adventures – three generations

Color Scavenger Hunt + Haikus

In early April, a few weeks after lock down started in Maryland, I came across the color scavenger hunt, an activity idea for kids via The Color Factory and party expert, Darcy Miller. The idea is simple: Gather items of a specific color in your room or house, lay it all out, and then take a picture. What was an idea for kids became for me, a fun, necessary break from my computer and being online, and surprisingly, a chance to flex my haiku writing skills. Not to mention I got a chance to look through all my stuff. An abbreviated version of tidying, so to speak.

I discovered that a few colors are well-represented in my possessions. Others, while I wear a lot of the color (like gray), were surprisingly lacking in numbers. I found items that are relatively new, ones I had forgotten exist, some I rarely use, and others that have been with me for decades. Items that have stories of their own.

I realized how our styles evolve and how some stay the same but are a bit more curated. This evolution is closely tied with growing older, as I’m trying to not have as much stuff and love the stuff I do own. As I am more drawn to classic patterns and neutral palettes now, I do love pops of color and I hope I always will.

At some point the captions for these posts on Instagram turned into poems—mostly haikus. A few I wrote after I shared the photos, so here are all the haikus in their colorful glory:

red wax pools 
seals my heart within until
you come and break it

*

yellow metro card
a record of where i've been
where shall i go next? 

*

brown, color of earth
natural--but darker hues
exterminated
condemned as less than
when they/we hold the power
of a thousand suns

*

together we can
rule galaxies--worlds full of 
and beyond color

*

the white bone folder
has creased thousands of pages
my life wrapped within

*

i am brilliant.
i am bright and beautiful. 
shine, shine like the stars. 

*

a feast for the eyes
every color imagined
in play, in contrast

Workshop Performance of YAPPIE: A Musical Comedy

Two months ago I officially signed on to write the book and lyrics for an original musical about Asian Americans. As of today, we are 11 days out from the workshop performance of Yappie: A Musical Comedy.

Hours before rehearsal last night I started to get nervous. My leg was twitchy; I felt my heart rate rise; I tried to control my breathing. The magnitude of this project and the urgency to get it ready by October 4 finally hit me. I’ve spent most of the past two months writing dialogue and lyrics; thinking about dialogue and lyrics (which come at the most inopportune time, like when you’re in the bathroom); editing scenes; reading scenes out loud; discussing scenes, themes, and dialogue with the creative team; reworking the storyboard; calling my sister at random times throughout the night to ask if a scene, situation, or line is funny; doubting my own sense of humor and ability to write humor; and staring at the blinking cursor on Microsoft Word for long, excruciating minutes.

I knew October 4 was coming, but I was focused on the script, trying to let a story unfold. A story I wasn’t too sure of when I first began to write it. A story I wasn’t sure I could write given my inexperience with writing plays and songs.

At some point in rehearsal last night, I hit my stride. I heard the actors breathe life into two new scenes I wrote this week, and I let myself be proud of it. I was proud of my work. Scratch that. I AM proud of my work.

Sometimes I don’t give myself enough credit. I know a lot of women who don’t; we just do the work and keep doing the work, praise or no praise. That’s not a cycle I want to continue, so I am taking up this space. I am embracing the compliments and assurances the creative team and cast send my way. I am owning this story and this experience and everything that comes with it. I’ve been full of excitement; I’ve been frustrated; I’ve been upset; I’ve silenced myself; I’ve procrastinated on grad school assignments because all I want to do is write this musical; I’ve let the doubts take over my day; I’ve been happy. And I am always grateful.

I am beyond fortunate to work with and be supported by the dream team of Roger Wu Fu + Bobby Ge + Donna Ibale. So many factors in our individual lives converged to bring us together. When I think about it, the machinations began last summer: an arts organization focused on AAPIs was in the works in which Donna was a founder; Roger and Bobby started their graduate program at Peabody; I quit my job. None of us thought we would be here right now, days away from the premiere of an original musical (maybe Donna). But here we are. And it’s exactly where I want to be.

Yappie (a combination of YAP, a young Asian professional, and yuppie) follows the story of Grace, a young Asian professional living her best life in the corporate world. Or is she? Passed over for a promotion, Grace finds herself in the unlikeliest of places: auditioning for a musical. Having spent most of her life living up to the expectations of her family, Grace begins to question who she is, what she wants, and what it means to be Asian American. Yappie: A Musical Comedy promises to be a fun journey asking hard questions about identity and stereotypes with tons of empathy, warmth, and lots of laughs.

Story by Roger Wu Fu, Jenny C. Lares & Bobby Ge

Book & Lyrics by Jenny C. Lares | Music & Lyrics by Bobby Ge

Directed by Donna Ibale | Produced by Roger Wu Fu & Donna Ibale

BUY TICKETS

Tickets: $8 General Admission, $5 for college students, Free for JHU students/faculty/staff

I’m writing a musical!

It’s been a summer of writing, collaborating, performing, being open to all possibilities, and taking chances. A year ago, I was still very lost and very much full of doubt. I binge watched tv shows to drown out my own thoughts and to avoid making any kind of decision about my future. And then, slowly, after reading books, and making myself write more consistently in my journal (and with the immense support of my family and close friends), things started to shift. Every day I felt closer to a version of myself I had lost along the way years ago. I finally put myself out there again; I put forth positive energy into the universe and now it’s coming back to me in ways I never thought possible.

I can’t remember exactly when I said this and to whom, but I said that I was interested in learning more about theatre and being part of the creative process somehow. I guess the universe was listening because I’m writing a musical. A musical!

When I was first approached about joining the creative team as the playwright and lyricist in mid-July, I thought I wasn’t “ready” as a writer to take on such a challenge. I’ve written skits for college performances before but never a full script (but now I’m remembering I technically co-wrote a play for the Philippine Culture Night at the University of Maryland many years ago. Does that count?). Writing skits or a play for a college audience as a college student is one thing. This was a bigger, more expansive project. With music, nonetheless!

My sister thought I was crazy to agree to it. Did I think I was crazy? No. It was exactly what I was looking for, and to be honest, exactly what I needed: an opportunity to challenge myself artistically and to grow as both an artist and person.

I have wanted to collaborate on an artistic project with other artists for a very long time, but it didn’t pan out for a variety of reasons. One of the visions I had for Sulu DC years ago was creating a monthly jam session for artists to connect and play together, with the hope that it could transform into actual collaborations between artists. I was not able to create that space, but now, years later, I am in that space with other artists and I am enjoying every second of it. Even the times when I’m struggling with a rhyme for a song, or I can’t seem to get the cadence or voice of a character right. Even when I keep staring at a blank page, hoping dialogue for a scene I’ve outlined will magically pop into my brain from nothing. Even those moments are worthwhile, and made even more so when I do come up with the next verse and I send it off to my creative collaborators and they love it (and even when they don’t love it).

The next couple weeks of my life (more like 8 months) is going to be hectic in the best way. I’m so honored and happy I get to work with talented, bright, driven, truly amazing people. I wouldn’t have jumped at the chance to join the project so quickly had they not been my partners in this endeavor.

The workshop performance of our musical, YAPPIE: A Musical Comedy, is slated for Friday, October 4 at 7:30 PM at the Cohen-Davison Family Theatre at the Peabody Institute of The Johns Hopkins University . Check out my Events page for more information. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Instagram for updates and behind-the-scenes look at our process.

ABOUT THE MUSICAL

Yappie (a combination of YAP, a young Asian professional, and yuppie) follows the story of Grace, a young Asian professional living her best life in the corporate world. Or is she? Passed over for a promotion, Grace finds herself in the unlikeliest of places: auditioning for a musical. Having spent most of her life living up to the expectations of her family, Grace begins to question who she is, where she belongs, and what it means to be Asian American. Written by Jenny C. Lares and composed by Bobby Ge, Yappie: A Musical Comedy promises to be a fun journey asking hard questions about identity and stereotypes with tons of empathy, warmth…and lots of laughs.

Producer & Music Director: Roger Wu Fu

Producer & Director: Donna Ibale

Color and Creativity

A few weeks ago, my sister and I went to Color Factory, an interactive exhibit celebrating color and creativity. It began last year in San Francisco, and this year, took inspiration from the color palette of New York City.

The exhibit was an absolute delight! Every room was a unique experience, and we had a grand old time playing, dancing, eating treats (which was brilliant!), and discovering our secret color (mine was a purple called “psychological thriller”).

One of my favorite things about Color Factory was the “Poems for the City” by Won McIntosh, a Queens-based writer. Won McIntosh translated the color palette into ten poems about daily life in New York City. The poems were displayed on the wall in the lobby for all to see and absorb while waiting in line. It inspired me to try and write short poems about the city but as someone who’s not a New Yorker and not quite a tourist either. Something in between?

Mercer Street (SoHo)
Here we are
Footsteps on cobblestones
Stepping sideways around strangers
In pace with people
Who have places to go

Canal Street Market
Here we are
Greeted by merchandise stalls and cafe regulars
A one-stop shop
Where choices are plenty
And nourishment always possible

They’re not the best poems, and have nowhere near the profoundness of Won’s poems, but hey, I’m just glad I actually wrote something! Hopefully, the trend will continue. Here’s to more color and inspiration in daily life.

Lessons Learned: A Family Road Trip

Earlier this month a few of my extended family from the Philippines visited the U.S. for the first time. As the first members of my mom’s side of the family to be approved for a visitor visa, we were ecstatic to host them and to show them our life here. We took them on a mini tour of the East Coast from Washington, DC to New York City to Ontario, Canada. It was a packed 12 days filled with lots of driving, lots of eating, lots of laughing, and lots of photos.

Traveling with family in enclosed spaces for a long period of time can test one’s patience (among other things). Here’s a few things I learned along the way about myself and traveling in general:

I walk fast.

Or is it that everyone else walks very slowly?

My family is terrible at this communication thing.

I already knew this before we went on our numerous road trips, but it was further highlighted throughout our trip. At times it was funny though, like when I got mad that no one told me I was supposed to drop off my aunt at her apartment instead of going back to the hotel.

They told me when I was about to turn into the hotel.

It was nearly midnight.

(Funny and maddening).

As the driver, you can miss out on some things.

I like driving. I do. Maybe just not parking gigantic full-size SUVs that are a foot taller than I am. Climbing into that monster of a vehicle was its own training exercise.

By the time we were on our last road trip to DC, and I had driven yet another rental car (this time a van), my right leg started cramping and I was struggling to walk down the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

It’s also a lot of responsibility, and it’s hard to have meaningful conversations with your relatives when you’re unfamiliar with the car and your surroundings. I may have wanted to engage with them more, but I was mostly focused on the road and staying awake and alert. In a way, I felt like I missed out on connecting with them. I also often take on the responsibility of entertaining my family and making them laugh; I’ve done it ever since I was a little girl. So I felt bad that I wasn’t able to keep everyone entertained and that there were long lulls in the car. Then I realized that those periods of silence weren’t because people were bored. It was because they were all sleeping.

I can be moody, but it goes away quickly.

This a truth about myself that I had to confront during and after our trip. Have I always been this way, or is it a recent development? Have friends been trying to tell me this but I wasn’t ready to hear it? Does family bring out the worst in you sometimes? How could I have handled situations better instead of just snapping?

I’m sure we’d all like to think we can control our emotions all or most of the time. Before their arrival, I was mentally and emotionally preparing myself to be on my “best” behavior. In Filipino cultural terms, that means being polite, respectful, and not shaming your parents in any way. But when my family arrived, something switched and subconsciously, I decided to come exactly as I am–moods and Americanness and all.

So when I was upset about something, I expressed it. Not in the best way sometimes, but I didn’t want to silence myself. I was finally on a family trip where I could be all of me. Where I didn’t feel like I couldn’t say something for fear of shame or rejection or misunderstanding. Other family trips have usually been to the Philippines when I don’t feel like I can be exactly as I am–loud, outspoken, strong and sweet. It was important to me to be real, even if it’s not deemed to be “good” behavior.

However, I recognize that being true to oneself doesn’t allow me to be disrespectful or disregard others. Are there moments I wish I approached differently? Yes. Will I still snap if I’m hungry, sick, or when people are being unreasonable? Probably. But maybe not as often.

Camp Artscape

On Saturday I dragged my sister to Artscape in Baltimore. This is the third year in a row I’ve gone to Artscape. The first was in 2015 when I volunteered for a few shifts. Now it’s slowly becoming a summer tradition.

Like last year, I was looking forward to the artist market. I love walking from booth to booth, admiring the art, and buying artwork when I come across something I love (and within my budget, of course). Last year I bought a screen print of the English alphabet and numbers in highlighter pink from Baltimore Print Studios. It’s on display at my work desk and served as the inspiration for the rest of that particular wall of my cubicle.

I didn’t walk away with artwork this time, but I did buy a ring made from traditional Japanese textiles by Tigerlilly Shop. It’s so pretty I want to wear it every day! (no pic, unfortunately).

Shortly after I bought the ring, it started to drizzle. Neither of us checked the weather before we left the house. (I swear it was only supposed to rain on Sunday!) But we continued to walk through the streets keeping our fingers crossed that the summer storm would hold back, even just a little.

No such luck.

At least we were able to get food right when the wind picked up. We walked through the rain, clutching our bowls of bibimbap until we found a building with an overhang.

Our view as we ate with our backs to the wall of some building.

I actually love summer rain storms. (Don’t let this post fool you). Running through the rain, not caring about my clothes getting drenched. There’s a sense of freedom somehow in letting the rain wash over you while others hide from it like it’s the proper thing, or the only thing to do. But I digress. This post is about Artscape, not rain storms.

After eating lunch we went in search of ice cream and caught a few musical acts along the way. On the way back to the car I spotted the cutest little sunglasses. There it was, just chillin on the bricks.

And that, my friends, was our time at Artscape 2017. Seriously, aren’t the sunglasses just the cutest thing?

(I’m still getting used to writing recaps so forgive the lack of focus of this post).