch anything and everything I found interesting. Despite the stigma of watching movies alone, I feel that a lot of my visual language in photography is derived from the cinematographic observations from those movies that I absorbed alone.

5) Basketball: I definitely couldn’t forget this one. Most of the twilight hours were spent on the outdoor courts of my high school, trying to make 100 shots in a row, working on post moves, training my left hand, or just basking in comfort of the breezy sunsets. My basketball "career" was plagued with accidents and physical injuries, but nothing taught me how to battle pain more thoroughly than my love for that sport. 

Maybe this doesn’t sound so interesting anymore…They seem like very typical hobbies. Maybe so, but I find that each of these hobbies have made a significant impact on who I am today. The books I’ve read, the movies I’ve watched, the songs I’ve heard, and the discipline I’ve learned on the basketball court never leave me. I learned that summer minutes are indispensable.

This summer, no longer blessed with the long unstructured days of pre-real-human-life, the stockpile of minutes is much smaller. I’m constantly being forced to choose. Should I play more guitar, hoping to finally nail "Cherry Wine"? Should I watch the next episode of Planet Earth? Should I read the next chapter of Cloud Atlas? Should I listen to an episode of Radiolab? Should I write? Should I get dinner with the close friend I haven’t seen in a few weeks? Should I go play basketball?

Traditionally, I’ve mapped out my summers by what I want to accomplish quantitatively—read 10 books, finish my summer assignments by July 15th, play guitar for an hour a day, etc. This summer, I’m trying to think abstractly about my goals, and find more comprehensive steps to get there. Instead of focusing on activities, I’m centering my focus on five aspects of myself that I want to work on. At the risk of sounding like an airy self-help blog, here they are: 

1) Empathy: By definition, empathy means the ability to understand share the feelings of another person or being. The ability to truly place oneself in another's shoes is one of the qualities I admire most in other people, and something that I am constantly working on. Luckily for me, I spend a significant percentage of my work days working on this, trying to understand people's problems, what they want, what they need, what makes them happy, what makes them sad, what makes them frustrated etc. Applying this same type of emotional awareness to people around me has helped me become more understanding on many fronts. 

2) Forgiveness: This is related to empathy, but different. I am very hard on myself, constantly. It's easy for me to blame myself for things that aren't really within my control, question my abilities, and be harsh towards myself in general. It can be motivating at times, but as a whole, it causes a lot of unnecessary pressure and unhappiness. This summer, I'm learning to forgive myself for mistakes, to be gentler on myself, and to fully understand that failing is necessary for growth and development. 

3) Mindfulness: A big mistake I made this past school year was not taking the time to reflect on some aspects of my life. I found meaning in my school work, but the quality of many of my relationships became questionable. Writing is my favorite form of introspection, and I'm making more time to put my thoughts to paper (or pixels). Podcasts have been helpful in this process of finding mental clarity--I especially enjoyed TED Radio Hour's "Nudge" episode. Maybe I'll write about that one another time. Mindfulness also includes thinking about my role in the world in a broader sense (hence the interest in Planet Earth). 

4) Health: My health is something I've always tried to prioritize. Whether this category involves food, exercise, or sleep, I want to actively make sure that my health does not suffer due to all of my other commitments and goals. I'm making an effort to learn how to cook new deliciously healthy foods, play basketball more often, go biking, and to sleep a restful number of hours each night. Without health, most other things become meaningless.

5) Creativity: As demonstrated by my high school list of five, I find fulfillment in creativity. This could be interpreting someone else's creative outputs (movies, books, music) or creating my own (photography, music, drawing, writing, graphic design). I'm trying to find a balance of both and to derive more personal motivation from other people's work. Lately, I've been inspired by the musical hobbyists on Soundcloud--they might not have many listeners, but that doesn't make their music any less magical than some big names on Spotify. Instagram serves a similar purpose for photography. I think it's been important emphasize the belief that any "ordinary" person is capable of creative genius. This is why I'm blogging, and this is why I've been inspired to take more photos again. 

These are my "goals" of the summer, if you want to call them that. They could also be my five Islands of Personality, a la Pixar's Inside Out. These thoughts were all triggered by the song that started this post. The line "step one, wake up now open you eyes, now float to the window, open the blinds" always reminds me that actions are sequential. Overall tasks might be overwhelming, but if you break apart even the largest goals into achievable steps, everything becomes much easier. Not bad for a song about milk, really. 

If you're still here and wondering why there are random images throughout this post, these are various images from my summers at home, hunting around my house for interesting subjects.

Thanks for reading. :) 

hi, hi, hi

A bit more than a week ago, I took a brief weekend trip to Maui to attend my mother's wedding (congrats, Mama :) ). Aside from the brutally long flights, it was quite a refreshing change from the daily life in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The first thing my brother and I noticed coming off the flight was how much slower the pace of life was on the island. We were used to the hustle mentality of the East Coast, and had to consciously take everything down a few notches (driving, walking, talking etc.). 

Our first stop off the flight was Choice, a raw vegan restaurant known for their acai bowls. 

Since the wedding was the purpose of the trip and we both couldn't stay longer, my brother and I had very little time to explore Maui. We managed to squeeze in some tanning, stargazing, and The Road to Hana.

Stargazing in Hawaii was quite an indescribable experience. Sitting in the convertible Mustang with the top down on a clear night with Gallant's Ology blasting on the speakers was something out of a dream. I don't really know what else to say about it, except that everyone deserves to experience something like that at some point in their lives.

“I was a pauper
Fickle and bruised
Wishing I could atomize these lonely lunar views
But with thorns in my ankles
And rocks in my shoes
I weather through”

— Gallant, "Oh, Universe"

Another Gallant song, but this one is my favorite: 

We parked in a roadside turnout and I made my first attempt at astrophotography. I had my Gorillapod and my X100T, but no remote shutter release so I had to hold the camera as steady as I could for more than a minute. Rain was falling sporadically, but the skies remained clear enough to capture this. 

Our next Maui experience was The Road to Hana. We got the GyPSy Drive Tour app which was worth every cent--we definitely would have missed a lot of subtleties of the journey without it. I realized this might have been my first rainforest experience. The rain came and went in seconds, drenching us within seconds and revealing the beautiful blue sky within the next minute. The intense heat and humidity didn't help the being drenched situation, but by the end of it, I didn't really care. Each viewpoint made me question reality, and made me realize (as traveling always does) how little of the world I've seen. 

As we were driving, my brother also mentioned "that Tumblr quote," which I will include here:

“The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.
”

— Isak Dineson

This is indeed a very "Tumblr" quote, but it still seemed relevant at the time. Maybe because I was in the ocean sweating from the heat and crying at the beauty of it all, or something like that. 

We encountered waterfalls, bamboo forests, an abundance of mangoes, and incredible coastal views. We also saw some large spiders and mongooses...I guess that's what you get in the rainforest. I'll let photos do the talking here. 

My time in Maui was sadly short, but I find it hard to believe that I won't return there at some point. For now, I'm back in good old Cambridge, excited for more summer adventures. 

Entire photo collection here

rediscovering, repurposing

I’ve been pretty AWOL from my blog (and photography in general) for a while now. Part of it was the chaos of schoolwork, part of it was the loss of vision. I haven’t been happy with my photos for a while now, mostly due to the neglect. I’ve been trapped in a bit of a haze, and I’m hoping summer will fix this. 

The discontinuation of FP-100C was unexpectedly disheartening. I had begun to view the world around me with a Land camera filter, almost. Despite the size and weight of those cameras, they were the cameras that I carried with me and ached to shoot with. I sold both my EE100s and Land 450 after the film was discontinued. I didn’t want to be attached to something that didn’t exist anymore. 

I felt like I retreated into a shell after that. I took photos now and then, but I stopped bringing cameras with me everywhere, stopped looking, and most importantly, stopped taking photos even when I noticed something worthwhile. I ignored my eye and my instincts. As a result, I ignored a big aspect of myself. 

I find joy in the little things, the very things that make me pause in the incessant flutter of time to inhale the present and exhale my worries. Photography is my form of expression, but it’s also my form of introspection. 

I have a lot of goals this summer—gain some more guitar skills, read a variety of books, become more confident in my sketching, and find myself again. Undoubtedly, that process will be closely tied to photography. I’ll be posting a lot more from now on—I’m excited, and I can only hope that you are too. :) 

A photo of a plant outside of my office for the summer. It's heavily underexposed, but I was trying to invoke the sense of eeriness and emptiness that I was feeling. 

A common scene on my 30 minute walk to/from work through Somerville. The sky was particularly beautiful today. 

motivation and purpose; memories are the best things i ever had

I've had a photo blog since the first day I decided I wanted to become a better photographer. This was 2010, I was a freshman in high school, and I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. The blog is titled "Memories Were the Best Things We Ever Had", a mantra from Ben Howard's "Old Pine" that has resonated with me since the first time I heard it. 

Since its inception, I posted nearly all of my acceptable photos onto that blog. Some of my scattered thoughts made it onto there as well. Last week, I officially ran out of storage space on my Wordpress. I accidentally deleted around 40 images to make space for new ones, but I realized I was unwilling to replace my old photos with new ones--after all, memories were the best things we ever had. Therefore, I'm moving my blog to this little nook on my personal website. I probably will not be posting all of my acceptable photos anymore, but I am hoping to write more about product design, personal experiences, and the little things in life. 

I've always had a hard time balancing my love and appreciation for well-designed products and my desire to keep my life as materially simple as possible. Even though I'll be writing about cool products and objects, please believe me when I say that memories will always be the best things I ever had.