Jiachen Jiang

Almost by definition alcoholics are lousy at relationships. We melt into them in that muddied, liquid way, rather than marching into them with any real sense of strength or self-awareness. We become so accustomed to transforming ourselves into new and improved versions of ourselves that we lose the core version, the version we were born with, the v

(an exam that you never fail, unless you are afflicted by wealth)

The Korean word jeong is untranslatable but the closest definition is “an instantaneous deep connection,” often felt between Koreans. Did I imagine jeong with this therapist? Why did I think she’d understand me, as if our shared heritage would be a shortcut to intimacy? Or more accurately, a shortcut to knowing myself?

I remember being amazed that death could so easily rise up from the nothing of a boyish afternoon, billow up like fog.

The key to dying is to breathe unconditionally.

For every project that matters to me, I’ve had judging committees for over a decade now. They’re not permanent structures; they’re temporary scaffolding. I think of them as pop-up workshops. For each project, I pull together a different mix of five to seven insiders and outsiders with complementary skills. The group bands, disbands, and morphs as r

I recently rewatched his Moonrise Kingdom, which, as one blogger noted, is as pleasurable and light as a macaron.

Not everything floats. I am trying to learn which parts of me to let sink.