days of being (in the) wild

my soul left hong kong but it still often comes up in conversation, usually with me saying 'yeah it was crazy' without further explanation followed by a credit length run of [uncomfortable laughter and/or short spasms] as the person i'm talking to tries to figure out if i'm sincere or deranged. tell me this isn't crazy:

• working 48 hours straight, finally breaking down at 3am and hailing a cab home. worst is when you try to find solace in others they will out-work you like 'well i worked 118 hours this week/haven't eaten since monday/fucked up a billion dollar sale' and you know what they've said is true, because this is hong kong.

• hiking to the infinity pool in man cheung po. hot tip: there is an infinity pool on top of the infinity pool.

• walking into a drug deal and the buyer pretending i was his friend so the dealer wouldn't murder me. juan diablo (the fake name juan diablo who clearly looked more like a 'dante' or 'levi' gave) probably wouldn't have murdered me because he also carried pizza deliveries on his vespa. people with vespas take you on romantic dates through the cobblestones of rome before convincing you to take the place of their singing collaborator at the italian music awards and despite what was sabotage, helps you actualise the confidence you have within.

• going to all the concerts phoenix/jamesblake/justin bieber/every other musician who landed in hong kong because one of my greatest friends was always given free tickets by his superiors to compensate how little he was paid for his actual job.

• being genuinely joyful and laughing on shoots with diane von fursteberg, olivier rousting, and other super inspirations i met.

• allowing a girl i crossed paths with once to crash at my apartment for the night. she ended up staying for four days, taking my headphones and a few hundred dollars when she reluctantly left. months later police call in and i find out she's a homeless runaway amongst other things i can not repeat.

• mongkok on a saturday.

• lethargy that never goes away.

• spending several consecutive days on a yacht with a friend island hopping. it was like groundhog day, some days we picked up his acquaintances at central pier but would do the exact same things, visit the same places, eat the same food, at the same time. lots of writers and investors talking scripts and real estate, and when they didn't have anything else to say they would ask me if i have ever thought about dating someone the age of my dad and being able to travel wherever i want without financial worry. which prompted me to throw up overboard and give an answer at the same time.

• rats and cockroaches everywhere.

• being cyber bullied by a then 28-year-old kindergarten teacher who majored in psychology or something that makes you think she isn't mentally unstable. i've never met her. i got messages from her through every channel on the internet. who cyber bullies someone 10 years younger than them? who cyber bullies aimee? i pick up rubbish at the beach?

• hong kong as a concept.

• embarrassing myself by making some basic-ass food (veggie rice paper rolls wtf does that!) for all the michelin star chefs i'd met because they were always feeding me wonders from this land and sea and i wanted to show them i could be hospitable too.

• i was playing basketball. i tripped. my knee got hurt. then infected. i ended up going to hospital a week later, chauffeured in a maybach belonging to a stranger who heard from the restaurant table next to mine that my knee was purple and gold and starting to accumulate moss-like substance. he came after my friend and i as we left halfway through the meal, 'you should take my car' and signaled for his driver to pull up in front of us before disappearing behind the noren.

unless this happens to everyone and i'm just a wide-eyed country bumpkin who's simple and plain and loves Jesus and thinks this is crazy.

half and half

ch'lita

world of sandwich craft

my mum used to make me elaborate sandwiches for lunch in primary school. multigrain rye with lettuce, alfalfa, cucumber, avocado and pickled relish. i would always throw it away because: 1. everyone else had sandwiches with spread only and would make fun of my lunch (now i know they were just basic bitches with basic sandwiches), 2. the cucumber would always get the bread soggy and 3. i was a dumbass kid who didn’t understand the value of food. fast forward to now, having been forced into controlling the contents of my own sandwiches since those childhood days—i have come to grow, respect, and appreciate this labour of love and symbol of life.

[...]

as we grow up we explore the world of sandwiches. in gansu, china, many are partial to roujiamo (肉夹馍), where a wheat-based flatbread in the shape of a disc called bing, is sliced up and stuffed with chopped or minced lamb, coriander and pepper. bing dates back to the qin dynasty (221 bc to 206 bc), making roujiamo a candidate for the world’s oldest sandwich. in australia, kids (myself included) all grow up big (5’10) and strong (i can do half a push up) thanks to vegemite, a spread made from left over brewer’s yeast. it’s often eaten on toasted bread above a layer of butter or margarine. how the vegemite fails many outside of australia--is because y’all spread this pungent and salty concoction like nutella. it’s not. it’s freaking leftover brewer’s yeast. i don’t know much about leftover brewer’s yeast you would eat but i would go easy on it. vegemite with avocado or tomato and pepper makes regular appearances in teacher’s lounges and on the morning tea plates of those between 15 to 85. through travelling and exploring, i’ve met the chip butty in england, the francesigna in portugal, the doner kebab on every street corner at 3 a.m., a katsu-sando in japan, the banh mi in vietnam and arepas in the US, because i have yet to go to venezuela. through terrain, ocean, and all forces of culture and nature, a sandwich is something almost all of us have in common, unless you’re low carb paleo, also known as: please check yourself.

people live sandwiches too. they make a living out of this and what a living it is. in new york city, my favorite food truck is the cinnamon snail. their sandwich flavors extend to lemongrass five spice, maple custard, korean bbq, thai bbq, creole, and i’m only scratching the sourdough surface. adam sobel, the owner, has been spreading his sandwich love for five years now. what started as a place for ‘the craziest architecturally looking entrees’ has since turned into a lunch staple for those working on the busy island. ‘it soon became evident that people weren’t going to eat crazy entrees, especially not on a paper plate on their lap on a park bench.’ adam muses while flipping tempeh on the grill, ‘it was also difficult creating crazy food within most people’s lunch budgets.’ a cinnamon snail sandwich sets you back $9, but the ethos of the business makes it a standout.

another thing that made sense in a particular moment that i have since come to question, was my quest to make the ultimate sandwich—a combination of the most popular ingredients by my peers (except for daniel because he once called me a food snob). of the twenty people i questioned on their sandwich preferences, i realised 1. i don’t know them at all and 2. did I ever know them? my favorite sandwich is sweet potato and arugula. my must-have in any sandwich is the bitter greens, something to kick you in the face, keep you on your toes. everyone else? four people favoured grilled cheese, another four declared their love for ‘turkey sandwiches’—i didn’t even know people consumed turkey outside of forced family gatherings, and two seattleites chose banh mi as the ultimate dream. other favorites were caprese, gherkin, mustard, BLT, steak, roast beef, ‘i prefer bagels’, a cuban sandwich and chicken pesto. a number of people just sound like they are putting last night’s dinner between two slices of bread (my favorite dinner-in-bread is ‘last night’s spaghetti’), but that’s what sandwiches are all about, right? everybody is able to make one.

[...]

(published 2015)

everything is embarrassing

wearing georgia alice and fme apparel

the light in new zealand is way harsher than new york, i overexposed three film rolls in a row. moving here from there is like having been in a deep asleep, only to wake up with the sun beaming through your windows. the light is blinding. the nearest person is 5 km away.

[the x-files theme plays]

sucre #3

me on/in sucre

winter blues

nora

nora: i'm freezing today.

me: maybe you need a bigger coat.

nora: no, i need more body fat.

[later]

me: how did you end up in new york city?

nora: i came here as a tourist and fell in love with the city from the first second. i went back to hong kong, packed all my life and decided to move here. my plan was to sign with an agency and 'make it' here. so i flew all the way with my most precious outfits and big dreams. after 15 hours flight, i got stopped at the border, was kept at the airport cell for 24 hours and sent back to hong kong and given a 10-year ban from the US. i still don't really understand the reason, but I guess i wasn't allowed to even be looking for work with a tourist visa. it was all very dramatic, but made me want to be here even more. i went through quite a lot, but finally still managed to get a visa. they will not get me out of here now.