Our Daily Lives by Kat Pham by School of Art, George Mason University

Our Daily Lives Capturing the Cozy and the Mundane

Illustrated and Written by Kat Pham

Copyright © 2021 by Kat Pham All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or used in any manner without the written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. First edition: December 2021 Book design and illustrations by Kat Pham Edited by Francis Ochoa www.honeykikistudio.com

For Francis, my parents, siblings, and friends. Without whom, this book would have been filled with uneventful memories.

Preface I wish to capture the smaller moments in our

lives to reflect what we see online and yet, life’s

lives in order to encourage people to find a new

ordinary moments don’t quite fulfill those unre-

appreciation for them and enjoy them more. I

alistic expectations. Majority of life isn’t always

have suffered from anxiety for a large part of my

filled with excitement and glamour, but instead it

life and have often found solace in short stories

is made up of simple routines that fill up our day

and illustrations. This book aims to create an

to day lives. This book serves to capture some

escape for those who also experience anxiety or

of those mundane yet meaningful moments of

depression by focusing on the smaller and hap-

our daily lives. Whether it’s alone or with loved

pier moments in life. These are the moments we

ones, those moments deserve to be appreciated

often overlook but tend to reflect back on when

and captured. Each small story carries a special

we’re older. In a time when it may sometimes feel

message regarding the mundane accompanied

like we are constantly burdened by catastroph-

with an illustration. Hopefully it serves as a gen-

ic events in the world, one after the other, it can

tle reminder of your happy memories that you've

seem like nothing good comes in between the

spent with someone you love and may even give

few milestones in our lives. We all want our daily

you inspiration for the future.

Contents 12

Melting Ice Cream

A Spontaneous Trip to the Beach

Rainy Day

Picking up a Paintbrush After a Long Time

A Cozy Meal for Three

Unpacking the Last Cardboard Box

Going Grocery Shopping

Can You Put the Roof Down?

A Trip to the Aquarium

Arcade Night

Studying Alone in a Cafe

Getting Ready to Go Out

Don't Forget the Picnic Basket

After a Long Day at the Amusement Park

A Surprise Present

Going to a New Art Exhibition

Cooking with Someone

The Fall Festivals have Finally Arrived

Evening Routine

Dusting off Your Winter Coat

Lazy Sunday Morning

Spring Cleaning

The Smell of a Bookstore

Melting Ice Cream The year “Big Girls Don’t Cry'' and “Hey There

side, trying to shove all the information into my

Delilah '' came out on the radio was the same

brain. A week later, we took the test again and

year that I started learning my multiplication ta-

this time, I was the first one done. When the bell

bles. Every week, my teacher would give us timed

rang, I walked out of the building with my head

quizzes, testing to see how well we remembered

held high. My grandpa stood by the school exit

them. It was a single sheet of paper with fifty

with a smile as I ran toward him, boasting about

equations evenly dispersed like soldiers await-

my grade and how well I did. This called for a mini

ing their next order. One by one, I would hear

celebration! We hopped into his Jeep and drove

pencils go down and my classmates would walk

to the nearby gas station. Without hesitation, I

confidently over to the turn-in tray on my teach-

skipped to the ice cream freezer and reached for

er’s desk. Panic would set in. “Why am I one of

the familiar Scooby-Doo push-up tubes. On the

the last to finish?” I thought. My aunt would often

drive home, I turned the radio knob to 99.5 and

help me with my homework and that day, out of

let Gwen Stefani sing quietly in the background

frustration, made me sit in our home library and

while I unwrapped my push pop. The weather

said, “You can’t come out until you remember all

that day was incredibly hot and I could see the

the tables.” She had seen the low marks I got

orange wrapping slowly begin to darken and be-

on our recent quiz and was not pleased. I don’t

come soggy. And when I tilted it, the ice cream

blame her, I had gotten nearly every equation

became an orange soup, slowly dripping down

incorrect. The entire evening, I clung onto that

the sides and onto my sticky fingers. I didn’t care,

crinkled sheet of paper, trying to remember every

“I was the first to finish my multiplication tables,”

single table. My eyes went up and down, side-to-

I thought, “I deserve this!”

Rainy Day Rain can be a blessing and a curse. When you’re running late to a meeting and you forgot your umbrella, the last thing you need is a shower coming down on you after taking an extra five minutes to set your hair nicely. We’ve all had our fair share of experiences with the rain –– it’s just a part of life. However, even if we often associate it with ruined plans and wet hair, it can’t be all bad. In many ways, rainy days can provide us with comfort in ways that we never expect it to. Let’s talk about the cold rainy days when we find ourselves without the burden of responsibilities that we can just get cozy with a blanket on the couch and curl up with a good book. Sometimes, having all of these elements align can be so rare that you can’t help but celebrate. On one particular rainy afternoon in high school, I had to finish reading a few chapters of Truman Capote’s “In Cold Blood” for my AP Language class. I never liked to read much back then, but this book was an exception. I have always enjoyed watching crime documentaries, so this book suited my tastes well. Outside of my window, I could see a small stream flowing down the hill my house sat on. And for a moment, my eyes began to follow the path of a lonely leaf sailing down the sidewalk colliding into an abandoned bicycle with training wheels. The sharp booming of thunder snapped me out of my daze and I promptly returned to my book. As I read, I could hear the sound of rain gently tapping on my window aligning with every syllable that I read. However, reading by the window on a rainy day felt incomplete without a warm beverage, so naturally, I hurried downstairs to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate. Once my drink was made, it was finally time to finish the book and solve the mystery. 14

A Cozy Meal for Three Whenever I think of my closest friends, I often

just a quiet lunch, it was a kind glimpse into the

think of the small moments we’ve shared together.

past. Seated in a wooden booth in the warmly lit

It is often in the moments when we sit in silence,

restaurant and glancing past their faces, I could

enjoying each other's presence, where I realize

see the blue-tinted world beyond the windows.

how close we are. On one rainy afternoon, I had

The roads were glistening from the storm that

a few hours to spare before class and I remem-

had just passed and the windows were decorated

ber hurrying to message them to see if they were

with tiny droplets. We spent the time catching up

free and we quickly met for an impromptu lunch.

with one another’s lives, what classes we were

We decided to eat at a cozy Korean restaurant by

taking, and how our current jobs were treating

campus – one that we used to visit frequently but

us. The booths surrounding us were filled with

due to our conflicting schedules, are rarely able

quiet conversations and laughter. After lunch, we

to go to now. It reminded me of the times when

drove to a nearby café for some milk tea. There,

we first began college and were able to spend

we talked and laughed even more. Right before

more time together. Back then, it seemed like we

class, we hurried to a local stationery store to

had all the time in the world. We would hang out

look over the latest sticker sheets and notebooks.

nearly everyday in-between classes to eat out,

And as we did, my friend and I beamed at the

go swimming, or go shopping. Now that we’re a

idea that one day, our work would be sold in sta-

bit older, we have more school work, jobs, and

tionery stores too. Although it was a simple after-

personal family obligations. It gets difficult to see

noon, I cherished it greatly.

each other, even once a month. Although it was

Going Grocery Shopping Ever since I was little, I always believed that running errands like going grocery shopping or picking up medicine together is what “real adult couples” did since I watched my parents do it. Fast forward to the present, I now do these mundane errands with my boyfriend. At the end of every week, my boyfriend and I always go grocery shopping. It’s something that happens weekly, and yet I find myself constantly looking forward to it. When we go to the grocery store, it sometimes feels like I’m in an amusement park. We like to look at the new Asian snacks in the snack aisle and debate on whether or not we should buy ramen noodles again after saying we would try to eat healthier for the millionth time (we always buy them). It was these little trips to the market that would remind me of what I used to think “real couples” did as a child. And although we have passed the honeymoon phase and are in a more “settled” stage of our relationship doing these mundane errands, we find a lot of happiness in these small moments and it makes me wonder if the honeymoon stage ever really ends, or if this is only the natural progression of it. 18

A Trip to the Aquarium A few winters ago, I drove to Maryland for the

Blue Tang and Clownfish (you may know them

first time. I was eighteen and never had any rea-

by their nicknames, Dory and Nemo)! At every

son to drive for long distances, but decided to

corner that we turned, there was something

visit the aquarium with my boyfriend who was

new that we have never seen – we felt like kids

visiting from Texas. He had never been but it

in an amusement park. Watching some of the

was a place I had gone to countless times as a

fish always stirred up a sense of wonder within

child. The drive was going to be about an hour

me. And in all honesty, it was the uglier fish that

long and I was driving with confidence –– up un-

caught my attention over the other ones. While

til I saw the large black and gold checkered sign

skipping through the dark rooms, we stopped at

that read, “Maryland welcomes you.” My palms

my personal favorite; the shark tunnel. The tank

instantly became sweaty and I clung onto the

would arch over our heads, wrapping us in blue

steering wheel. It was my first time driving out

and we were just a few inches of glass apart from

of state and of all times, we were driving during

the cold-blooded predators. But still, I couldn’t

rush hour. The drive there felt like an eternity,

help but feel calm in the quiet tunnel. The only

but we eventually arrived at the aquarium. The

light came from the sunlight peeking through the

aquarium was enormous and covered with glass

water and the occasional flash of a DSLR. Every

windows that gleamed under the golden sun.

now and then we would hear a child yell, “hey

We were both amazed by how vibrant and plen-

look! A shark!” We couldn't help but giggle at how

tiful the fish were! At one point we even saw a

excited they were.

Studying Alone in a Cafe During my first year in college, I became overwhelmed with the course load and my first part-time job. To make matters worse, it was my first day of class and I had already missed two weeks. My mom prefers to save money when we travel, so she booked more affordable plane tickets to Japan for the family during my first two weeks of class. Needless to say, this also added an extra amount of stress to my plate. While staring at the list of homework and projects growing on my planner, I realized I needed a change of environment in order to clear my mind and be productive. I quickly got into my car and drove to a local cafe nearby and brought my assignments. When entering the cafe, I was greeted by the barista and the smell of freshly roasted coffee beans. The cafe’s brown interior felt warm accompanied by the soft dim lighting. After placing my order, I found a small table by the window and arranged my new workspace for the next few hours. My new pens and highlighters were neatly arranged and a blank white page eagerly waiting to be written on, sat next to my laptop. The waiter called for me to bring my honey dew latte and then my setup was complete. My tools were arranged and I had a drink. It was time to start working. The soft murmurs in the cafe became white noise and soon, I was in my own world. 22

Don't Forget the Picnic Basket! During the pandemic, I would stay home to help

on our balcony. Elated by the idea, she ran up-

my baby sister with her virtual classes whilst at-

stairs to grab her paint brushes and watercolors.

tending my own. Every morning we would wake

“Can we paint too?” I nodded and we arranged

up at 8 AM, eat breakfast, and then spend the day

a cozy setup on the balcony floor. A white grid

staring at our laptop screens for most of the day.

blanket with tiny pink flowers was sprawled on

This cycle proceeded for months and needless to

the floor, adorned by two small wooden crates.

say, it got a bit redundant and tiring. As the days

One of the crates had a small notebook set be-

grew longer and flowers began to bud, she want-

side a water-filled mason jar and a tiny metal

ed to go outside more often. Our neighborhood

tin with watercolors. The other crate’s purpose

playground was covered in police tape, guarded

was as our lunch table. As I rushed toward the

by a lonely picket sign reading “PLAYGROUND

glass doors with plates in my hand, she quickly

CLOSED.” The only way we could spend time

blocked the balcony. “Don’t forget the picnic bas-

outside was on our balcony. The balcony was

ket!” she exclaimed. We placed the empty basket

just a few feet from our neighbors, separated

on one corner of the blanket while we enjoyed

by tall shrubs and trees. One quiet Friday after-

our picnic with plump grapes and spaghetti. We

noon, my sister was especially restless and she

could hear the soft guitar playing from across the

wanted to go out. Suddenly, the soft strumming

mini forest along with the gentle cool breeze. It

of a guitar coming from our neighbor’s stereo

was a perfect Friday afternoon.

gave me an idea. We could have a small picnic

A Surprise Present My love language has always been receiving gifts. Out of the different love languages, receiving gifts has the worst reputation. It can be seen as materialistic and selfish for someone to measure someone else’s love by the gifts they give. However, those with this love language do not expect something expensive or luxurious. Random gifts without any occasion come across as thoughtful, such as a floral bouquet or food from a restaurant you like. The gifts represent attentiveness, that the person was listening carefully when you mentioned something you liked or what you wanted. And on my twenty-first birthday, a few of my friends gave me presents. The gifts were extremely different, and just by looking at them, I could tell that they listened and paid attention whenever I spoke about the things that I loved. It made me extremely happy to know that my words were acknowledged and it made the gifts even more meaningful to me. 26

Cooking with Someone Every Summer, my family plans a trip to go to

pho, the infamous Vietnamese noodle soup con-

the beach. I always go with my siblings, parents,

sisting of beef, pork, herbs, fresh vegetables, noo-

grandparents, aunts, and uncles. Needless to say,

dles, and broth. She often made it for me when I

we have a large family and we even have to rent

was little, excluding the vegetables since I was a

a large van in order to fit everyone along with our

picky eater. I remember following her around the

luggages. Since I am the youngest adult, I have

kitchen and recording her while she instructed

to sit in the back of the van while the stack of lug-

me on what to do. The second my phone pointed

gages, cookware, and baby strollers bump into

at her, she got shy and told me to turn it off. I re-

my shoulders and fall onto my head. My grand-

assured her that I wanted to record so that I can

ma always seemingly brings an entire kitchen.

remember the recipe for future reference, but I

She brings her rice cooker along with her pots

really just wanted to capture the moment of the

and pans, spices, and other various ingredients

two of us doing something together. We rarely get

whenever we go so that she can cook dinner for

the chance to spend time together, especially just

us. We tell her to rest, but she insists on bringing

us two. After putting in all the necessary ingre-

them since she and my grandpa never seem to

dients into the large soup pot, we rested and ate

like the restaurants at the boardwalk. The food

watermelon by the kitchen waiting for the soup

is often either too salty or too bland for their

to boil to its usual savory and delicious taste. And

taste. One year, I had insisted on assisting her

once it was time to test the soup a few hours lat-

with cooking dinner. I had grown confident since

er, I hesitantly reached for a wooden spoon and

I had been using my parents and my boyfriend

dipped it into the simmering broth. It tasted like

as guinea pigs for my new recipes. Reluctantly,

my childhood.

my grandma decided to teach me how to make

Evening Routine Everybody has their own evening routine, whether it be a ten-step skincare regime or reading a chapter of a book, every person has their own way of unwinding after a long day. The routine isn’t forever, it changes depending on a plethora of environmental influences. When you’re little, it is usually something simple: shower, brush your teeth, maybe a bedtime story, and then you’d sleep. As you get older, many things change. You may prefer to shower in the morning now, so that it refreshes you before you head to work or school. Sometimes you might come home late after going out and crash onto the bed with your outside clothes on. My routine allows me to decompress and clear my headspace for the night. After coming home from class or work, I instantly change into pajamas and remove my makeup. The best feeling is wiping off all the dust and sweat resulting from a tiring day and taking a shower. After washing up, I like to jump into bed and watch ASMR cooking videos to clear my mind and unwind. What’s your evening routine? Whatever it may be, I hope it allows you to decompress and get good sleep. Everyone deserves a proper evening routine. 30

Lazy Sunday Morning I grew up in a household that believed if you

our minds that if we aren’t working, then we must

weren’t being productive, then you were lazy.

not be contributing –– but it shouldn’t be that

Coming from a family of refugees, “hustling” was

way. Laziness is seen as a character flaw. But we

considered to be the standard. Understandably,

should allow ourselves to be lazy from time to

it was how they learned to survive when they es-

time, it may even be necessary. Realistically, we

caped from a war torn country and were forced

all need rest. As human beings, we aren’t made

to adapt into a new one where they could barely

to work long hours and work 24/7. Working that

speak the language. They have this mentality of

often isn’t productive and can sometimes even

“why rest when you could be doing something

be seen as counterintuitive. After years of “hus-

more productive?” However, I disagree with

tling,” it may even prove to be difficult to be lazy

this sentiment. Resting and dedicating yourself

for some. But we owe ourselves a “lazy Sunday

to hobbies that aren’t productive or financially

morning.” A day of rest, to recharge, to do noth-

compensative are necessary. So many of us live

ing. Try and dedicate a couple hours to watch-

in fast-paced environments that constantly re-

ing a movie or doing your favorite hobby. Having

quire us to be productive. Our self-worth is often

a lazy day can even be productive, it can make

based on how much we contribute to school, our

you feel mentally or physically replenished and

careers, or our passions. We have developed a

can make sure that you’re not running on fumes

tunnel-vision perspective while chasing after our

throughout the week. Your self worth is not based

goals that we end up not making time for any-

on the numbers you produce or how many proj-

thing else. This has caused so many of us to for-

ects you can accomplish.

get how to slow down. It has been ingrained in

The Smell of a Bookstore I have never been an avid reader. It wasn’t until June where I added reading onto a small summer bucket list, that I decided to try turning it into a hobby. The area where I live doesn’t have many used book stores, so I opted for a local Barnes and Nobles instead. The day before, I spent an hour watching book recommendation videos, picking and choosing which ones I should get when I got there. Walking into the Barnes and Noble, I felt a wave of calm rush over me. All I could hear was the slight chatter at the corner Starbucks, the muffle of books being stacked, and the crickets’ music playing quietly in the bushes by the entrance. It was a bit overwhelming, I’m not sure why I was nervous. I was just going to read books, what did I have to be nervous about? The process seemed so foreign and it was too quiet inside. Has it really been that long since I have been into a bookstore? I slowly scanned each aisle for my first book and out of nowhere–– squeak. I looked down as I saw my chunky black loafers, squeaking with each step. My cheeks turned pink and I felt like I was in the “Squeaky Boots’ episode from SpongeBob SquarePants. I shuffled my feet back and forth, “maybe it wasn’t me” squeak. It was. After acquiring every book on my list, I hurried over to the cafe seating area and thus, the first day of my new hobby began. 34

A Spontaneous Trip to the Beach During the early months of Summer break in

had to leave early in the morning. The next morn-

2019, my high school friends and I were all hours

ing, we all piled into her SUV and after driving

away from each other. I was still minutes away

for hours, we finally arrived at Virginia Beach,

from our old school, one of them was in Rich-

chucked our luggages into our hotel, and ran to-

mond, and the other was in Harrisonburg. I had

wards the gleaming-endless ocean. While laying

recently accepted an internship and was finally

the towels on the warm sand, I grabbed my sun-

getting settled in my duties. Stressed from our

screen and sprayed myself. My arms glistened

jobs and daily lives, we decided to make a sponta-

under the sun and we all sat down simultaneous-

neous trip to a nearby beach. It was the first sum-

ly, letting out a collective sigh of relief. For a day,

mer that my parents allowed me to travel with

I didn’t have to think about my internship that I

just my friends and I didn’t care where we went,

had to return to on Monday. I slowly closed my

as long as I was with them and far away from

eyes, letting the sun kiss my skin. Only a few mo-

home –– I was happy. Over text, we quickly made

ments later, I could feel a dark shadow loom over

hotel arrangements and packed our luggages for

me. “Do you want some?” I opened my eyes to

a weekend getaway to the beach. Bottles of sun-

see a tub full of fresh watermelon hovering over

screen and clothing were stuffed into my small

my face. We each grabbed a piece and laid down

navy suitcase. The next day, we slept over at my

on the sand-covered towels. Happy first week

friend's place and stayed up until 2 AM, singing

of summer.

karaoke and playing card games, even though we

Picking Up a Paintbrush After a Long Time When I was little, I used to draw all the time. I would make little comics and create stories all over the pages with my crayons and pencils. I even aspired to be a manga artist when I grew up, but those dreams were quickly shut down when my grandparents disapproved and my art teacher told me my work wasn’t any good. I remember having to complete a self portrait for my art class and upon submitting mine, my teacher pulled me aside and said that I needed to take the class seriously since my work looked “too cartoony” and not realistic enough. During high school, I rarely drew seriously or completed any pieces. The only art I ever made were the doodles on my class notes. Years later, during my first year of college, I met numerous artistic and creative individuals who had similar artistic aspirations as me and instead of being deterred by others, they pursued them. My closest friend and boyfriend were both artists and had their own online shops where they sold their work alongside other merchandise. Inspired, I wanted to do the same. My mom gave me her old iPad and I got to work, staying up until 3 AM trying to refine whatever artistic ability I had left. Although my style may not be suited for some peoples’ tastes, I love my “cartoony” style and am glad I am starting to find people who also appreciate more child-like illustrations over hyperrealism. 38

Unpacking the Last Cardboard Box In May 2020, my family packed our lives into

cardboard boxes and unarranged furniture. The

little cardboard boxes and moved ten minutes

rest of the house was in a similar manner; dining

away into a new home sitting on a cul de sac.

room chairs were placed in front of the TV while

The home was one of many new builds in a tiny

trash bags filled with winter coats occupied the

wooded residential area, where other small fami-

mudroom corner. The windows in my room were

lies were slowly moving in. On a particular chilly

a lot taller, allowing sunlight to spill onto the new

afternoon, I said one final goodbye to the home I

carpets. Downstairs, the sound of my sister’s

had spent most of my adolescence and a fraction

little feet and my baby brother’s giggles echoed

of my adulthood in. In this house, we had cele-

throughout the rooms. They finally had enough

brated numerous birthdays, welcomed new life

space to run around as my baby brother began

while simultaneously saying farewell to it. The

to have confidence crawling. It’s been over a year

floorboards creaked under my feet as I slowly

since we’ve settled into the unfamiliar place. My

tiptoed throughout the empty rooms. Little trin-

baby brother now bolts around the house while

kets that were long forgotten under the coach,

my sister sits on the couch, glued to her tablet.

now sat in the open, covered in dust bunnies

What once was an empty house with random

and crumbs. My dad and I grabbed the remain-

boxes and misplaced furniture, is now a lived-

ing knick knacks and hopped into his car. While

in home with a junk drawer filled with dried-out

he drove away my eyes were fixed on the little

pens and old letters, and a worn-out “welcome

green house with black shutters. My new bed-

home” mat by the main entrance.

room was an unfamiliar place, filled with dusty

Can You Put the Roof Down? Every Monday and Thursday, I pick up my baby sister from elementary school. Although she isn’t a baby anymore, we have a fifteen year age gap, so she’s still considered a baby to me. While the other kids from the other grades slowly run outside of the school after the bell rings, I wait for her among the other parents and siblings. She’s always one of the last to leave the building since she walks a bit slow. I often tease her because of that. Even though she wears a mask, you can still see the hint of worry in her eyes and the furrowing of her brows, wondering if I’m there or not. While zig-zagging through the parents, I can see her bobbing her head in all directions trying to search for me. When our eyes meet, I see her eyes light up and she runs towards me. Having someone that excited to see you is such a heartwarming feeling. Once we walk back to the car, she hops into her car seat and asks, “can you put the roof down?” I nod my head and press the top-down button on my car. Slowly, the roof recedes to reveal the harsh sun and warm breeze. While driving, I can see her in the rear-view mirror, reaching for the sky laughing while the wind tosses her hair back and forth, leaving it in a ribbon-like mess. I hope she’ll remember these short car rides when she’s older. 42

Arcade Night I was not a cool kid growing up since I didn’t

his feet onto the colorful platform while a small

have many friends and wasn’t allowed to go to

crowd of people stared in awe. After waiting in

birthday parties. The one time I was allowed to

line, the boy finally exhausted himself and it was

go to a party, it was my cousin’s friend’s birthday

finally our turn to play. I slid the play card into

at a REC center. I spent the entire afternoon

the card slot and Japanese vocaloid music began

playing Dance Dance Revolution by myself until

to blast. All my confidence withered away when

my face turned pink. Many years later my boy-

I saw a crowd anticipating for us to dance the

friend and I had one of our first dates together

same way as our predecessor. My coordination

and all those years of playing arcade games paid

was thrown off and I began tripping over my own

off, I was going to win. As soon as we entered

feet. Slowly the crowd started to disperse when

the arcade, the sounds of laughter, what seem-

the machine gave us both an “F.” I was prideful,

ingly sounded like lasers shooting, and a myriad

so card swipe after card swipe, we continued to

of video games rang in our ears. While walking

dance. An hour later, our legs turned into jell-o

around, the lingering scent of Windex and sweat

and our faces were flushed. The competition re-

smacked us in the face. “Want to play that?” I

sults were out and we got numerous As. It was

eagerly said while pointing toward the DDR ma-

only after the crowd was gone, that our coordina-

chine that glowed in the corner. A teenage boy

tion finally started to come together.

dripping in sweat was shuffling and slamming

Getting Ready to Go Out On the rare occasion that I don’t have any work or homework and I get to go out, I always like to dress up. Sometimes I find myself feeling awkward at large social gatherings, and in those cases, I actually prefer getting ready for the event than the actual event itself. The couple of hours where I am slowly getting ready, I get to be alone and in peace. Sometimes music plays softly in the background while I get all my necessary products set up. Since my eyes are constantly glued to a screen, this is the one time where I get to relax for a second. I can slowly pick out clothes that I want to wear, accessories I can mix and match, and apply my makeup too. If I’m not in a hurry, I can be more precise with my makeup application and it’ll feel like I’m painting on a canvas. The entire process is therapeutic in it’s own way. Sometimes I don’t look forward to an event itself, rather I look forward to this small moment where I get to be alone and get ready. 46

After a Long Day at the Amusement Park During the summer, my boyfriend and I took our

cream before hurrying to the next queue line. To-

first trip together and went to Southern Califor-

wards the end of the night, we became drained

nia. A few days before we had to come back to

from the heat and sluggishly walked toward our

Virginia, we went with his brother to Disneyland.

car. We barely spoke and dragged our aching

The morning of, we woke up at 5 AM and quickly

feet towards the lot while wearing our sweaty

made reservations for the new Star Wars ride.

mickey headbands. As soon as we sat in the car,

The night was especially warm that day and I

we all let out a collective sigh of relief. The AC

remember peeling the blanket from myself and

was blasting and soon we were heading back

crawling to the restroom to wash up with foggy

home. My boyfriend rolled down the windows

eyes. After getting ready, we all hopped into his

and I could feel the cool air slowly fill the car. Al-

brother’s car and made the trip to Disneyland.

though we ate continuously throughout the day,

The neighborhood was still fast asleep while we

the amount of walking we did caused all of our

drove away and I remember seeing the sky be-

stomachs to rumble and we quickly made a pit

ginning to turn blue and purple. The heat was

stop at Yoshinoya and brought home bowls full

merciless when we went, causing us to scurry

of steaming gyūdon and sodas. The sodas quick-

away into different attractions just to seek shade

ly began to sweat as we devoured the late night

throughout the day. We walked throughout the

meal. Shortly after our meal, we performed our

entire park and rode on numerous attractions.

evening routines and floated to our beds. Sleep-

Between the rides, we would stop by a snack

ing after a long day at the amusement park is the

stand and eat warm churros or melting ice

biggest relief.

Going to a New Art Exhibition I have always had a preference for “cute” art. That’s not to say I don’t have an appreciation for classical paintings and styles. Since I live close to Washington DC, I am just a twenty minute car ride away from numerous national museums and galleries that display art from different countries and time periods. I have always liked going to them, but wished there were more spaces that celebrated the types of work I was more interested in. Over the summer, I had my first experience with going to an exhibit I was eager to see: Yoshitomo Nara at the LACMA. I had seen many of his works online and couldn’t wait to see them in person. Upon entering the exhibition, I was amazed by the scale of the pieces. In the center of the room was a large white teacup holding four little figures that appeared to be tearful children. Looking around, I was so excited to see the minimal subjects scattered around the walls. It was refreshing to see traditional pieces that leaned towards a more simplistic style in a museum, that wasn’t abstract in subject matter. For so long, I would see my teachers and other individuals condemn these simplistic and “cute” styles and yet here these pieces were, being displayed in all their cute and impactful grandeur. 50

The Fall Festivals Have Finally Arrived I was born and raised in Virginia. I always envied

else do you miss?” I asked. She mentioned the

those who lived in large cities. The trees are too

annual fall festivals. I agreed. The fall festivals

tall and are huddled in large quantities. During

were one of the things I held to my heart dearly.

the Spring, my allergies from them turn breath-

I have memories of going to them since Kinder-

ing into a laborious chore. The roads are dark

garten and falling down the piles of haystacks. I

and are especially bad when I used to slowly

remember constantly going to them as field trips

drive through the old suburban neighborhood I

and one year, I just stopped. When I was in high

lived in. With each house I passed, lights from

school, I rarely went. If I remember correctly, I

the busy intersection would get swallowed up

think I only went once since I no longer found

by the towering trees until it was just me on the

them entertaining. This routine changed after I

lonely and dark street. It wasn’t until I recently

started college again and sought after my child-

visited my cousin in LA, that my perspective had

hood memories. I went with my close friends

shifted. “I miss Virginia,” she’d say. Of course,

an hour before the farm was closing for the day.

having been there my whole life, I didn’t see any-

Walking along the crunchy leaves and seeing the

thing special and was confused. She said she

same haystacks that sat under a long metal slide,

missed the tall trees I loathed since downtown

made me feel like I was in Kindergarten again.

LA barely had any, just grey buildings. “What

Dusting off Your Winter Coat Although I do love a good fall festival, nothing quite compares to the early days of December, when you can feel the eagerness of everybody anticipating snow and the coming holidays. By then, the skies are grey and lonely since most birds have already migrated south. The air is crisp and you can breathe onto the windows, leaving behind little art pieces. The cheery atmosphere signals that it’s time to dust off your winter coat and head onto the streets. My favorite winter coat is a short beige puffer coat. It makes me feel like I’m being hugged by a little cloud while I waddle outside. Wearing this coat while holding hot chocolate in one hand and a hand warmer in the other, makes it finally feel like winter. The cold often reminds me of when my family decided to go to Busch Gardens and see the Christmas Town decorations, many years ago. The town looked like it came out of a children’s storybook. In the central square, a clock tower adorned with twinkling string lights stood over small European looking shops and restaurants. Every wreath and garland had been strung with care and every light made the smiling faces below beam with joy. While walking around the town, you could hear the murmurs of people and the soft Christmas tunes playing on the overhead speakers. It finally began to feel like the holiday season. 54

Spring Cleaning My room often appears messy and unorganized

ever I’m sorting through the clutter, I often find a

when you first walk in. I’m occupied with school,

few items that bring back memories: A mustard

work, and personal projects so as a result, my

yellow scarf I wore in Chicago that saved my neck

room appears neglected. When I was little, this

from the merciless blizzard, an old leather bag I

never used to be the case and I would constantly

bought as a reward for landing my first part-time

have my sheets made and my floors were emp-

job, and an old worn-out pair of sneakers that

ty. Now, I have a messy but organized system of

were once white but are now beige. It was time

moving the pile of clothes from my bed to my

to find them a new loving home. Throughout my

vanity chair when I sleep, and moving it back to

twenty-two years on this Earth, I have accumu-

my bed when I get ready. Of course, this is not

lated a lot of stuff. Because of this, I would often

how I would like my room to look like ideally, but

read and watch Marie Kondo content in order to

this is the system that is in place. When the mess

motivate myself to let things go. Although I don’t

begins to bother me, I get a burst of energy and

watch her content anymore, I still implement a

end up cleaning my entire room, including the

lot of her techniques in order to feel refreshed

gloomy pile of clothes that migrate around the

and have a neat room. Clearing my room often

room. I had a phase in high school where I would

feels like I am clearing my head of unproductive

often watch ASMR cleaning videos on YouTube

thoughts, it helps especially when I have to tack-

and these would motivate me throughout these

le a big project. This way, my mind can wander

random bursts. Sometimes I go back to these

and inspire creativity while my living space gets

videos and purge through my old room decora-

decluttered, win-win. There’s some space in my

tions and clothing. The room suddenly becomes

room now. Let’s discover more favorites to

cluttered and I am surrounded by my favorite

bring home.

things. My bountiful love is spilling over. When-

About Kat Pham Kat Pham is an aspiring children's book illustrator, graphic designer, and small business owner in northern Virginia. Her business, Honey Kiki Studio, is a one-woman graphic design studio specializing in a wide range of illustration styles, stationery creation, and creative identities. Ever since she was a child, she has drawn inspiration from nature, children’s book illustrations, and Japanese animations. With her work, she hopes to bridge the divide between the mundane and coziness. If you'd like to work together, contact me at Katpham441@gmail.com To support me or view more of my work, visit Honeykikistudio.com

Author photograph by Sarah Noelle / Sarahnheaton.com