Community Art Project

Fragrance of Orchid

Tuesday night at L’heure la Sensation, we had a finale of a five-week-long workshop on orchid and bamboo drawing. We carved out a stamp for our names written in Korean and “signed” all our drawings. No one was scared to pick a spot to place a red spot. We all learned to listen to and trust our intuition. Let us not forget “attaque”– a short moment of taking a breath in, setting our minds on our path–and fearlessly “deroule”!

Thank you, everyone in my first class in Geneva.

Gate A-4


A poem that warms my heart this morning

Originally posted on Live & Learn:


Gate A-4 By Naomi Shihab Nye:

Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal, after learning my flight had been delayed four hours, I heard an announcement: “If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately.” Well— one pauses these days. Gate A-4 was my own gate. I went there.

An older woman in full traditional Palestinian embroidered dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing. “Help,” said the flight agent. “Talk to her . What is her problem? We told her the flight was going to be late and she did this.”

I stooped to put my arm around the woman and spoke haltingly. “Shu-dow-a, shu-bid-uck, habibti? Stani schway, min fadlick, shu-bit-se-wee?” The minute she heard any words she knew, however poorly used, she stopped crying. She thought the flight had been cancelled entirely. She needed to be…

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Don’t bother me

I shoo them away in the morning—
to rebalance myself—
my three roommates.

I sit in an unclean apartment
pretend I live alone
I can go through the whole day without opening mouth
Listening to experimental music

I think of shootings in Paris

Last night I went into my daughter’s bedroom
hugged her
told her
“Even when things are tough, when you are frustrated and scared, you know that mommy is always here, I will wrap you like this with my arms and squeeze you tight.”
She nodded
and we fell asleep holding hands

I hear French president’s speech—he will close borders—on my laptop in my corner studio. At first I think no one can go into the county and I wonder if we can go to church on Sunday, our church in France. Then I understand he was talking about immigrants—

Those who have been walking—
readjusting expectation of how life should be—
not us.

Daily Inspirations

The Green Effect

Hope and Faith

Faith cries an instant I walk away from him. He does not walk alone yet, but what he does really well is glueing himself to my legs and moving with me. He grabs on my trousers while I am standing cooking or walking to a toilet. It feels as if I am wearing stone pouches on my ankles to get more muscles on my legs.  He moves with me and I have to very careful when I lift my legs while taking steps inside the kitchen so he does not slip on a hard ceramic tiled floor. When he falls, he makes sure I read the situation as a misery. He lies down flat looking at the ceiling, waiting to be picked up. 

I don’t do well with the sound of baby crying. One time when I was tired from lack of sleep and suffering from lack of energy I was on the verge of losing it. Faith and I were hanging out in the kitchen with him clinging on my leg as usual (we don’t really move from one room to the other easily) and I had to get my phone in hallway. I tore my legs from his grip and ran. Billowing wail followed. I was standing with my phone, and looking down on the floor when the drama was being put on. A little actor was performing his best act of tragedy. I just could not watch it any more. I did not want to hear it any more. 

I too started wailing. Louder than him. Tub full of water is unplugged and there was no way to stop it. 

Three, four, five minutes passed perhaps. I looked at Faith. He was playing with his wooden train. He learned that he can live on his own without our bodies touching. I won!

Today after I pick up Hope from school, we go to the lawn by the lake. Green makes my anxious toddler calm and clingy baby confident. I tell them to sit together while I get more bread from the stroller which is twenty steps away from where we are. When I get back with a stroller, I see the two discussing about natural science around the topic of types of grass grown in Lac Leman region. These are the precious moments and since they come and go so quickly you gotta be on your guards all the time to catch them. 

Art Local

Artist Talk in Q Commons

Great things have been happening since we came to Geneva. One of them is that I am invited to give a nine-minute talk at Q Commons Geneva ( ). I am sharing about my experience as a mother wrestling between art and children in the past five years.

The preQ_Bo_LEepping process has been a blessing for me–soul searching, meaning digging work. The hardest part is trying to put everything I want to say into a nine-minute box. I am still editing the script and it is already Wednesday and the talk will be on Friday!

TH took an awesome profile picture of me to post on the page for the event. I am so thankful that I have a photographer husband!

KimyiBo Art

Three Years

In May 2012 I hung 512 paper tiles in tapestry for an art exhibition.

For three years since then, I did not produce any art that could go on my resume or portfolio. Three years go by fast for some, but for some it is eternity.

Each day during those three years did not go wasted. Three years may be all you have.