Counting down the days

One more week until the PCH road trip and weekend up North. We'll be skipping the 5 entirely, instead taking our time up the coast and indulging in all that this state has to offer. And yes, we'll be blasting some Beach Boys all the way up.

Five more weeks until the "Americans on an All-American Road trip across America." Guess where we're going?

America.

So stoked. Have to train my butt not to get sore on long car rides, however that's done.

水

I used to be chronically dehydrated, but ever since my new job, I've been drinking a lot more water. And it feels absolutely great. Not that this is significant in any way, but it's a fun fact that goes along with a picture that I sort of enjoyed.

Welcome home.

Cliffs at the end of Hawthorne

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Sometimes I can't help but stare in wonder at what I get to call home.

I'm one heck of a lucky guy.

My grandfather's jacket.

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The Story's in the Seams - Part Two

I never knew my grandfather. He passed away long before I was born, and all I have to remember him by are faded photographs and stories that I've heard from the rest of my family. He's the one who got my family to the United States, and all that I have, I am thankful to him for first and foremost. From what I've been told, we would've gotten along great.

Now, my grandfather was an incredibly frugal man. This was to be expected from someone who lost all of his possessions when he escaped North Korea atop a steam train and immigrated to Argentina, where he and his family worked a farm and market. He endured incredible hardship, gained and lost more times than I could ever imagine, but somehow managed to provide for his family, even sending my mom to USC.

My grandfather didn't leave behind much when he passed away, but by some strange instance of chance, I ended up with this handsome suede jacket of his. It is incredibly comfortable, and I marvel at the amount of life that has gone into it. The lining around the collar is worn through and discolored by the sun, and paint on the zipper is long gone, and the entire piece is broken-in beyond belief.

You see, even when he had money, the last thing he spent it on was clothes. He wore only the most inexpensive of items - threadbare shirts and jackets that would fall apart regularly. But he always had his eye on this one jacket, and one day, after months and months of longing, he finally bought it. It was the least he could do for himself after his years of perseverance and hard work. He's wearing this jacket in most of the pictures that I've seen of him - this jacket was probably his most prized possession.

The jacket he left behind.

Waves come and go

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Headed down to Hermosa Pier for shits and giggles. This is what I came up with.

This little light of mine

After exploring the entirety of Balboa and Balboa Island, I found it funny that the most enjoyable part of the trip was at a store called CandlEssence, makers of handcrafted scented candles. We hung around in the store for a good, long while, talking to the owner and learning all about burning candles (which there is more to than I ever could have imagined). We were lucky enough to watch her make some candles on the spot. While I'm not a particular fan of scented candles (I couldn't care less about them, to be completely honest), I did greatly enjoy seeing a craftsperson practicing their passion. She also managed to create the most masculine scented candle possible, despite that statement being one giant contradiction - leather scent.

Her wax-covered tools and worn equipment showed years of use - a sort of beauty that cannot be bought, but only earned with time.

On a completely separate note, her dog Oliver had the lovable habit of falling asleep on top of one's feet.

The entire time we spoke to her, I felt welcomed to the island, and could easily see how the place developed into such a tightly-knit community.

Remember Senior Year?

Well, all the pictures from then were crowding this blog. So I moved them back to their original url. So if you ever feel like reminiscing on high school with my pictures, please don't do it here. Do it at cholicholi.blogspot.com. Thanks!

The Story's in the Seams.

One of the things I love most in life is a good story - sad, happy, triumphant, inspiring, profound, depressing, or whatever else it may be. I simply cannot get enough of the tales and anecdotes people have to share. Now, these experiences can come in many forms, but it can usually be assumed that you will have clothes on when undergoing the events that comprise your story.

This is an underlying reason for my interest in clothing - not for mere physical appearance, but because the clothes on a person's back can act as a window into their lives. This is also why I am a fan of people with strong senses of style, as it makes the window wider and more apparent. With this in mind, I now give you the first entry in my new project, entitled The Story's in the Seams. Hopefully with time, I can also include clothing from friends and family that also share something interesting.

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My sister Andrea has always played a major part in my life. She is one of my greatest role models for a wide variety of reasons, but here, I will highlight just one. Andrea is constantly pushing me to better myself, and one of those ways is in my appearance. She'll randomly give me some article of clothing, such as these lovely Levi's 514 corduroy pants, with no other reason than her wanting to. Many a time I have not known what to do with the clothes, as I was not comfortable with them at the time. For instance, I thought these pants to be too tight when I first received them. But without fail, my style eventually develops in such a way that the clothing I formerly did not understand ends up being one of my favorites. Mind you, this goes completely beyond clothes - her advice tends to do the same thing, too. But without fail my sister always knows what'll be good for me a few months or years down the line. And for this I am infinitely grateful.

Thanks, Andrea.

perfection.

It's sad how I had near-perfection sitting in front of me for so long, yet I was too blind to realize it. I searched and searched for something that I thought was so close to being within my grasp, only to realize that I had it all along.

Please don't misinterpret this as something heartfelt or heavy. I'm merely talking about my favorite pair of jeans.

(This isn't the pair, strangely enough. But the picture's appropriate)

Wondering

My photos are said to lack "impact." How am I supposed to go about fixing this major shortcoming? /rhetorical question.