connie n. wang is a lover of writing, design, photography and creating art. Enjoys hearing the stories people tell in conversations, interviews, documentaries and the like. this blog is where she has fun and connects with unique, artsy people like you.
something is wrong,
i see your deeply felt eyes
and we speak soulfully.
you look away and i hear
your sadness, tears fall.
my heart outlines itself,
i can feel it so strongly.
the lines tighten up
and it breaks for you.
how do you console, comfort and relieve, when a life is gone? what words to say when none at all… comes to mind? taken and given, breathes we make our own. alone, solely, do we reason at all?
i love you.
i am here.
i want to be.
everything will be okay.
Like a gentle mother, you hold their hands.
The baby insecurities you used to store away.
Wandering in dark corners of sequestered forests.
But honestly, honest, who isn’t broken?
We were once young, under the sun,
Cradled from the innocence of our time.
But that is not real, that is not forever.
Beauty of humanity is we are so fragile.
From only a year on earth to 100 of them,
We are who we are.
Thank you for being honest.
To me, you were a perfect, empty statue,
Until you broke it all down
Out of the hollowness
Into a vision that is so unique,
so original, so complex,
So full of your beauty.
Each moment is new
Nothing is perfect
Nothing is the same.
For the first time, I heard your words.
The other day, when I came upon your song.
They were simple, yet deeply thoughtful.
I didn’t care really, the first time.
It wasn’t something I’m used to.
To go back to. To relate with.
But I awoke one morning with you in my head.
The words came in so easily as if they were mine.
And I played it once again. And again.
To feel the ease of your feelings in ten poetic lines.
The music you composed follows along nicely
Like a dance partner you trust and align with.
The song and dance continues in my mind,
Inspiring me towards a greater existence
I know and believe in.
To all the women in all the land all around the world, I thank you. For all that you have achieved. For all that you have fought for. For all that you do, every single day. I am so proud to be a woman. I am so proud to stand beside strong, intelligent, creative individuals who make the world better. I am so proud of what is to come.
In 1903, Marie Curie was the first woman to win the Nobel Prize.
In 1921, Edith Wharton was the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.
In 1963, Valentina Tereshkova was the first woman in space.
In 1975, Junko Tabei was the first woman to reach the highest point of Mount Everest.
In 1987, Aretha Franklin was the woman to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
And one day, there will be a first woman President of the United States.
Photographed in a red sweater,
Small and cute, feelings weren’t identifiable.
Older I got, feelings became inescapable.
Teenage angst and hormonal frustrations,
Uprooted from innocence into paths of confusion.
In the grasps of adulthood, entangled in-between.
Hearts no longer seen and tears tucked at the seams.
Hidden behind professionalism and personal,
Wondering, what does life truly mean?
Growing into womanhood and sisterhood,
Being human, being kind, & being alive.
Feeling it all the time and no longer holding it in.
Checking in my emotional integrity
Because it’s the only thing I need in this life.
I came upon the title, “emotional integrity” randomly in my head and I thought about how much of a transition it’s been for me to realize and actualize my feelings and reflections throughout the years as a child to now as an adult. I then searched the term online and it is indeed a term. How fitting the true definition is to what I was trying to convey.
another 28 days go by
so quickly time flies.
a strike to 12:00am
means a whole new day
one in which we launch forward
leaving behind all the others behind.
farewell february where were you hiding?
you’re such a tease, come and go as you please.
and once i get used to seeing you, you disappear.
so march onward i go, to another four weeks.
what will appear and what will i see?
i guess it will be answered
when we start month three.
“the words you speak become the house you live in” – Estelea (blogger friend)
I have these words posted on my wall and I read them this morning. It makes sense. What it means and the importance of how we talk and what we talk about eventually become a part of us. On the way back home today, the sky showed its most beautiful colors. Pink skies are the prettiest, I think, with it swirling among the blue sky and orange sunset. With every turn the car made, I could see colors just peeking through the spaces of the tree branches and above backyards of houses being lived in. Beyond the highway, I could see it clearer and it made me really feel grateful for all there is. Simple as that. Something we all see without anything other than with our eyes. To feel with our insides without needing to speak to connect with.
Colors are beautiful. Without all the diversity, there wouldn’t be any emotion, character, and harmony. There would be nothing. One color stands with another and mixes and blends together as naturally and easily as any other. And this reminds me of an observation I made on the train the other day.
We all try to make it. Foreigners and natives alike, we try. Try so hard to wake up in the morning to reach the too early designated time someone had the brilliant idea of. To not cross it. To start our day by it. To earn a living and reach closer to what we want our lives to be. I’m on the train and I see a man with well-made shoes, but not well-polished. He takes out an English textbook. English is not his native language, I assume, because he looks like my dad. But it’s only an assumption. Our world is so big and there are so many possibilities of everything that we can only assume. And he reads. Learning more, taking on more because he wants to. Because he can. Life is less scary when you know what you’re in for. Or not. Maybe it’s scarier to face the truths. To face reality. Maybe he’s braver to want more. To seek all and not just get by. I wonder how many times he’s thought of where he’s been and where he wants to go.
Diversity is beautiful. These are my words. I want to live in a house full of diverse ideas, to share a love for life and explore it all. I want to live in a house of which was built on the foundation of kindness, happiness and peace. To live among individuals who want to work together and make a stronger, healthy world. A house that is protected and appreciated for its shelter, comfort and relief. Because then, what is a house otherwise? Where American Dreams don’t come true and words like us and them meant we were against each other?
We can all illuminate our colors and still be in harmony. There is enough space & resources for all of us, if we let it.
There is this strong odor we carry.
We reek of this chemical reaction
Of human competition & validation.
Seeking alternatives to internal
We wear protective armor instead.
Built to survive and withstand
Human qualities like love, ethics & kindness,
Money & Ego tangles us into
Threads and threads of armpits.
Smells we can’t rid ourselves of
Because sweat from hard work & sacrifice
For a thinly surface veil only covers so little.
Because money & ego can only go so far
If we let it be the only things we go for.
I just ate a delicious lunch of crunchy peanut butter on toast and a bowl of strawberries. Strawberries I unfortunately left abandoned in the fridge since I got them because I was so caught up in time with commuting and working. As I ate each one, I thought of how tasty they were, even if they weren’t all sweet. I thought about how quickly they go from beautiful red to dehydrating shadows of what it used to be. I’m also listening to a Joan Baez record that my love got me yesterday. I saw it at a thrift store and didn’t purchase it that day. Now I am feeling the dreamy, honest, sweet voice this woman has. The stories she tells in melodies and metaphors. How a simple, “You strayed into my arms And there you stayed, Temporarily lost at sea” can mean so much. And as I take time to sit and reflect; and not letting my mind run into several directions, I think about those I admire.
I am so drawn to people who can speak from their heart. Their eyes truly sparkle, their smiles are so wide and they release this energy that is so infectious and attracting. Many may call them naive, innocent or unknowing. But I look at them, I think they are the wisest and smartest people. We are on this earth so very few years that to be cruel seems like such a waste of time. I admire those who keep going. The ones who are so passionate in making this world beautiful, fair, and peaceful. The ones who are not afraid. The ones who live for more than themselves. Whenever I hear stories of heroes who saves someone else’s life, I cry because it meant that there is something more than this. We are more than who we are. We are more than what money can buy us, we are more than what awards we win and the labels that define us. Just like the strawberries, if we abandon ourselves, abandon each other and our world, abandon the opportunities, we will soon be shadows of who we used to be. We will be shadows of who we could’ve become.