Lin, Summer (my nephew), Ping (Lin’s sister) and I spent a couple of days exploring Hongcun on Summers spring break. Hongcun (宏村) is a 900-year-old UNESCO World Heritage-listed village in southern Anhui Province, China.
While the village sights were abundant, the highlight for me was an early morning walk with Lin before the crowds awoke. Nothing beats the stillness of a morning in the countryside.
Summer and I exploring the back-alleys of Hongcun.
Every time I visit Lin's home village, one of the people I look forward to seeing most is her aunt. Communicating isn't easy because she speaks the local village dialect, and my Mandarin is still very limited. But somehow, we always find a way. She has one of the most generous, joyful spirits I've ever encountered- and an infectious laugh.
I asked Lin what her aunt's name is, and to my surprise, she doesn't know. Growing up, it was considered disrespectful to call your elders by their first names, so everyone simply called her Āyí ("Auntie"). Somewhere along the way, her actual name never came up.
So to us, she'll always be Āyí.
One of the highlights of my time in China was learning how to make green tea.
We spent a week in Lin's home village, a very, very small town on the outskirts of Nanjing. Every time I visit, I feel like I've been transported back to a simpler way of life. Lin's family has a small plot of land where they grow tea, and I'll probably share more about the village in another post, but for now... tea.
I've always loved green tea, but this experience gave me a completely new appreciation for what goes into each cup. We spent hours in the sun picking the leaves, then several more hours preparing and roasting them by hand.
The final result was the freshest green tea I've ever tasted.
We were able to bring home about a half pound, which lasted roughly a month. Every pot became a small reminder of Lin's family, their village, and the time we shared there.
Next time, I'll be packing less clothing and more tea.
A few days wandering between life and death, beauty and tragedy, past and present. The irony of travel: sometimes the more there is to reflect on, the less time there is to reflect.
Lin bought this outfit on TaoBao for $5 so we could do a photoshoot with her and her sister at the local temple…lol.
Oh, the joy our furry friends bring us.
Spent the afternoon exploring the ancient village of Wuxing Huaji in Lishui. The entire village has been transformed into a hotel, and it was really inspiring to see. It’s a dream of mine and Lin’s to one day own a small traditional home in a Chinese village- spending time immersed in slower practices of life.
“Qingtuan is a traditional Chinese delicacy from the Jiangnan region. Associated with the spring season and the Qingming Festival, these chewy, jade-colored treats are made by mixing glutinous rice flour with fresh mugwort or barley grass juice.” -Google
In other words; sounds very cool, tastes…not so good. But fun to make, nonetheless.
Just another day as the third wheel in Shanghai…
This is the first person I noticed in Shanghai reading something on paper. I felt obligated to document the sighting.
Spent the evening exploring Shanghai nightlife as the fourth wheel. Not much to write tonight, just wanted to continue uploading photos from my month spent in China. This is day 5, 25 more days of images to go :)
For complicated reasons, Lin and I decided to visit her family in China just 10 days before our flight. The only person in her family who knew we were coming was her sister and best friend, Ping. I completely blew the reunion photo of Lin and Ping, but you get the idea. (note to self: don’t shoot a seven year reunion photo on a rangefinder with a 1.4 lens)
From there, we ate lunch at a shopping mall and then surprised Ping with a stocking full of random American snacks, knickknacks and beauty products (this is a tradition anytime we visit China).
Shortly after that, we headed to the restaurant to surprise the rest of her family. We pulled it off. I still can’t believe it had been seven years…but that’s a whole other post I’ll save for the future. Please God never let that happen again.
The next day, Ping, Lin and I explored Jing’an Temple and rode bikes around the city. The images below pretty much sum it up. Theres even a photo of me in there ;) LOTS more photos from this trip coming soon.
Day two in any country over a 10-hour flight away tends to consist of disorientation, caffeine, and long photo walks.
The day’s adventures looked like: acclimating to our new apartment, wildly overpriced coffee, feeding cats, exploring markets, and walking 20,000 steps. Needless to say, I was exhausted by the end of the day, and slept like a dog.
I returned today from two different retreats held on consecutive days. One focused on spiritual practices for anxiety and the other on grief. I probably won’t do that combination again.
The retreats themselves were meaningful, but I entered already feeling a bit emotionally burned out and then spent two days surrounded by a talkative group carrying some very heavy things. Somewhere on day two, I realized what I probably needed wasn’t more reflection, conversation, or processing.
I think I needed more silence. Solitude. Less input.
Oh well. Here we are.
(Random side note: I was the only male attendee among 30 people, most of whom were over 60 years old. Unfortunately, I don’t have a group picture…though I wish I did.)
Oddly enough, the moment that stayed with me most from the retreats had very little to do with anxiety or grief directly. An elderly woman named Pat and I ended up talking about the spaces in our homes that bring us the most peace. She started describing the role of light in her favorite room. Morning light, specifically. The way it enters. The feeling of it. The comfort. She went on and on and I was with her every step of the way.
At some point, in the middle of two emotionally dense days, two strangers found a surprising amount of joy talking about light.
Not “filmmaking light.” Just the ordinary kind.
The kind of light that quietly shifts the feeling of an entire room. The kind that turns a kitchen into a sanctuary for fifteen minutes before work. The kind that accompanies grief at 6am, joy around a dinner table, loneliness in the middle of winter, or peace on an ordinary afternoon when nothing remarkable is happening at all.
I realized afterward that I’d never really had a conversation with a stranger centered entirely around light before, which struck me as strange because light plays such a massive role in our emotional lives. It is present in some of our most peaceful moments and some of our most sorrowful ones. It fills hospital rooms, childhood bedrooms, churches, kitchens, funeral homes, early mornings after loss, and evenings where everything feels okay for a little while.
Light becomes the canvas beneath so much of being human, yet we rarely talk about it. At least I don’t. And definitely not with non-filmmakers.
We talk about sadness, joy, anxiety, memories. But rarely the light that held those moments.
I left wondering if maybe part of why our conversation felt so unexpectedly joyful was because appreciation itself can be healing. Not solving. Not fixing. Just noticing. Maybe wonder is underrated. Maybe pausing long enough to notice something as ordinary as light softens us a little. Maybe it reminds us there is beauty accompanying our lives in ways we almost never acknowledge.
I don’t know.
But even in a retreat centered around grief, two people eventually found themselves orienting toward light.
Maybe we all do.
I’m exhausted after these past couple of days, but I realized I had a few photos from the other day of light moving through my living room.
Seemed fitting.
Enjoy.
Spent a week in Sedona for the premiere of my film, “A Sacred Pause.” It’s been two years in the making, and to premiere it just 10 miles from where we filmed was very meaningful. Bonus: we won best short documentary at the festival.
Been listening to Yussef Dayes a lot recently. The man plays with such passion and I find it infectious, and deeply inspiring: Yussef Dayes X Alfa Mist - Love Is The Message
Pizza knows how to pick a good spot.
More China pictures coming soon, but in the meantime, here is one short day in the life of an IVF treatment. It’s not fun. But photography and breakfast sandwiches are a great way to cope with the discomfort. If your looking at these images and recognize the room with the dvd player, I hope it gives you a laugh. Oh I also had stitches in my eyelid due to a cyst being removed. Enjoy!
Due to a random string of events, Lin and I find ourselves in Shanghai for a month.
Whenever there is backlit steam, I always gotta break out the camera :)
