Tien's.

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Amsterdam, Netherlands - Ghent, Belgium.  The one day of the week in Amsterdam that wasn’t pissing with cold rain happened to be my last. I spent hours in the Rijksmuseum coffee shop working and editing - the Wifi is faster than my hotel - and then took another quick stroll at the museum when they announced the museum is closing in 30 min. Museum is best when closing. Everyone is walking out and for a brief second, you have Rembrandt all to yourself. We then took a long walk along the canals. Amsterdam is much nicer when it’s dry. Most places are.  Then we hopped on a bus to Ghent. Stayed with a friend. Ate pho and unlimited ribs, and for Jung, more museums and art installations at Eindhoven with her childhood friend who lives in Amsterdam. Our chats at nights were mostly arts, films and theatre — a true palate cleansing from Trump and Brexit.  It’s profoundly refreshing to be with friends who genuinely don’t give a __ how much you make a year o...

Decided to visit Cambodia as soon I realized I had a couple of free days during the Bangkok shoot. Had a total of one hour of preparation and research on Siem Reap. What could go wrong?  Sure I wanted to visit Angkor Wat. Take some good shots of the old tree and check another country off my list. Talk to strange men and children, walk to hidden alley ways for a bowl of soup made of unknown animal parts. I study the history, keep a list of what I do, and of course, my job allows me to work with local videographers. So forget about all the tourist traps and online reviews. I’m not your hey let’s ride an elephants traveler, I connect.  But all of that better travel stuff went out the window when the greatest thunderstorm I’ve ever seen hit Bayon temple when I arrived. I was stuck in the tuk tuk with my driver Kim Yin. Got tired of waiting, bought a pair of sandals and a thin yellow rain coat for three dollars and went into the temple alone. The deep moving water washed a...

At some point all the coffee shops near Tokyo station has morphed into an endless space in my head -- You can walk into any of them and enjoy an afternoon of quietness and some superb sandwiches.  I was here last Spring, about to meet my friend Ciera in Sensō-Ji for some sightseeing but somehow found myself in a coffee shop in Kyobashi jotting down notes for a screenplay. At the time the thought of stopping everything video production related and drain all that’s left of me into a script seemed unrealistic (still is.) But I needed to know whether I still have a desire to express some BS and see where that would lead me. I was less obsessed with a new career path, but more into the actual grinding process of writing something no one would care to read.  Here I am (was) in Nihonbashi, a few blocks north of where I was last year. About to meet a friend from college in Shinjuku but needed a moment to process the past thirteen months.  The process.  “A...

The woman called after I spent all day chasing up an old address in the west side of Beijing for a family member I’ve never met. Here’s the thing, she said, the man you’re looking for died of cancer two years ago.  Oh, I see.  How’s your grandmother? She passed eight years ago.  Oh.  Stubbornly I spent the following day digging up yet another old address inside a Hutong near the Forbidden city - my grandmother’s sister. The number was #21 but there was only #17 and #27. The government employee at #27 told me they leveled the block “to prepare for something”. That was fifteen years ago.  Sit, young lad, he said. Wait here. Call this number. It’s easy. Come back tomorrow and try again.  I’ll be gone tomorrow.  It’s hard when all you have is a thirty year old address.  I am aware.  It’s probably foolish of me spending most of my first visit in Mainland running after apartment numbers older than myself. But I needed...

Federal Cafe. Barcelona. J   是土生土長的威爾斯人，我們在 Mobile World Congress 一間不算擁擠的媒體室閒聊，他跟我介紹在威爾斯海岸可以做的戶外活動，但我一點興趣也沒有。接著聊到 Hemstead ，關於 1998 Geoorge Michaels 在這個富裕的倫敦社區發生的醜聞，然後剪接師 Adria 加入我們，一起清算那些二十七歲時離世的 27 Club 的音樂家（雖然 Michaels 活到五十三歲）。 Anton Yelchin 也算嗎？ 然後 Jamie 跟我們道別，晚上的聚餐看來人越來越少。 Danielle, Pierre, 和我在巴賽隆納鬧區的 El Nacional 喝 Ｇ 10 ，一種琴酒加綠茶的調酒，攝影組的 Adlofo 帶女友加入我們，熱烈地談起委內瑞拉的政治。 將近午夜的時候我們走進久聞大名（來了巴賽隆納三次才來）的 Irish Pub Obama’s 。一個樂手熱請地彈奏 I wanna Hold your Hand 。人潮慢慢增加，客人也越唱越興奮，一群在 Mercedes 的德國人開始跳起舞來。我們一起從 Country Road 唱到 Don’t Look Back in Anger 。喝著加 Rosemary 的 Ｇ＆Ｔ，跟陌生人大聲閒談。 “This is my last time in Barcelona.” 丹尼 說，他是我的經理。 去年你也是這樣說的，我提醒他。 是嗎？他不記得了。 講完我自己有點內疚，這不也該是我來巴賽隆納的最後一年了嗎？以後不做這種上天下海的影片記者的工作也還是可以來這裡玩啊，可是這樣就看不到這些一起出生入死的戰友了吧？那種忙完一整個星期之後海喝一場的成就感也會隨之消失，擠在酒吧看足球和深夜晚餐一起抱怨客戶的時光也會變成回憶。 所以不想離開是因為害怕失去這些在巴賽隆納的朋友嗎？辭職之後其實也沒有理由來這個城市了。就算來也不會一樣了。 Adolfo 喝著啤酒跟我說他今年要到委內瑞拉拍自己的電影。他說他要在今年拍完，失敗再回來接案子，不試試怎麼會知道？我說是啊，我也在去年聖誕節寫完了第二個劇本。馬上要開始改寫了。 將近凌晨兩點的時候我們...

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