moon

This past year has been a period of instability in my identity; some changes have been pleasant, others less so, and much confusion remains. But one thing, I suppose, is unchanged: I'm Asian! And this year, something unusual occurred: I observed the Moon Festival.

Typically, I forget about the holiday until it has passed, or I make an attempt to watch the moon, but it's cloudy and/or raining. This year, I had some help. My mother provided me with a moon cake when I saw her last week, and when I spoke to her on the phone last night, she reminded me about the Moon Festival. So I opened up my moon cake package, climbed to the roof, and in the perfect September air, watched the moon.

Lotus paste, no yolk: just the way I like it.

Moon over Brooklyn, 2013

The paradoxically smooth yet grainy lotus paste, the oily pastry that leaves my fingertips greasy, the scent of jasmine tea – all familiar things that remind me of home. I would have liked to have shared these moments with a certain special someone, but maybe it's enough to have experienced them at all.