July 3, 2026
Losing to a banyan
Everyone else raised their phones today; I opened my sketchbook. There is a banyan on campus whose roots pour down like slow water, and I spent most of the afternoon losing an argument with it. Every time I thought I had the shape, it grew more complicated under my pencil.
At morning tea I drew the steamer baskets before we opened them, stacked up like little wooden moons. My har gow went cold while I was still shading the bamboo weave; one of the volunteers kept nudging the basket toward me like they were feeding a stray cat. Worth it — cold har gow is a fair price for getting the lines right.
Our teachers keep telling me to take at least a few photos, in case I miss something. But a photo takes one second and forgets you; a drawing takes an hour and remembers everything — the heat, the cicadas, the exact patience of the afternoon. I would rather have fewer pages that remember.