Au revoir


When you’ve lost something, then you’d realize how big of a hole it has left behind.

It feels empty when I walk out and I no longer see you lifting your head to peek at me.

There is a void when I come home and I no longer see you eagerly waiting for me to play with you.

To my beloved dog, au revoir.

Writing about food – Me?

When I sit down on quiet nights to reminisce about my childhood, all I can think about is food. The little time that I got to spend with my father when I was a kid was always after dinner. My father would snuck me out, quietly away from my mother who’s rather strict about our diet then, and we would drive 20 minutes into town just to get satay.

It wasn’t particularly amazing satay. We would stop by to get a stick or two, happily munching away in front of the stall while getting smoked smelly. On the way back home, I would fall asleep in the car and my father would willingly carry me back home and tucked me in for the night.

Nowadays, when I obsessively jot down my day in my journal, the first thing I need to write down is my meals. What did I have? At where? Was it good? I even started a little notebook filled with recipes and notes about my little experimentations with baking. (More flour to add chewiness to my chocolate chip cookies.)


When I began my journey as a photojournalist, one of the projects that caught my eye was this photographer who went around documenting people who ate alone in our society that can’t seem to stomach ‘being alone’. And I started documenting bits and pieces about everything related to food – markets, stalls, recipes, people dedicated to food.

Throughout the years, my observations and experiences in documenting people showed me how easily food brings people together – just like the satay excursions. Almost every major festival has a symbolic dish of its own. Think eggs on Easter day, pineapple tarts on Chinese New Year, turkey for Thanksgiving, the list goes on and on. Families spend ages in the kitchen cooking up a huge homey meal during these festivals. Some families have their own secret recipes for certain dishes, and they have to have those dishes every year!

When dating a guy whose background was completely different from mine, I found the easiest way to introduce him to my culture was through food – my mother’s fried rice, fried mee hoon that I love, a warm bowl of porridge that will cure anyone’s homesickness.

Never would I have thought there will be a day I have to write about food for a living. Some truly happy moments that I have experienced involved me rolling my eyes back in satisfaction as I savoured food that tasted out of this world. But how do I translate all these feelings into words? How can I make people who are sitting behind a screen, taste?

I feel severely incompetent in expressing those moments. The people that I see talking about food are experienced brash chefs who spent years and years toiling away in the kitchen (think Anthony Bourdain, Gordan Ramsay). To be honest, on some days when I write about food, I feel useless. How can I make someone eat something with just words?


How can I convey the happiness that I feel when I eat something so tasty that it washes away all my stress from work that day? Or when I need a pick-me-up, I huddle in a corner with a tub of ice-cream or a simple chocolate bar and that would cheer me up instantly?

Seven years in the news industry, and I have chosen this path. I have made quite a few turns, far away from what I envisioned myself to be five years ago.

I have chosen this path. I know that I love documenting everything about food, especially the people who work so hard creating them. I love food – and here’s to hoping I am able to be my truest self when writing about it.



偶爾在睡意還沒離開我的時候 會不小心踢倒放在床腳的盒子
每次把它放好時 心裡總會涼一下



黑人作家James Baldwin能清清楚楚寫出被歧視的人們的感受,痛苦的經歷,那全是才華的功勞嗎?



朋友總會問起 為甚麼不接婚紗等類似的案子。
攝影師會喜歡 會愛上攝影是因為背後有他想說的故事。


“Talent is insignificant. I know a lot of talented ruins. Beyond talent lie all the usual words: discipline, love, luck, but, most of all, endurance.”


Whelp, here’s to me not being 25 anymore D:

Looking back, a lot have happened since 2009 – pursuing my studies abroad, finding my passion, falling out of love, exploring countries which I didn’t know their language, feeling at home and nostalgic in the mountains of Poland, falling in love, experiencing new cities on my own, meeting new people, being anxious over my career path, self-doubt, loneliness, regrets for not spending time with people who matter before they leave forever, feeling unsure about my decisions, feeling grateful for the times I was welcomed with wide-opened arms, bonding over pizzas in my mentor’s backyard, meeting new family members, saying the hardest goodbye to the person who mattered the most to me then, and coming home.

Things didn’t go quite as planned in the last few years since I got home. I missed a damn good opportunity, turned down a few to pursue other adventures, but I don’t regret any of my choices.

I gotta admit, this year has hit me the hardest and I’m grateful for the bunch of crazy people that will always have my back.

I may have strayed from my original path, but I made sure to learn something from my experiences and put them to use.

In 2015:

1. Common sense is not that common, really. I learn to stick to my principles and stand up for what I believe in. Even though the process may be slow, but I believe in doing things the right way and to see through it. And that I can’t right every wrong, especially when it’s not my wrong to fix.

2. Communication, even when it’s open communication, has a lot of layers to it. Humans are fickle-minded beings. I learn to care about only those that matter to me and to tune other things out. I can’t please everyone and the only person who can make myself happy is me.

3. My circle of friends have gotten smaller. I used to be the social butterfly, swinging from groups to groups. But this year, due to time and distance, I can’t simply split myself up. For those who manage to stick by me, even when my contact with you is sporadic, thank you. Thank you for still being my friend.

4. One step at a time. No matter how big the problem is, or how deep rooted it is, I can only do so much. Focus on the task ahead, and try not to think too far (thinking ahead is a good thing, but not always). Baby steps, Karuna. Baby steps.

5. Letting go. I thank you, for standing by me for the past five years. Things grew out of our control and they were no longer what I thought they would be in the beginning. I chose to let go and not drag it on for a few more years unsure whether the outcome is something that would be best for us. I wanted it to work out, but I couldn’t let go of my other responsibilities. Sorry for having to let you go the way I did. And thank you.

Here’s to another year ahead, and hopefully, I’ll be better.

The Summer Internship

For the past few months, I’ve been involved with ‘real life’. I’m currently interning at The Gazette in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Projects have been completed, photos taken, but I have yet to find the time to upload them. 

I’ve decided that I need to be out today after completing my stories. And at some point this week, I’ll be attempting to update whatever I can (photos, projects, links). 

I want to reconnect with stories, more stories. I need to find myself, so help me, would you? 


Good news! I got an internship in Cedar Rapids. For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been tediously looking for a car and an apartment. I finally got everything settled down last week.

I worked on a video, but until Vimeo agrees to upload it, I can’t get it posted here. So, look out for this space!

Chef’s block

There’s the writer’s block, I have the chef’s block.

I have always wanted to cook an Asian dish, or something close to home. So I tried the other day, but it turned out to be quite horrible. I don’t think being Asian makes me good at cooking Asian dishes or the fact that I was exposed to Asian food for 19 years.

And that is why I have stopped cooking for awhile while I am trying to figure out the right sauce for stir-fry and cooking.



Sometimes I like to experiment with my concepts. I’ll be working on a similar idea this weekend.

It’s been 3 years since I left home. I’m still miles away from my dream. It gets frustrating sometimes, but I’ll keep working on it.

The empty frames say what is in my heart – the things that I’ve missed out in my family’s and friends’ lives.