life goes on

Due to a lot of unforeseen circumstances that I can’t explain without writing a book, Bittersweet Monday has been on an extended hiatus. But we’re back!

This week, we had a meeting and a tour of a sound facility in Seoul, where so many great Korean movies have been mixed, including Old Boy! I was really excited about that… That’s one Korean movie all non-Koreans seem to know. And isn’t Spike Lee supposed to be doing a remake?

Despite the frustration of not being able to finish a movie that’s sooooo close, our inadvertent lag has given us time to reevaluate some unexpected scenes. Now the movie runs at 88 minutes, compared to the initial ‘final cut’ of 95 minutes. We think it’s a good length for the kind of story/movie it is. Hope the audience feels the same.

In the meantime, I have something new cooking up. I’m hoping to make my next feature in Seoul, my hometown - shooting for a summer 2013 production. I have a webpage going up soon, so stay tuned!

When the sense of loss is indelible, finding the courage to move forward can be a daunting task. But the natural movement of change can perpetuate hope, as the loud cries of grief and the quiet sleeplessness of mourning could bring about a kind of calm, previously unknown. Flowers bloom, babies grow, and memory fades.

Consciously holding onto positive recollections could fuel the push in the right direction. However, just a bit too much romanticizing could do more harm than good, stalling the growth and trapping the melancholy of what will never be again. For that reason, nostalgia could be dangerous, for the filtered perception of the past could prevent from being in the present.

Human memory fades with time. I often struggle with the idea of not being able to fully capture the important moments of my history. But perhaps this natural progression is a mechanism, hardwired in our brains to protect ourselves from obsessing over changes that are inevitable. The past shapes the present, but it does not define it. And I think what they say is true. What matters is now. 

(grandma on the right, with all of her ten grandchildren)

My grandmother was born in the 1920s to a colonized South Korea, where she not only lived through the Independence Movement (독립운동), during which she lost one of her sisters, but also survived the Korean war in the early 50s, when my mother was born as the third child and first daughter, eventually one of six children. 

In the era and culture of male domination, where female submission was an unquestionable norm, my grandmother was something out of the ordinary, an independent soul, an educated woman, changing the world one child at a time. She and my grandfather ran an orphanage for children of war and a rehabilitation center for the wounded and the handicapped - still alive today in South Korea. A woman of faith and conviction, she didn’t hesitate to continue the work on her own when she was prematurely widowed in the 70s. She remained active and influential in her community right until the end of her life.

She was a rather exact example of human humility and generosity. She was also the picture of health, a gentle yet fiery woman full of ardor, out-walking even her great-grandchildren. One of her prayers included aging with grace, where no children of hers would be burdened by her advanced age, that she would remain robust until a quiet death. Her prayers were answered. She fell suddenly but stayed alive until her children and grandchildren flew in from all over the world to gather for her last breath, which was taken in her own bed. She passed away peacefully on March 18th, 2012, surrounded by all of her children.

The sense of loss has been overwhelming at times, but the past few weeks have been more about the celebration of her amazing life and the gift of love and family she has given us. I have the privilege to call her my role model, whose firm philosophy and proactive causes have inspired and changed countless lives. I’m grateful to be a part of this family history, connected to one of the most inspirational women I’ve ever known.