Goodbye Old Friend

Guy 199?-2013
How do I even begin to write this... we've had the pleasure of Guy's company for 10 long years and he's made an immeasurable impression on our lives. We were told he was 6 or 7 when we adopted him in 2003.  There's so much to say and yet I'm at a loss for words.  Whenever he was around I always felt comfort, joy and love.

Today I'm sad to lose my best friend, but there's also an odd sense of serenity.  I know his suffering is over.  He left me with his joyful spirit and many happy memories.  A big "Thank You" to all my friends and Flickr friends for loving him as much.  Having been able to share his wonderful moments with you has made this experience immeasurable.  From the bottom of our hearts, "Thank you."

We left Guy with a bouquet of flowers from the yard and a lock of hair from each of us.  He will be cremated and I plan on making a "Guy" urn.


Knowing When:
We started to notice Guy's health and agility slowing down about 2 or 3 years ago, but the last 6-8 months is when it really started to spiral.  We knew from then on we might have to euthanize him at some point.  Slipping away quietly in the night was unlikely and we didn't want to prolong his suffering.  It wasn't a matter of what to do, but when to do it...  I think this is/was the toughest decision we had to make.

There are many resources out there to help you gauge a pet's "quality of life".
Lap of Love has a great PDF/worksheet and I also found THIS checklist very helpful.  I thought the worksheet was helpful but too simple so I also took daily logs for about 2-3 weeks.  These were a few things I tried to observe:
Did he have a good night sleep?
Did he throw up or have diarrhea?
Had he moaned or seemed like he was in pain and if so the duration.
When and how much he ate.
When and for how long he slept.

By the end good days were when he was able to sleep and eat.  It has been at least 3 months since I saw any signs of enjoyment like rolling around or rubbing his face on the furniture.  I also like to take a lot of pictures of Guy, a hobby of mine.  I went through my library of photos and noticed that I hadn't seen a picture of him smiling in months.  Most were pictures of him sleepy or looking droopy.  I think in the last 2 weeks he had 5 or 6 "good days" and about 4 or 5 "bad days", with a few "meh" days. We made the choice on Sunday to let him go today.


"Don't You Forget About Me" taken 9/3/12
We spent the entire day hanging out and I made him is favorite meal: fried steak.  He ate well and ate willingly.  He slept for most of the day with a calmness that I haven't seen in weeks.  There was no moaning or his usual signs of discomfort.  The sun was out and the sky was blue.  We'll always look back on how nice today was.

For those considering euthanasia, I would recommend a "home vet".  My good friend Kamala told me about this and it was the best advice I've gotten.  Guy went comfortably at home, on the couch in his usual spot.  He was not anxious or nervous, we held his paw until the very last moment.

If you're in the Seattle/nearby area we HIGHLY RECOMMEND Compassion 4 Paws and Dr. Sara.  She made the transition smooth and painless, having her there is like having a good friend by your side as you go through this difficult passage.  Dr. Sara has an amazingly empathetic spirit and she brings a very serene energy to the room.  We met for the first time today, my husband made the call and spoke with her previously.  She came in and we talked a little bit about Guy, she stroked him and got to know him.  They sat for a bit and she asked us if we were ready.  She then gave him a sedative which put him in a deep sleep.  We got to hold him and hug on him for as long as we needed to.  We said our goodbyes and she proceeded with the final injection.  Guy just drifted away.


9/15/07

3/22/08

8/27/12
Yes, dogs can smile!

Arrival in SeaTac Airport 1986

This was the first picture of us taken in the US.  We just stepped out from INS/customs at SeaTac Airport. We came from Manila, Philippines to Seattle in August/1986.  We immigrated from Vietnam to the US as refugees in 85/86.  My uncles were smuggled out of Vietnam after the fall of Saigon and made their way to the US.  They later sponsored us to come, the process took about 6 years.  We flew from from Vietnam to Thailand and spent about a week there in a refugee processing facility.  Medical check ups and background checks were made.  It was very scary getting "processed", as a personal experience of a 6 year old, it felt dehumanizing.  People should never have medical checkups without having a native interpreter around.  Imagine a naked 6 year old standing in front of a nurse and doctor as they do their thing, without her mother by her side.  You wore an ID tag around your neck, there was little to no eye contact.  They spoke at you, not to you... half the time not in a language you understood.  I don't think things are like this anymore... hopefully they've changed.  For those of you who think English should be the only language (in the US) needs to realize that immigrants have made some of the BEST AMERICANS and there's always a transition time when both languages are necessary.

The Thailand refugee camp was an interesting experience.  The camp was built like a prison with barbed wire, tall fences and gates.  There was no privacy, but this was for temporary holding so they can verify who you were and made sure you didn't have any communicable diseases. People were denied entry to the US for being a communist or if they had Aids, TB etc.  There was a shop in the camp and peddlers could still sell you gum and candy through the camp's perimeter, if you had the money to buy.  I remember this was the first time I had Chicklets.  I was hooked, mmmm Chicklets!  I believe there were 2 meals a day and you slept on cots or on blankets in a big gymnasium type room next to your luggage.  We jokingly said the food was cabbage soup and rice or rice and cabbage soup.  To this day the smell of boiled cabbage brings me back to this place!  Despite everything it was a fond and exciting memory.


We lived with my grandmother in Vietnam, extended family often live together.  We were split up for the first time in Thailand, my grandmother went directly to the US and we were diverted to the Philippines Refugee Processing Center in Bataan. We lived there for about 8 months.  We think it's because my mother was a native Vietnamese and she had tested positive for TB antibodies.  They worried my mother might be contagious.  She took care of an aunt with TB when she was younger and I guess got antibodies from that experience.  After leaving everyone I knew in Vietnam it was very hard leaving my grandmother too.  This was someone who've been with me my entire life, there everyday with me and ate every meal with me.  After 8 months apart this was the first time I saw her again.
Right to left: Dad (Ton Chau), mom (Hoa Nguyen), me, grandma (Hao Ly)

I just found this awesome blog about the PRPC!
http://bataan-prpc.blogspot.com/

Eggs From Mum

My mother will still occasionally bring food by the house.  She wants to make sure I'm well fed.  This time we got some fresh eggs from her hen house and a huge bag of winter chard... some Vietnamese ham, Banh-mi sandwiches and some roasted pork.  I think I'm good for the winter thanks mom!


I LOVE fresh eggs.  We used to raise chickens for eggs when I was little and mom has recently taken up the hobby again.  The yolks are an amazing orange color, not like the pale yellow ones from store bought eggs.  The taste is also much richer... you can definitely tell the difference when making things like Hollandaise sauce. 
They are fun to keep and not too much work.  The only downside is the smell and noise... and having to decided what to do with them when they stop producing or fall ill.  You can grow very attached.  My grandfather ran a farm and my grandmother/mother have done a lot of slaughtering.  If I had the choice I would much rather kill my own food.  All of the "family's" slaughters have been done very respectfully and quickly.  My grandfather would say a "thank you/prayer" to each animal before it was killed.  The focus was to do it as cleanly and quickly as possible and no other animals were ever present.
I'm a meat eater and struggle with the idea.  I know what "meat production" is like in the US and how animals are kept and how they're killed.  We mostly eat chickens and when we buy meat we try to stay to the free range, organic, yada yada...  It's not an issue of "it's wrong to eat animals" with me, but I do have a problem with how they're treated.  We go through phases of not eating meat, but I'm a bacon ADDICT and have HUGE MEAT CRAVINGS!  Imagine a starved out vampire next to a juicy neck. LOL
Well thanks for the eggs mom!  I'm hoping to have enough yard space to have our own chicken coop one day.

Chau Plastic Surgery New Office

My uncle asked me to help him with some interior design work for his new office, Chau Plastic Surgery.  He's an amazing plastic surgeon in Berkley, MI (near Detroit).  I'm quite in awe of what he's gone through and his accomplishments.  At the age of 16, during the Fall of Saigon, he boarded a helicopter at the US Embassy in Vietnam to flee the country.  He was alone and perhaps did the hardest thing anyone had to do at any age.  When he arrived in the US he faced many years of discrimination and racism.  He washed dishes to pay his way through college.  He eventually ended up in medical school and became a surgeon.  He's never forgotten where he comes from, although at times I feel he's haunted by his past.  Success is a hard thing to grasp, he still peers over the fence to see how green the grass is on the other side.  If he reads this I'd like him to know he's standing on a lush meadow of green, there's no better place than the one you've built for yourself.  We're all very proud of him.
More about Dr. Bruce Chau


I picked the color palate and did a concept sketch for him.  I wasn't involved in any of the construction process.  He had the help of many friends and staff members.  Thank you guys, I'm sure you held it together for him.  


They wanted a calming and welcoming feel.  When I left everyone was very happy with this new space.  It was great to meet you all: Ashley, Maria, Amy and Allison(?)... also Dr. Barak!  Good luck with everything.


Another shot of the room. 


I painted a tree mural in the center of the room.  There was a column that juts out and we wanted to make it more of a feature and less of an intrusion.


Close up of tree mural.


Before:
This is the space before any construction.

After/Concept Sketch:
There's more furniture in the room... but I thought I did a good job of outlining the design elements.  They still need to frost a huge wall of windows.

New Studio?

We might be moving to a new house.  There's a 20'x20' garage in the back (pictured above) that we will convert into a studio if we get the house.  This is a BIG DEAL for me and I feel it will be world changing for my work as well.  Fingers crossed and of course I'll give you guys the blow by blow during the construction/remodeling process.
I'd like to thank a very special friend for helping us make this happen.  Without you this would not be possible! THANK YOU!

Dune Buggy Massacre of 2002

My husband and I built a dune buggy in the summer of 2002.  It was quite an adventure!  We scrapped 2 VW Bugs and made one jacked-up Franken-car.  I have no idea what to do when it comes to building/rebuilding cars, but I can take things apart really well!  Pitty I can't find pics of the finished product.  This was the spare-parts victim.  We didn't keep the dune buggy, it was a bit unstable and the steering was off.  I think we sold it to another gear head.

This picture was taken at my mother's old house.  She was VERY NICE to let us do this in her parking area.  I miss tearing things apart, good times!


Happy Trails!
xoxo
Diem

Grandma Grandpa

Grandma and Grandpa (mom's side) in front of their home in Vietnam, surrounded by mango trees.


Just found out my grandmother passed away in March. She lived in Ninh Hoa, in Southcentral Vietnam. Because I lived with my father's family back in Vietnam I didn't have the opportunity to know her very well. We've only seen each other a handful of times, but she's definitely a tough cookie! I'm from a family of hard heads, iron fists and armour plated emotions. We don't say "I love you" or even "good job", encouragement meant not getting chewed out. Having grown up with this in my blood I don't think I would want it any other way.

Grandma was born in 1929(?). She had 12 children, my mother was #6. She has 7 surviving children, 5 daughters & 2 sons. From what my mom told me a few of my uncles passed away during the American War? Others died of illness or when they were very young.

Each phase of our life is like a completely different lifetime. I asked my mom how she felt about her father's (grandpa) death back in 1995. She said she was sad, but felt that their connection was like a thin strand stretched far away. She left her parent's home as teenager to take care of an aunt with TB... a few years later she married dad and moved to Saigon. As she explains it the life she had with her parents was only 17 years. The life she had with my father was longer than that.  Childhood was so long ago and seem to have occupied such a great span of time. It's quite a paradigm shift to realize you've lived with someone for the same duration as the years in your childhood. Standing here looking back I'm not the same person anymore, that lifetime is gone. I'm looking forward. I don't mourn the past, I carry it on my shoulders.



Grandpa died in 1995. His longevity was a miracle. He had stomach and/or intestinal cancer. The doctors gave him 6 months to live in the 60's? They removed 75% of his stomach and small intestines, maybe even some of his large intestines as well. I'm not sure what else was taken out. It was primitive medicine compared to today's technology and available medley of cancer treatments.

He survived the surgery and move to a small home in the countryside (top picture). He lived separately from his wife and kids, although I'm sure close contact was kept. I don't know what lead to that decision or how their relationship managed. I don't know how the children dealt with it or if anyone other than my grandfather had a say in the matter. My guess is he thought he was going to die and needed his peace before he goes. Maybe he just wanted to spend some time reflecting.

In the subsequent years he started a small farm, became a devout Buddhist. By devout I mean keeping to a strict vegan diet, observing the daily rituals and embracing the philosophy of harmony and balance. He ate what he grew and completely changed how he lived. He had a good long life in his continuing years.  My grandmother eventually came to live with him.

My grandmother ran into his surgeon years later... the surgeon apologized for not being able to do more for my grandfather and gave my grandmother his condolences. My grandma turned to him and said, "What are you talking about! My husband is still alive!". My grandfather died in his 90's.

I remember Grandpa very well. I was the trouble maker on his farm, picking things before they were ripe. I remember visiting his farm when I was 4. We lived in Saigon, a mostly urban area and I've never seen how watermelons grew. I was so impressed with the huge shiny balls of green popping out of the ground that I carried one into the house to show everyone. Along with the melon I also dragged a tangle of vines behind me. I think I must have killed a plant or two. No one could yell at me because I was so happy to show them my prize! For the remainder of my visit my grandfather shadowed me to make sure I wouldn't destroy anything else. It became a hide & seek thing. I'd detect a pair of feet behind a bush or around the corner and run to him.

And The Rest Of The Story...

I finally got around to editing the rest of the Zodiac crayon images.

Dragon
This Dragon crayon was my first attempt.  Most of the other crayons took at least 2 or 3 trial runs before I was happy with the results.  The texture of the scales turned out very well.  I grew up around a lot of Dragon motifs.  It reminds me of Dragons swirling around a column or post or a Dragon and Phoenix wrapped around a pair of Chinese wedding candles.



Dog
My solution to carving long snout dogs is to have them look down.  Composing within the dimensions of a crayon is challenging.  This fellow is very Kitsune-like.



Ox (see Horse description)


Horse
There's a Chinese saying that ties the horse and the ox together:
牛耕田 马吃谷:  The ox plows the field and the horse eats the grain (and the next line goes)... the father toils for the daughter's prosperity.  The meaning behind that saying is the ox/father works hard and toils away while the horse/daughter gets to enjoy the results of his hard work.

People used to repeat that saying to me all the time when I was little.  They would ask if I wanted to be the ox or the horse.  The underlying question was... do I want to toil and work hard all my life or sit back and enjoy what would be given to me.  I HATED it, even at 5 or 6 years old.  I didn't want to be an ox in the field, but I'd be damned if I sit back and let someone do my work for me.  I was going to be the ox that ate it's own oats or the horse that plowed its own field.  But after my father's death the truth behind this saying really resonated with me.  I worked hard for everything I have in life, but my father did in fact toiled for my sake.  The saying is true.

Big THANKS to Laura for the blogging about my Zodiac crayons and everyone at Boing Boing & Digg for picking it up.

Farewell in Seattle

FAREWELL - Curated by Byron Au Yong
Opening Reception Sat. January 23rd 5pm-8pm
January 20th - March 7th
Columbia City Gallery - 4864 Rainier Avenue South - Seattle, WA 98118

Passing Down 2010
Paper & white thread
26"W X 20"H

Byron invited me to be apart of this show, when I read about his ideas on Farewell I was immediately connected with what he had to say.  When my family (me, mom, dad and grandma) immigrated to the US we had to say a lot of goodbyes, some of those were permanent goodbyes.

We flew from Vietnam to a camp in Thailand for our physical and mental evaluations.  The US government didn't want to bring people with TB or other diseases into the country... they also wanted to know that we were mentally stable and not communists.  I have to say, looking back it's a really absurd thing and the process was very dehumanizing.  There were very few translators and almost none one spoke English.  There was a mix of Thai, Laotian, Chinese, Vietnamese and Cambodians refugees at the camp in Thailand.  To speed up the processing we were all given numbers and an ID card, sometimes they were pinned to our clothing.  I remember a lot of lines and doctors and nurses.  We were given shots.  I know now that this was done for our benefit, but at the time it just felt like you were poked, prodded and herded like cattle.  The experience of being processed is unforgettable, there is a great deal of fear and vulnerability involved.

We stayed in the camp in Thailand for about a week.  My grandmother had received the OK to fly directly to Seattle, but my parents and I were routed to the Philippines for further testing.  Our family was once again further separated.  My mother had taken care of an aunt with TB when she was younger and tested positive for TB antibodies...  We were sent to live in the Philippines Refugee Processing Center for about 8 or 10 months until they can conclude that we weren't contagious.  It was incredibly hard for a 6 year old to say goodbye to her grandmother.  As depressing as that might sound I had some of the best experiences in my life at the PRPC in Bataan.  But that's a story for another time...

Me and dad walking along one of the main roads at the camp.  I was 6 or 7 here... dad's carrying a bag of biscuit tins.  He wanted to show our family in the US that we were well fed and had lots to eat.  But the tins were empty.  It was a very large place with many "villages", each village had about a dozen long houses.  These houses were essentially long metal shelters/sheds that divided into 10 living units.  Each unit was about 10' or 12' wide by 15' long???  Inside the living unit was a large main room and a ladder to a smaller loft space.  Depending on how big your family was you can occupy a single unit or share a unit with another family.  We were a small family and always shared our space.  There were no doors, just curtains and the washing/bathroom facility was in a separate building.  The lights/power was shut off at around 8pm and there was no running water in the living quarters.  You had to fetch your water in the morning from the washing/bathroom building.  Each unit had a stove, a large wooden slat bed and tables and chairs.  It was intimate and not having a door wasn't a big problem since there wasn't anything to steal!  LOL
*edit*
I recently found this photo on Alan Dejecacion's Flickr stream.  Thanks for uploading Alan!
Our unit looked 99% like the one in the photo.  It's amazing to see a bit of your past you thought you'd lost.  Alan was there in 1989 visiting a friend.  He told me he was on site only for a few hours, but got to meet a few family and residents.




A part of you never leaves.
My mother and I returned to Vietnam in 2001, our first time back since 1986.  It was an amazing trip and I wish we can make that trip more often.  The maroon shirt above belonged to me when I was a baby.  I believe my mother made it.  When we left all of our things were given away or sold.  This was passed on to one of my aunts (mom's sister).  My aunt showed this to me when we were visiting along with a few of my baby photos.  She said after I wore it all of my girl cousins wore it too.  The shirt traveled from family to family until now.  She said because of the "One Child" law, something similar to what China has, no one will be having children anytime soon.  I asked for the shirt back and she gladly handed it back to me.  This shirt has become the symbol of our bond.

For the show I recreated the shirt with white embroidery on white paper (photo at top).  I feel it's a gesture that captures ideas behind Farewell.  Although we are far apart and travel in different paths our bond remains.  It might be unseen, but it is enduring.


Below are Byron's thoughts, read more about it here: http://hearbyron.com/farewell.aspx
"A farewell is necessary before you can meet again."
Richard Bach

Thinking about personal moments of leave-taking, I invite six artists + an artist duo to reflect with me on the meanings of good-bye. How do sounds and objects represent farewell? What are the everyday and magical feelings associated with departure? Where does imagination meet reality when we embark on a journey?

The elegant and playful works of MalPina Chan, Diem Chau, Paul Kikuchi, Annie Han + Daniel Mihalyo: LEAD PENCIL STUDIO, Tiffany Lin, June Sekiguchi, and Ying Zhou surprise and comfort me as I feel Winter become Spring. Go ahead. Linger here awhile before you depart, knowing you can always return.

Byron Au Yong
Guest Curator
January 2010