Hold Your Horses

AI-generated art by @oddatide

Art + photo by @jamesjeanart

Original source unknown

A few things to consider with (very quiet) Chinese New Year celebrations in tow:

• Hold your dreams and plans close. In a culture that promotes oversharing (which is rewarded by social platforms’ need for engagement, not just a desire for authenticity), I suppose I’m traditional in wanting to safeguard the ideas that are most precious until I’m ready. New-age philosophers will say otherwise, but you can be declarative in private; it keeps the magic within instead of diluting both your process and imagination with external commentary. (This, of course, depends on who and where you are in life. In my teens and early 20s, I wished I asked more questions. Now, I answer them—and find relief in being able to do without pressure.)
• Be intentional about what you consume. This is more a public reminder for myself than a soapbox finger-wag. Content is so bite-sized that even a bit of controlled scrolling feels harmless, but this, too, distracts and dilutes. To help get myself back on track, I’ve been watching Brian Eno interviews, whose takes on technology and art have been incredibly reassuring as a creative.
• Read more literary fiction. There were a few years, maybe even a decade, when I thought I had “outgrown” the category. It was incredibly shortsighted of me to assign more value to nonfiction genres because they seemed to benefit my output as an adult—and while much can be learned from the essays, memoirs, and textbooks of the world, I’m reminded of how fiction can often reveal even more. The stories I read as a child and teenager shaped my entire worldview, and I’m positive they’ve made me someone who is ceaselessly curious and, more importantly, wants to care. Fiction tells truth through imagination, and inspires me to ask deeper questions. More whys, not just hows.
• It seems like everyone is Chinese at this particular point in their life—a bizarre trend I have mixed feelings about as a Taiwanese American. I’d be remiss not to admit that there’s bitterness there; my parents raised me with all the confidence, and yet, there was a large part of my formative years when I knew my life would be easier, simpler, if I were not Chinese. I loved my identity in private, yet in public, sought to erase it as much as possible. And while I’m thrilled that more people are recognizing the wealth of knowledge and impact the Chinese have, this bizarre, cultural dress-up has been unsettling. The Year of the Snake was sexy and commodifiable; the Year of the Fire Horse has been watered down for the horse girls. I am proud of the visibility, but weary of dilution. What of the years before? What will come next year—is the Goat cool enough?
• But on a more positive note, the interest in the dos and don’ts of Chinese New Year has me giddy. There is so much symbolism behind every action or inaction—an incredible display of how this is a culture that values language and continues as living proof that it is, in fact, always that deep.
• My “something new” for the day is vintage, but freshly washed and new to my closet: an oversized T-shirt with a watercolor horse printed on the chest, a most auspicious find at The Erre Vintage. I don’t have new shoes (as is customary) since Chinese households have a strict no-shoe policy—but I do have new indoor slippers that have brought incredible joy, whimsy, and glamour into my life. All things I hope to bring into this new year.

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新年快樂。Happy New Year.

xx