Project director at AQ. http://ripplet.org
1,260 words in 32 moments in 12 cities since February 11th, 2013
Tokyo — This aging restaurant in my trying-to-modernize-to-ride-the-SkyTree-wave neighborhood is closing its doors after what must be decades of business. The announcement is this message, its impersonal tone...
Tokyo — Amidst the squalor of Shinjuku is this stage - a compact hole for a few hundred people to shut out the world and scream for blood, perseverance and fine technique.
Tokyo — That’s a 1/100 model of Shibuya Station, with Hachiko Square and the crossing in the center.
New city, new colors, new textures.
Up on the rooftop.
Crack a raw egg over steamed rice, mix, and pour your favorite furikake flakes over it.
Artifact of helping hands, just enough to correct a mistake.
Awaiting five minutes of civilized brutality.
It's a wonder how we somehow manage to find out way around.
The Parallel Lives of Others: Encounter with Sorge Spy Ring
On no-nonsense warfare, decentralized governance, and building ecosystems in support of commerce.
An hour later, we were releasing our diaphragms.
Your name, ma'am? Tomomi.
Chinese Barbie gives instructions on how to clear customs.
The next time I have barbecue three nights in a row will be... the next time I'm back in Seoul!
By day, reporters and onlookers stand around while moving trucks and nursery home vans drive in and out.
'There's nothing here!', she exclaims as we walk around the vegetable garden. 'Oh, there is. You just have to know where to find it,' I reply. I don't know where, either, just that if you do, there's a lot here.
Betcha I'm the only person here with freshly shaved calluses.
Dip it in raw egg, swirl, and eat in one bite.
My aunt insisted quietly that we visit my grandfather's future grave, which they'd promptly prepared after his heart attack last month.
'How do you make the avocado milkshake?' 'With ice cream.'
Preetam said last night that Singaporeans don't write science fiction.
Trust in the choice you made before getting on the ride.
It's all yours, kid.
I am fifty stories high and owned by the government.
Every dish deserves its own sauce.
We waited for the door to open... laughed, then opened it ourselves.
Impromptu photoshoot session with Andy Warhol's camera.
If only all lanterns could be animal shaped.
Where have all the handsome, swarthy sailors gone?
Five people? Okay, take that table over there. You want the river fish grilled in a pot with seasoned vegetables? Hold on....
Cocoichi Curry atop a Burberry's at Hong Kong's glitziest neighborhood.
Reaching out to touch the littlest handrail in the world.