Medium

Hana

Pinned

In

Mind Cafe

by

Hana

·

Jul 2

Can I Become Useless?

Knowing about deer does not make me a deer.

A stag with large antlers standing beside a road, with misty mountains and brown grass in the background.

Pinned

In

Human Parts

by

Hana

·

May 31

The Seesaw I Could Not Sit On

When I was little, I did not live with my parents. The outings I had with my mother once every few months were, back then, the biggest…

The Seesaw I Could Not Sit On

Pinned

In

The Narrative Arc

by

Hana

·

Jun 20

Can You Hear My Voice?

On writing in a language I cannot read

tiny strips of paper

In

Hello, Love

by

Hana

·

Jul 18

The Texture of Waiting

There is a letter I am waiting for.

Aerial view of golden desert sand dunes meeting dark ocean waves along a curving coastline, with light and shadow tracing the ridges of the dunes.

In

The Narrative Arc

by

Hana

·

Jul 17

The Grandmother on the Night Train

I didn’t understand a word she said. I understood everything

A blurry nighttime photo of a blue-and-red train that has arrived at a platform in Vietnam, with passengers moving toward the doors to board under bright station lights.

In

Age of Empathy

by

Hana

·

Jul 8

Could I Have Become a Singer?

On possibilities growing worn

Could I Have Become a Singer?

In

The Memoirist

by

Hana

·

Jul 7

My Parents Fought Like Mad

I hid under the piano bench

Pastel-colored clothespins on a clothesline against a bright blue sky, photographed with a soft, grainy, film-like texture.

In

Pen With Paper

by

Hana

·

Jun 29

I Kept Buying Plane Tickets

Written in Hoi An when I was twenty-nine.

Nighttime view of Hoi An, Vietnam, with lantern-lit buildings and reflections on the river.

In

Hello, Love

by

Hana

·

Jun 27

I Still Watch Beauty and the Beast, Waiting for the Prince to Give Up on Me

Tea with Chip

Several deep red roses bloom against a softly glowing, peach-colored wall.

In

The Memoirist

by

Hana

·

Jun 25

My Grandfather Died. His Baby Died Long Before.

A story about what death leaves behind

Vintage family photo of the author’s grandparents sitting outdoors behind a bed of bright red azaleas, with trees in the background.

Hana

Hana

A person of sayu — a thinker shaped by reflection. “Sayu”: Korean for contemplation on life, existence, and what it means to be human.

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