Another colleague of mine had passed away. I didn’t realize that I hadn’t talk to him for weeks. Ever since we launched the new design, I basically lock myself in my office and focus on migrating the all contents to the new design. The news stopped me cold. The last time we were on the phone Fred asked me to help him set up some Macs for some faculty members. I agreed.

Fred was an IT for the School of Business, but he is a PC guy. Although I am not an expert, Fred was my go-to guy regarding to Mac. In return, Fred always responded to my requests as quickly as he could. In the School of Business, Fred was the PC and I am the Mac. On a more personally level, Fred was a jazz aficionado and like me Fred was also a Miles’s fan. I just found out that from another colleague that Fred had gone “In a Silent Way” a few weeks ago. Rest in peace, my man.

In just six months I had lost three people I had the pleasure working with. Witnessing the people around you just leave makes me think about life and death. It could just happen to anyone. It’s a sad reality, but it teaches me to not to worry too much about death. When it is time for me to go. I’ll go. While I am still here I want to make the best of it for the people around me, especially my lil Duke. He gives me the reason to live.

Although we only knew each other for a short period of time, you left a deep impression in me the very first time we met. You mesmerized me not only with your fantastic designs, but also your deep thoughts behind them. You drawn me in with your soft-spoken words, knowledge of the web and intelligent views on design.

Your purpose to become a designer is something I will never forget: “Life is depressing so I try to make things beautiful.” Your work speaks for itself. For me personally, what inspires me the most was your ability to strike the balance between simplicity and attention to details. I always refer back to your work when I need some design solutions.

Work aside, you were a very private, humble individual. I had learned a great deal from you: only talk when you have something to contribute. Thank you for your wonderful recommendation on LinkedIn. Come to think about it, I have a feeling it was your way of saying goodbye without letting me know what you were going through. I thank you whole-heartedly and may your soul rest in peace. You’re in a better place now and I am sure you’ll make things even more beautiful up there.

I got home from work around 6:15pm, but Dana and Duke weren’t home. After taking a shower, I could hear them in the living room. Dana handed Duke over to me to give him a bath so she could cook some dinner. I fed him a bowl full of porridge and hang out with him while Dana was still cooking.

I peeped into the kitchen and there were Vietnamese salad, mussels and lobster tails. I asked her what is the special occasion? She replied, “It’s our anniversary.” Holy crap, I totally forgot about it. I popped open a bottle of white wine, the one that I brought to her place the first time she invited me over for dinner. I was so nervous that I dropped the bottle on the floor and we had to clean it up.

Anyway dinner was delicious. We had to rush a bit because Cu Dao was sleepy and fussy. Dana put him to bed so I just kick back and watched some American Idol. Crystal Bowersox dominated the show and she’ll win for sure. Then Glee came on. I was expecting more of Lady Gaga covers, but it was not the case. The show was still enjoyable though.

After the show, I clean up the table and put the dishes into the machine. Dana came down and now we’re sharing a chocolate mousse and a cup of tea while I quickly put this post together before the night end.

I know I am old when my little nephew who I used to hold in my arms is now in 10th grade and taller than me. I know I am old when the little boy who used to live next to me and my mom has a son older than my son. I still remember him wearing his diaper running around our apartment and now he’s changing his baby’s diaper. How crazy is that? Now we can talk about fatherhood to each other.

Dana told me that yesterday marked her 17 years living in the States. I then realized that I have been here for 19 years, even though I can’t remember the exact date. Although I have been here for almost two decades, become an American citizen and changed my name to Donny, I never once feel like this is a permanent place. Somehow Vietnam still holds on to me like the color of my skin, which hasn’t get any lighter over the years, even though childhood memory is the only part of me that belongs to Vietnam.

I have changed and so has Vietnam. My relationship with Vietnam is like my relationship with my father who hasn’t been around me all these years. We are connected by blood, but the gap is unbridgeable. We love each other, but we are distanced. I can’t live with my father just like I can’t live in Vietnam. We’re in two different worlds and our lifestyles have changed. My life is better here, but I still don’t feel a sense of home. I don’t yearn to go back just like a kid who grows up and doesn’t want to return home.

When I look at the older generation like my mom and my parents-in-law, I wonder how do they feel? With their limited English, this is definitely a temporary place for them. How do they live on and adapted to the environment that is so foreign to them? Was it because of the hardship in the past that give them the strength?

Often times I see myself living here temporarily for the rest of my life and than die on this land and that’s it. Don’t give me wrong. I love America and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world, but here. It just that Vietnam is also part of me. When I am in this sentimental mood, Trịnh Công Sơn’s “Ở Trọ” comes to mind and his words help me get through: “Tôi nay ở trọ trần gian / Trăm năm về chốn xa xăm cuối trời.” Even life is just an interim and you will go somewhere else after this. So live this short, impermanent life to the fullest so that “Mai kia dù có ra sao cũng đành.”

Tu Ngan Ka writes in Thanh Nien:

In 2006, Donny set up a [slideshow] where people can enjoy beautiful images of Vietnam and a lovely song called “Bonjour Vietnam” written by French songwriter Marc Lavoine and performed by Pham Quynh Anh, a Vietnamese Belgian.

Donny completed a course in digital arts and multimedia design in 2001 at La Salle University in Philadelphia in the US. He is now working at Vassar College in New York.

Designing websites allows him to work and improve his creativity.

Passionate about designing websites and fond of folk songs about Vietnamese villages, he set up visualgui.com in the hope of sharing his knowledge of website design as well as reviews of Vietnamese songs written in Vietnam and abroad.

“Bonjour Vietnam” is just one of the slideshows that Donny has compiled.

He’s amazed how popular his sites are amongst young people.

“Perhaps, we have a shared idea and deep love for Vietnam,” he said. “It is a process of sharing.”

I can still remember the exact words my cousin Phuong told me: “I stay this way to take care of my mum.” Meaning she’ll stay single to look after my aunt who suffered from a stroke that almost took her life. That was twelve years ago and my cousin was in her forties. Although my aunt has recovered, she is still paralyzed and in need of personal care including washing up, changing diaper, and eating. My cousin, being the oldest daughter in the house, has single-handedly taken care of her mom.

My cousin not only has a huge heart, but also a great personality. Prior to looking after her mom, she ran and managed the family’s grocery store. It was her hard work, honestly and smiles that drove the business. Customers loved her. She was so kind that if you could convince her, she would allow you to buy first and pay later. This character of her drove my aunt crazy because many customers wouldn’t pay her back. She ended up covered the lost out of her own pocket.

As for me, she had played an important role in my career. It was her who loaned my mom $1,200 to buy my first PC. In my sophomore year, I knew I wanted to be a web designer, which required a computer to work on my skills. My mom didn’t work at the time; therefore, her finance was limited. Thankfully my cousin covered it for us and mom would pay her back each month. Yet, I offered to pay up after I landed my first freelance gig.

That’s my sweet cousin. The things she has done for all of us are immeasurable, and she never mentioned any of it. She doesn’t need to seek for any recognition. Deep down our heart, we know how much we appreciate her and how proud we are of her.

I miss you, hommie. Looking at your little brother’s engagement photos makes me realized that almost a decade has passed. I still remember it like yesterday when we found every possible reason to cut school. We cut school because we needed the sunlight to tint your little red-hot ride. We cut school to play Tien Len at your crib. We cut school just because school’s breakfast sucked, and then we raced each other all the way to Philly to have Dim Sum. But hey, we made it through high school, didn’t we?

You were the craziest, man. That chick was jealous because I spent more time with you and the crew. Remember the Oriental Club’s trip to Montreal? We drank, gambled, bugged out at the arcades, and hit the clubs. Even though we couldn’t keep our eyes open the next day, our breakfast served by French-spoken waitresses in tight shorts and bras sure woke us all up. Yet the best part was when you made that stuck-up Julia unstuck while entertained us with your wack-ass muses during all those long rides.

The good old memories I will never forget, my brother. Shit done changed down here, dawg. Without you holding everyone together, we all grew apart. Luan moved to Cali like he had always wanted and married with three kids. The last time I talked to Tung, which was about five years ago, he was polishing nails and dropped out of Penn State. See what happen when you weren’t around to watch him? He kept his head in them boobs instead of them books. With your hustling skills and his brain, you guys would have pulled it through. It’s a damn shame because he was the smartest out of all of us. We copied his homework so much that we both failed on every Calculus exam.

I wish I could turn back the hand of time, and I wish that accident never happened. After you had drowned, I was sinking too, and it was your mom who pulled me back up. She told me that you would be happy if I succeed in school. I’ve done my best not to let you down, so rest in joy, my brother.

(A late eulogy)

The beta version of Textpattern is available for download. Word up!

Back to work

Snow is out, back to work. After many hours of playing around with different layouts for nfsahc.org yesterday, it’s finally coming together. It’s time to send it off to the client. Also waiting for the contents to arrived. Hopefully it’ll launched some time next week.

Cooked Rice

Mom bought me a rice cooker and a bag of rice when I first moved to Poughkeepsie. Being stuck in the snow yesterday, I finally started to cook my first rice. Added a little bit too much water but it was eatable. Ain’t nuttin’ better than sticky rice and burnt hot dogs. Ghetto style, baby!

My mini web page at Vassar College gets a face-lifted. Check it out!

Enchiladas Verdes

Craving for some Mexican food? Check out Keisha’s Enchiladas Verdes dish. Nice little recipe with fun photos. Looks delicious, Keish! Can’t wait to try them.

Wicked Animation

Although Tokyoplastic is not usable but the animation is mad wicked. Don’t forget to check out the bloody graphics. They are pretty wicked too.

Both Frontmedia and Cinnamon Interactive are organized, clean and surprisingly simple. While Frontmedia is fluid and slick in Flash, Cinnamon Interactive is hot and spicy in css.

College Years

Reading this post reminded me of my good old college days. The phrase “1 hour in class equivalent to 3 hours of study time” is way exaggerated. I hardly spent any time reading during college. In fact, after my freshman year, I stopped buying textbooks. They were a waste of money and I never read them. So how did I get through college? Of course I didn’t get straight As but some As and Bs were not bad for not reading textbooks either. First of, I never missed class time. Yes, it was very important not to missed class because my C grades turned into B with perfect attendants. Secondly, I listened carefully to the lectures and wrote down all the notes. At night, I would revised my notes to make it clearer and readable. The night before exam, I would spent three to four hours studied my notes. Yes, it worked every time. Well, except for one History class. I had a 12:30 class and my professor put me to sleep everyday with his monotone. The class started out with 19 students. Two weeks later, there was 11 left. After I bombed the first 2 exams in a row, I knew it was time for me to withdraw. I received a W on my report card but it didn’t effect my gpa. I had to take an extra class the following semester to make up for it. I still remember it till this day. Other than that, I was doing good.

InspirAsian
Asian designers that inspired me: Yugo Nakamura, Gicheol Lee, Chris Dang and Hien Nguyen. I know there’s a lot more fantastic asian designers out there; however, these guys just came to my mind for the moment.