Misc., Poetry
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How to be a half-Japanese girl in America

the dust on old photographs i have of japan
ask me, do you remember? or conversely
have you forgotten? because somehow those seem
to be two
different questions.
somewhere in japan a flower is blooming, pink petals
reaching out to the morning, half-flower, half-bud.
somewhere in america it is night-time and the grass is
sighing under silent sprinklers.
somewhere in between is a girl waiting to remember,
or perhaps, to forget.

Explanation for Diarist Series:
As one of the first Tunnel diarists, I’ll admit I don’t really know what I’m doing. But, I have at least a hazy idea of what I might attempt to try to maybe do. In this diarist series, I’m going to use different art forms to explore how the geography of our lives affects who we are. I’ve lived in some different places (England, Japan, America) and I want to explore themes of multiculturalism, differing perspectives, the effect of nature on life. What is art, beauty, home, friendship? Our ideas of these things, although they seem like such reasonable, wholesome, turkey-sandwich truths, are just constructs, just human beings trying to make sense of the ultimate chaos of life. I’m not entirely sure where this diarist series will take me, but I hope the seas will be favorable!

–Hanna I.



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