as Tom and i were walking towards Yerba Buena from PacBell Park last Sunday afternoon, we passed this colorful piece of graffiti art at a freeway underpass pylon. it reminded me instantly of a short but powerful web essay i had read just last week. it was written by someone i'd never heard of before, Julie Ann Petersen, back in 1995. that seems like ancient history webwise, but what she has to say resonates with me deeply and is quite relevant, particularly with this weblogging experiment we started in AIC this summer. follow the few links to other pages and essays on her site as well. this is true visionary stuff boys and girls, breathtakingly so.

a few notes on yesterday's Asian parents issue:

i was amazed and moved at the outpouring of stories and testimonials both public (weblogged) and private (IM conversations) that came about as a result of Aaron's original weblog, and my response to it. even Giancarlo (who isn't exactly Asian) wrote an impassioned weblog response, which bears careful reading.

all in all, i hope anger and bitterness were tempered, and some kind of understanding reached, with these spontaneous gathering of words. i hope that people realized that others do care, and when hurt and bitterness is evident, that there are peers to turn to, who will listen, and who will tell their own stories. and, at the risk of sounding utterly maudlin, i hope that it was realized that there are more important things than money and material goods -- love will always trump those things which decay, rust, and lose value. when all is said and done, no matter the seeming distance between parent and child it's still all about love, not cell phones... caring, not car accessories.

and yet... i'm sure these words still ring hollow and come across as mere platitudes. so i'll end by just asking a few simple questions, applicable to all who read this:

when was the last time you said something nice to your dad, just from out of the blue?

when was the last time you gave something to your mom, and it wasn't on Mother's Day?

your mom and dad are your original treasures, who brought you up as their treasure: they may vanish tomorrow, or next month, or a year from now. or you may. don't leave the essential things unspoken, untold.

{ net.casting }
^