SUNNY BUT COLD // us right here


Our short excerpt was presented at Dancexchange on Tuesday, MAY 21ST 2019

Old Town Temecula Community Theater: 42051 Main St. Temecula, CA 92590

A HAMBURGER JOINT AT THE CROSS OF THE MULTIVERSE is about noise and how more things are always happening than we can perceive. Our filter mechanism generates patterns and thoughts and is a feedback loop to more thoughts, giving us a grasp on the world. This work attempts to generate the space of an American fast food joint on the frontier.



Ghoni is a collaborator and friend who grew up and lives in the desert, and is my spiritual complement for this part of the process. For me, the desert, gestural movement, and poetry are fresh frontiers on my journey, while to G, it is normal. The intensity and feverish pull of the creative process is more familiar to me, partly due to personality. Being in the big space under the giant sky filled with light gave us freedom to fail and and have fun. G and I recorded this as the sun went down, edited, then went to starbucks to upload to beat the deadline (if we get in that application, we might present it at the redcat)

Lancaster has a nearby military airbase, a max prison, and home to major defense contractors. It has a hidden darkness, a charter city in the outskirts, fertile enough to bring new growth still. The empty parts of the desert have random colonies of trash and bones, and the wind is very cold. Yet, it is incredibly sunny with a crowd of colorful clouds.

Prized Trash

A man sits on a mountain throne, overlooks a kingdom of rust, desert dust fades all things into half-broken. King, in this corner of dirt, where hail salts the parched ground, and errant drifters float on crisp clear skies. Sunny but cold, so the colors squeeze out of our bodies into our eyes.

He reminds me of my father and fears molded, whose heart was grown by the old world. His overpiled artifacts have memory, As if when the rough rust is touched, it evoked warmth and laughter, When all his birds were in the nest.

His walls lined with items of pride and pieces of identity, and the only room was the headspace above a castle of old couches, flowered olive green. They faded into the brown dusted wooden walls. Inside this aged, sunburnt container, A flickering light purifies the decay of the mundane.

Sunny but Cold represents the duality in experience: life is beautiful but harsh. My travels in the vast American landscape as a first generation Asian-immigrant stirs my soul. The California desert is a modern frontier, physically and psychically, with the dying past holding on like the rust on the corpses of cars and houses. The future already crept in and began its growth, cell phones and car noises, smog and rubble. Cyberpunk, trashy but high-tech. There is a different flavor of isolation on the outskirts, where fast food franchises and motel chains grow like lit-up mushroom clones next to the highway. A giant snake, split in the middle, one side flows yellow lights, the other in the opposite way, red illuminated blood, transports life back and forth from the great Sprawl.