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  • Lynn Kim Do

    Lynn Kim Do

    there's nothing to hide and no one to hide from, especially yourself
















    I embraced every ounce of sun that grazed my face. Inked the palm trees into my mind so it can permanently live there. Sunk into the dirt to ground myself. Whispered prayers to the rocks that must have moved and sang in the hay-days. Sunrises made my knees weak. Sunsets made my limbs and eyes quiver. Hung on to every single word that dripped from my friends’ lips. Quenched it with more rosé when we were thirsty.

    “Lynn, I had a crazy two months,” my friend said. “Yeah, me too," I admitted.

    On two different coasts but problems aren’t biased to weather or landscape. He shared. I shared. He shared again. Then, I. The wine disappearing faster than our minds can think, our mouths can speak. We spilled every ounce of frustration, insecurities, hopes, and desires. I told him I wanted to act. He told me he had plans for TV. We talked blogging. Hated it. Admitted we couldn’t escape it. Gave advice. Or sat and just listened. Depression became a topic. Then our strong admiration for alcohol. Maybe too strong. We dismissed ‘having a problem’. But the most striking tone of our random all-over-the-place chat roulette is the honesty. No judgement. Advice and thoughts given whether asked for or not. And appreciated nonetheless. Not happy with something? We did something about it. Uprooted if we had to. I realized we never settled nor made a home out of our individual unhappiness. Fuck no. He uprooted from his new home to make a new home only to leave again to finally find it. While I left a partnership to pursue it solo and decided to embark a new road many drop off on the wayside. We are the champions of our lives. But it sure doesn’t feel that way, sometimes. “My life feels like a vicious cycle,” he concluded. “No, babe, it’s evolving,” I contracted. We laughed at our own sky high standards we clearly created to make ourselves miserable. And productive. It’s hard on our self-worth and makes us blind to our growth. “You are climbing up this beautiful ladder of life and you think it’s a circle of problem and change and problem and change but I see you climbing and yes, problems will arise but that’s because each step has it’s own set of problems. But these problems are easier. I see that even though it may feel hard for you in this very moment. You're a survivor. You've survived worse. I hope you see it, too.” I had to get him to see it, convinced that it’ll ease his mind. Strangely enough, it was easing mine as well. A conclusion I formed with my ears and heart wide open. A conclusion that helped me, too. And this was a conversation, our entire conversation, in fact. And our entire experience. My entire experience in Los Angeles. We don’t asked to be changed. We change in these subtle moments. In sharing a piece of yourself while receiving another.

    Images by Dathias Godfrey & Kim Geronimo / Assisted by Alithea Castillo


    . December 19, 2017 .

    A Lesson In LA

    . December 19, 2017 .
















    I embraced every ounce of sun that grazed my face. Inked the palm trees into my mind so it can permanently live there. Sunk into the dirt to ground myself. Whispered prayers to the rocks that must have moved and sang in the hay-days. Sunrises made my knees weak. Sunsets made my limbs and eyes quiver. Hung on to every single word that dripped from my friends’ lips. Quenched it with more rosé when we were thirsty.

    “Lynn, I had a crazy two months,” my friend said. “Yeah, me too," I admitted.

    On two different coasts but problems aren’t biased to weather or landscape. He shared. I shared. He shared again. Then, I. The wine disappearing faster than our minds can think, our mouths can speak. We spilled every ounce of frustration, insecurities, hopes, and desires. I told him I wanted to act. He told me he had plans for TV. We talked blogging. Hated it. Admitted we couldn’t escape it. Gave advice. Or sat and just listened. Depression became a topic. Then our strong admiration for alcohol. Maybe too strong. We dismissed ‘having a problem’. But the most striking tone of our random all-over-the-place chat roulette is the honesty. No judgement. Advice and thoughts given whether asked for or not. And appreciated nonetheless. Not happy with something? We did something about it. Uprooted if we had to. I realized we never settled nor made a home out of our individual unhappiness. Fuck no. He uprooted from his new home to make a new home only to leave again to finally find it. While I left a partnership to pursue it solo and decided to embark a new road many drop off on the wayside. We are the champions of our lives. But it sure doesn’t feel that way, sometimes. “My life feels like a vicious cycle,” he concluded. “No, babe, it’s evolving,” I contracted. We laughed at our own sky high standards we clearly created to make ourselves miserable. And productive. It’s hard on our self-worth and makes us blind to our growth. “You are climbing up this beautiful ladder of life and you think it’s a circle of problem and change and problem and change but I see you climbing and yes, problems will arise but that’s because each step has it’s own set of problems. But these problems are easier. I see that even though it may feel hard for you in this very moment. You're a survivor. You've survived worse. I hope you see it, too.” I had to get him to see it, convinced that it’ll ease his mind. Strangely enough, it was easing mine as well. A conclusion I formed with my ears and heart wide open. A conclusion that helped me, too. And this was a conversation, our entire conversation, in fact. And our entire experience. My entire experience in Los Angeles. We don’t asked to be changed. We change in these subtle moments. In sharing a piece of yourself while receiving another.

    Images by Dathias Godfrey & Kim Geronimo / Assisted by Alithea Castillo


    . December 13, 2017 .









    When people ask you what you’re passionate about, do you hesitate before saying whatever it is that comes to your mind after intense probing? When you look into the future, do you draw blanks? Yeah, me too. For the longest time, I never understood the idea of passion. I felt like I was passionate about everything and then nothing at the same time. I would then feel empty again. Doing things, working on things, just for the sake of doing it, continuing it. Because what I hate more than this rollercoaster of feelings is not finishing something I started. So I work from project to project, heart to heart, one occupation to the next within the creative industry. I felt guilty for not being ultimately happy for the jobs I was and am doing. I felt guilty because I wasn’t, perhaps, grateful enough. I was making money. I was creating. I was being appreciated for my ideas (for the most part). But I knew in the pit of my stomach, I wasn’t being fed. I would eat and eat, but I was sustaining. I wasn’t thriving. But I should be happy to be fed at all, right? So I came to terms with it. After-all, a drawback to being a Jane of all trades is that you become a master of none.

    There’s a better ending to this story, I promise.

    A few months ago, I had a very honest conversation with myself. I felt an abyssal desire to revisit an old passion I simply overlooked or perhaps consciously closed off. Like an old lover, I analyzed our beginnings and ends. It was acting. I proceeded to make a ton of excuses on why I shouldn’t do it. “I don’t have time right now.” “I’m too old, right?” “Why should I do this if I don’t know if I’ll go far on it?” “Shouldn’t I put this money I’m about to invest into something else? Something better?” “What if I suck?” “Fuck, do I suck?” “What about all these other things I’ve already invested in?” I told my mind to “SHUT THA FUCK UP”. I gave myself a hard stare. So hard, I stared right through me, peeled behind all the doubts, insecurities, the shields and walls of safety and comfortability, and I whispered, “You are better than this” in the most loving and compassionate tone.

    A few months after that, I have had some ups and downs but I am so happy. I am happier than my most happy days before this. I am more fed, full, and satisfied. Guys, I think I have finally found MY passion. This shit is not a fairytale that movies or the government or our parents sell to us. It just may take longer. Be patient. Be kind to yourself. And be brave.

    Images by Pedro Morales
    . December 6, 2017 .







    Making sure people like you shouldn’t be your priority. But making sure people you love know you love them, well that’s my priority.

    But sometimes, it can be so damn hard. Especially when everyone around you IS ACTING ALL TYPES OF CRAZY. And life isn’t always mango sorbets and falling in love in the subway. It isn’t random Bachata sessions outside your apartment or finding a dollar bill in your pocket. Sometimes, just SOMETIMES, and even sometimes is too often, it’s stepping on fresh dog shit. It’s spilling coffee on your shirt the moment you step into the office. It's a passive aggressive text message from your friend. I hate when I receive that "k." text. It’s layers and layers of mundane seemingly little bullshit that just irks you. And I realize...feelings are so temporary. Friendships and trust shouldn’t be. They aren’t. Not the real ones. Not the ones you made wholehearted decision to call your best friend and vow to protect, to call family, to remember every single allergies of theirs like they’re your own. People will be people. In fact, people are human. But not every human is my soul-friend. So no, I refuse to please everyone. I'm selective in my friends just as I am selective in my wardrobe, food choices, and pretty much everything. You have to be. Time and energy and money are all precious things. And it took me a long time to decipher all these complex feelings. What’s worth never turning back for, never crossing a bridge again? What’s worth fixing? Worth letting go. And worth just laughing off.

    Images by Corey Jermaine