CLICK-CLACK
Every day, I take a little time to write, typing up bits and pieces of ideas that flow through my head. Ideas ebb and flow. Some days, I have lots to type, thousands of words funneling from my brain to the screen with little thought but on other days, even a hundred words takes me an hour to put down. Google Docs may be the exhibition hall my ideas lie in now, crowded with hundreds of documents ranging from one-tenth of a page to five pages long, but I took a slightly more traditional approach back then: pen and paper. Moreover, they weren’t even the written word, they were maps.
Ever since I was little, I’ve been passionate about creating stories, specifically stories that resonated with me. Whether they were trails I biked past or scenes I saw in movies, they were reflected in the intricate maps and world-building I outlined on (too) many pieces of 8.5x11 paper. Oftentimes, they would be amplified versions of a specific feeling in a specific place, such as the sunsets I would gaze out at while biking on twisty, turny Via Del Mar and the relaxed, beach-y vibe it gave off.
My creation, Eastside in Svenska, was a massive “expansion” on that with multiple beaches lining the coastline road and in my imagination, floor-to-ceiling glass-paneled and Spanish-style houses dotting the community, much like where I grew up. Subconsciously, I also reflected what I had learned that day such as on the day after the “California Missions” project we did in 4th grade, I added churches all over my map while envisioning white-walled, red-roofed casas as the vision behind it. After my hard work in etching out every detail of these worlds, from the metros to the government structure, I would lie in bed envisioning these worlds and imagine even more details in my head. Thinking about it, half of my world-building was purely in my head, opening up the possibility of escaping to somewhere other than home or the same-old at a moment’s notice. Even if it was just for a few moments, I felt like I had wings, the ability to go anywhere, real or not.
Maps have always been something that I’ve held dear to my heart, the tiny roads leading to my destination as much as it led to memories for me. In my travels, I would always collect maps from wherever I went and stuff them at the bottom of my luggage, scooping them out at the end of my journey to bring my heart back to my travels as if to savor it for just a moment more.
As I grew older, I began expressing my memories of a moment in time (much like Maison Margiela’s Replica fragrances) in words, first in diary entries and then slowly short stories where I’d try to capture as much of the emotional and visual detail as possible. It’s as if I was capturing it in text so I could reference back to that memory in a single glance and feel it wash me anew, much like what I did with the maps I collected. I remember once standing in the middle of a traditional wet market in Taiwan and taking in the noises: aunties and uncles advertising fresh beef, fish, or produce from their vendors with the words 新鮮 (fresh) barely peeking through the time-worn layers of grime, shouting 來喔 (come!) in Hokkien or the busy crowd of all ages alike bargaining for the best deal under a shabby steel awning. Not wanting to forget this moment and feeling of connection to my culture, I began typing away furiously in my Notes app, as if those thoughts would disappear in a snap. 10 words became 100 and 100 soon became 1000. This story is just one of many stories sparked by ordinary moments like this. Like how Lazy Sunday Morning from Replica strives to capture the feeling straddling the line between a busy workday and a day well spent rotting in bed with the wind blowing through the window and for me, instead of smell, I seek to appeal to the sense of sight with the words I can meticulously match together to evoke the same feeling.
Though writing has become my main medium of creative expression, I haven’t forgotten my roots in maps. I often open Google Maps and zoom into a random place and start exploring it, no longer limited by the scope of physical maps. Though I warn, there is a potential for you to go down a rabbit hole of learning about one place then another after discovering it on a map. Trust me, I’ve gone through it. Lots of times.
