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words
from a
dream
from a
dream
v z t
в ж т
β ζ τ
譚 鈺 衡
覃 玉 行
담 옥 형
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prologue.
words
from a
dream
from a
dream
v z t
в ж т
β ζ τ
譚 鈺 衡
覃 玉 行
담 옥 형
prologue
Reader, hark to Words From a Dream, the honoring of my childhood and its emotions that continue to shape my life.
As a three-part collection of my poetry and artwork, it serves to tell you the story of who I am.
As a three-part collection of my poetry and artwork, it serves to tell you the story of who I am.
Click anywhere to continue.
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instructions
Click the dots above to move through chapters with captions.
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They will take you backward and forward.
They will take you backward and forward.
words
from a
dream
from a
dream
v z t
в ж т
β ζ τ
譚 鈺 衡
覃 玉 行
담 옥 형
words
from a
dream
from a
dream
I turn my head toward the sun,
for under its lights must I run.
As my chest fills with steam,
I become the one to scream.
As I observe the rising moon,
I walk toward its faded tune.
Underneath its blinding gleam,
hear one hundred words I dream.
for under its lights must I run.
As my chest fills with steam,
I become the one to scream.
As I observe the rising moon,
I walk toward its faded tune.
Underneath its blinding gleam,
hear one hundred words I dream.
To the one who reads this, to the one who hears my story, I bring you the tale from the foundations of my mind.
I had traveled to the land of loud creatures and spirited beasts, the realm of those who climbed the trees and trailed the paths. In the enumeration of my words, my account begins with the night sky that marked my rest. Through the silence reserved to my bed, only then did my mind wander and walk the passage to this dream.
I had traveled to the land of loud creatures and spirited beasts, the realm of those who climbed the trees and trailed the paths. In the enumeration of my words, my account begins with the night sky that marked my rest. Through the silence reserved to my bed, only then did my mind wander and walk the passage to this dream.
hypnagea
volume I: my hypnose
volume I
Alas is my secret garden.
And as you try to seek me,
to wonder where I am,
I come to tell you this.
Do not ask for me.
Do not find me.
Do not disturb
the silence of my sleep.
And as you try to seek me,
to wonder where I am,
I come to tell you this.
Do not ask for me.
Do not find me.
Do not disturb
the silence of my sleep.
Upon opening my eyes, I rose from the tall grass that offered its kind shade.
Curious guest to that which brought me to this realm, I stood up to walk the road I could see. Now entering the path of mist and mire, I stumbled and slipped into the elusive forest before me.
Curious guest to that which brought me to this realm, I stood up to walk the road I could see. Now entering the path of mist and mire, I stumbled and slipped into the elusive forest before me.
The Eternal
Sunshine
I like to be an explorer, like the great Magellan.
Truman Burbank,
Andrew Niccol and Peter Weir's
The Truman Show
I wonder what they are all thinking right now. Could I talk as if we were friends?
I wonder if they would mind if I wanted to hear the wind, smell the air, and reach beyond the clouds. Would they hate me for blocking the sky?
I wonder if they would mind if I wanted to hear the wind, smell the air, and reach beyond the clouds. Would they hate me for blocking the sky?
The Truman Show is a movie about a man who slowly learns that his life has been the subject of a television show, curated by unknown forces.
This chapter illustrates Truman Burbank's wish to find friends and see the world for what it could be, yet is confined to a realm separate from others.
This chapter illustrates Truman Burbank's wish to find friends and see the world for what it could be, yet is confined to a realm separate from others.
Morrowmores
O' glorious newfound Eden,
Do you regard me as your guest?
My walk is measured with burden,
and I simply desire to rest.
As I dream of your high comforter,
In the haven of new hosts,
do you reject me as your visitor,
do you ignore me in your toast?
Fortune, the hearth I seek to bear,
Shall you forsake me as you fare?
Thus blows the westerly wind; thus comes my next movement.
Reader, you who has begun to watch my stride—I do not have any words for you right now, as I only implore you to watch the clouds move alongside me.
The Magpie and the Martyr
It was a small white-eye bird, with feathers missing here and there. Below toothmarks which looked to have been caused by a predator’s bite, vivid red bloodstains were spreading.
Yeong-Hye,
Han Kang’s The Vegetarian
Han Kang’s The Vegetarian
Hiding in the forest, under the night,
I have befriended the birds I delight.
As the sun sets and their eyes gleam,
I shall rise beyond this dream.
I have befriended the birds I delight.
As the sun sets and their eyes gleam,
I shall rise beyond this dream.
Han Kang's The Vegetarian is a Korean novella about a woman who is cast aside by society when she becomes a vegetarian.
Escaping from the fangs of others, Yeong-Hye finds the birds she once hurt. As the sky bleeds and the earth decays, she sits there with her new friends, beastlike yet more civilized than the humans who had forsaken her.
Escaping from the fangs of others, Yeong-Hye finds the birds she once hurt. As the sky bleeds and the earth decays, she sits there with her new friends, beastlike yet more civilized than the humans who had forsaken her.
I named this chapter after the magpie, the national bird of South Korea. As Yeong-Hye becomes a victim of South Korea’s persecution, she and the magpies beside her stand as the martyrs of this painting.
The Ballad of
Unbearable
Silence
I have dined with those who imagine,
Of the days to come, the years to arrive.
I watch their faces light with grins,
For they worship the gift of feeling alive.
Yet the call for my presence is just too large,
And I must arrive upon this reality,
The one where I must now take charge,
For this meal is grim, bleak in totality.
Of the days to come, the years to arrive.
I watch their faces light with grins,
For they worship the gift of feeling alive.
Yet the call for my presence is just too large,
And I must arrive upon this reality,
The one where I must now take charge,
For this meal is grim, bleak in totality.
We ended in E minor, so now … F major. Start with the percussion, glockenspiel first.
First beat of the first measure, a high A, an F … and a C. Third measure, first beat, F, A, F … C.
Repeat.
I tell you my story of passionate indifference.
I offer this tale of curses, vexes, and the ultimate unbearable fact that is one who must be within time. Here is one of many accounts within the mind, provided as I wish to seek the goodness people give as their objection. Yet even in this world where we meet, of all the people I come to see, they are unimpressive to the fullest.
daemarium
volume II: my daymare
volume II
I shake my head and start to say,
“Hideous!”, I yell it every day.
For my vulgar mood
And my grotesque face
Have bewitched all good
To now lay waste.
Of arms that shine of red distress,
And eyes that glare with pure detest,
They are symbols for which I say:
Hear the story of my dismay.
“Hideous!”, I yell it every day.
For my vulgar mood
And my grotesque face
Have bewitched all good
To now lay waste.
Of arms that shine of red distress,
And eyes that glare with pure detest,
They are symbols for which I say:
Hear the story of my dismay.
With the towering sky glaring at my footsteps, I ran past hundreds of forests and thousands of nights. As the trees chased me and the clouds overshadowed my path, I walked through the endless road for a symbol to stop.
Arriving at the point of my next movement, I now entered the dark cave that angrily watched me.
Arriving at the point of my next movement, I now entered the dark cave that angrily watched me.
The Well
The hushing silence at the center of my heart is not for one to find quiet in. Amidst its calm, I can only bring you the bothersome sounds from the bottom of this well.
Hear my vulgar attitude,
Hear me roar with glee.
See my enraged fortitude.
See all that is me.
I bring you to this land,
To feast your eyes upon him.
To the one they cannot stand,
The one they sing their hymn.
My Opened
Castle Doors
As day becomes night and night becomes day, I become trapped in this median of calamity.
As numbers become letters and letters become numbers, I become confined to this universe in between.
As numbers become letters and letters become numbers, I become confined to this universe in between.
My Opened Castle Doors has become the realm that has confined us to the trances others can never see.
Our castle doors have been forced open, yet we must continue moving forward. An invisible plight rules the obsessed, and even the slightest movements trap their minds in agony.
Our castle doors have been forced open, yet we must continue moving forward. An invisible plight rules the obsessed, and even the slightest movements trap their minds in agony.
Visions of Milton
Th’ Eternal to prevent such horrid fray,
Hung forth in Heav’n his golden Scales...
Hung forth in Heav’n his golden Scales...
John Milton, Paradise Lost
As I saw him walk with his elegant posture, I was only infatuated. I wanted him, to be everything he was, possess everything he had—and yet, madly stay by his side.
However, as I kept watching, I only wanted to break him and destroy everything he was. I was simply disgusted.
However, as I kept watching, I only wanted to break him and destroy everything he was. I was simply disgusted.
The Ruins Ruminare
"This is my final fit ... my final bellyache."
Thomas Edward Yorke,
No Surprises
No Surprises
The Ruminare is the asylum against what once ravaged his mind. Beyond its grand composure lie the shambles to grace.
As the sunlight has grown toxic, the man must now cower in the unreachable. The artwork personifies those who cannot stop thinking in their solitude. Ruminating over their own pasts, they have built their own ruins.
As the sunlight has grown toxic, the man must now cower in the unreachable. The artwork personifies those who cannot stop thinking in their solitude. Ruminating over their own pasts, they have built their own ruins.
I named this chapter after the Latin word, rūmināre—to ruminate.
This artwork illustrates the action of pondering a thought so deeply that you build your life around it, sculpting it into the abbey within The Ruins Ruminare.
This artwork illustrates the action of pondering a thought so deeply that you build your life around it, sculpting it into the abbey within The Ruins Ruminare.
One Day
Forward
[I]n a burst of light that blinded every angel, as if the sky had blown the heavens into stars, you felt the gravity of tempered grace ... falling into empty space.
Michael Kenji Shinoda,
Iridescent
Iridescent
I wanted to present my gifts,
And touch the clouds
to reach beyond the sky.
But maybe they won’t like it when I reach the sun. Maybe they’ll hate me for blocking the sky.
So maybe I must fly away.
Forever and ever.
And touch the clouds
to reach beyond the sky.
But maybe they won’t like it when I reach the sun. Maybe they’ll hate me for blocking the sky.
So maybe I must fly away.
Forever and ever.
noctreame
volume III: my nightdream
volume III
To the voices that wake me from my sleep,
To the sacredly foul for whom I weep,
Beyond my slumber do dreams end,
As to the outside world must I tend.
My dance shall soar past these clouds,
And in the night will I escape this crowd.
To run through streets in quiet peace,
And find how the noises finally cease.
To the sacredly foul for whom I weep,
Beyond my slumber do dreams end,
As to the outside world must I tend.
My dance shall soar past these clouds,
And in the night will I escape this crowd.
To run through streets in quiet peace,
And find how the noises finally cease.
Having found fatigue for what was weary, I trudged through the streams with longing for all that was good.
Now walking away from the noise that had once pulled me back, I looked to the distant sensation that asked for my presence.
Now walking away from the noise that had once pulled me back, I looked to the distant sensation that asked for my presence.
A Hymn to the
Weary Wanderer
Thank you for humoring me.
For humoring the curious eyes
Unto those it wants to see.
Thank you for smiling with me,
For smiling with the ones,
I had once longed to be.
Reader, I urge you to stop and find the endlessness of this quest we are born into. Even I would not smile at such an endeavor to behold.
The wall, the box, and even the entire realm of bedrock are suffocating in such limitless boredom. As one sits and wallows, inconsequentiality has set in.
The wall, the box, and even the entire realm of bedrock are suffocating in such limitless boredom. As one sits and wallows, inconsequentiality has set in.
My Sacred Pond
In hind of sight, no peace of mind,
Where it begins and we'll be fine.
Shadows bend and suddenly,
the world becomes,
And swallows me...
Where it begins and we'll be fine.
Shadows bend and suddenly,
the world becomes,
And swallows me...
Victoria Garance Alixe Legrand,
On the Sea
On the Sea
My Sacred Pond is the story of a boy with a mind he wishes to protect. He must keep it from others, for it is sacred—and thus secret.
The quote is from Beach House's, On the Sea, a song that evokes profound melancholy and retrospect whenever I listen to it.
The quote is from Beach House's, On the Sea, a song that evokes profound melancholy and retrospect whenever I listen to it.
The Prince of Cherry Cliff
Where does the sea meet the sky? Where does the sun greet the clouds?
Come beside me, for I shall stand on this cliff I watch from.
Come beside me, for I shall stand on this cliff I watch from.
The Prince of Cherry Cliff was inspired by Habiballah of Sava's Concourse of the Birds, a 17th-century Iranian folio.
This artwork parallels the unique artistic styles found within the Iranian work of his time, augmented with East Asian subjects that offer a thematic twist to the piece.
This artwork parallels the unique artistic styles found within the Iranian work of his time, augmented with East Asian subjects that offer a thematic twist to the piece.
Do not be alarmed, reader, for here stands the cliff some have watched the sea from. Under the cherry blossom tree, it is a point undisturbed by others, harboring the unexplored and unquantifiable serenity some wish to enjoy before the noise of a laborious day.
To even inquire about the beautiful view would be an escape from lamenting the issues that bother us when we return to that village, under the cliff and by the shore of the flowing sea.
To even inquire about the beautiful view would be an escape from lamenting the issues that bother us when we return to that village, under the cliff and by the shore of the flowing sea.
Us and Them
With every heartbeat I have left,
I'll defend your every breath.
Ryan O'Neal, Light
As they sit in silence, the man guards them against the yoke of those who once deemed them lesser.
This artwork personifies the stories of creatures who once thrived, yet must now hide from the horrors of the masses.
The Silentarian
As I ran past the minds of many, I escaped those who once bound me.
Reaching the light past these fetters, I finally found the land they called:
The Quietest Moment in Life.
This piece depicts the Silentarian, an allegorical youth who had wandered into the clearing of a now deserted forest.
He personifies the sanctuaries of those who seek refuge from those who seek them, dreaming of quiet in the face of calamity.
I named this chapter after the silence that one may long for in times of chaos—an imaginary place to take refuge in.
Given the suffix, -arian, the Silentarian thus becomes one who advocates, believes in, or is associated with silence.
Given the suffix, -arian, the Silentarian thus becomes one who advocates, believes in, or is associated with silence.
awaecea
volume IV:|
my awakening
I wandered into the lake,
The one that welcomed me.
And in the silence of the night,
Its light beckoned to be free.
It beckoned for someone,
For just one person to see.
The one that welcomed me.
And in the silence of the night,
Its light beckoned to be free.
It beckoned for someone,
For just one person to see.
After the thunderous storm had passed, I heard the birds of the sunrise chirp their victory.
As I listened to the sweet music of the dawn, I greeted the one that finally cleared the mist.
As I listened to the sweet music of the dawn, I greeted the one that finally cleared the mist.
words
from a
dream
from a
dream
At the edge of light they claimed their own,
I walked to the cliff away from time.
Beside the sea laid before the stone,
I knelt by the waters that joined its rime.
In the silence did I search a poem,
For I began to read from its last lines:
“Now entered, to return to the bright land;
And without care of having any rest
We mounted up, he first and I the second,
Till I beheld through a round part
Some of the beauteous things Heaven doth bear;
Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.”
I walked to the cliff away from time.
Beside the sea laid before the stone,
I knelt by the waters that joined its rime.
In the silence did I search a poem,
For I began to read from its last lines:
“Now entered, to return to the bright land;
And without care of having any rest
We mounted up, he first and I the second,
Till I beheld through a round part
Some of the beauteous things Heaven doth bear;
Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.”
words
from a
dream
from a
dream
e n d
е н д
ε ν δ
最 後 的
冂 口 白
최 후 적
-
Click anywhere to read
the epilogue.
epilogue
Dear reader,
Thank you for reaching the end of Words From a Dream.
Thank you for reaching the end of Words From a Dream.
I remember wandering into my father’s study when I was 4, restless beyond my 8 o'clock bedtime. To entertain me, he opened a drawing book and taught me how to trace shapes and draw animals.
That night began the art of Words From a Dream, the personification of my inner emotions. Each artwork illustrates both the raw grief and pure joy in my life.
That night began the art of Words From a Dream, the personification of my inner emotions. Each artwork illustrates both the raw grief and pure joy in my life.
With each poem I draft or illustration I sketch, I will continue to add to this collection.
Thus, I thank those whose works aided mine, especially those whose pieces became artistic assets, quoted texts, or even just ideas that moved me. With the myriad of resources I have used, I must give credit to the creations not of mine, and to the artists, musicians, writers, poets, and thinkers who have inspired me.
Thus, I thank those whose works aided mine, especially those whose pieces became artistic assets, quoted texts, or even just ideas that moved me. With the myriad of resources I have used, I must give credit to the creations not of mine, and to the artists, musicians, writers, poets, and thinkers who have inspired me.
Yet, I must also dedicate this to my past teachers who encouraged me to express myself through the seemingly unknown.
Thank you,
to those who taught me literature, art, music, history, and philosophy. Thank you, to Jiesong, Ellis, Jeannie, Liliya, Kerry, Bryant, Joel, Emilio, Alicia, Minkyu, Cynthia, Kiki, Allison, Dario, Sean, Sreekumar,
Thank you,
to those who taught me literature, art, music, history, and philosophy. Thank you, to Jiesong, Ellis, Jeannie, Liliya, Kerry, Bryant, Joel, Emilio, Alicia, Minkyu, Cynthia, Kiki, Allison, Dario, Sean, Sreekumar,
to those before them,
to the many more to come,
and lastly, to those reading this.
to the many more to come,
and lastly, to those reading this.
Thank you.
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