Collected in The Smudged Hyphen (2026).
On Sunday, I sat with four girls, three mine and a friend’s daughter at Movie Tavern for the sing along version of Kpop Demon Hunters. On my left was another woman about my age with a group of kids younger than mine. They all clutched light sticks as they trooped in. The theater was full. The audience was plugged in, engaged and loud the entire time. We sang, laughed and angst(ed) together. Walking out the theater, we dispersed into the fall like evening like leaves floating in the wind.
Love Chaos Kin has screened at four festivals so far. Every single time, after the screening, we meet people from the audience who are genuinely moved. They give us hugs, hold our hands and share vulnerable stories. I leave humbled each time.
At the doctors office today with Laddu, the new doctor’s assistant chatted with us as she gave Laddu her shots. In the process we learned she was an Eyekon as well just like us. We traded notes on our biases (Lara, Sophia), favorite songs (Gabriela) and talked about trying for concert tickets closer to the date.
A week after the election, I sat in my study wondering why my gut feeling went wrong. Did I read the enthusiasm for Harris/Walz ticket wrong? Were all the women in all of the different social circles I am part of wrong? Why didn’t what I saw on ground translate to an election victory?
These days, I scan new aggregators for mention of protests, of acts of resistance. I don’t see any at the top. Yet, my social media feed throws up videos and first person accounts of people marching silently, peacefully, making art and music and building community as they do.
Today as I walked in the morning, all these seemingly random dots connected. Sony didn’t believe in the power of a diverse, authentic story. The gatekeepers in high places do not see the value in a vulnerable human connection story that is Love Chaos Kin. The average person in America (and the world) belongs to a far more racially and culturally diverse family unit than the media and news will have us believe. These stories of connection and culture are relatable to the world once they break free from the gatekeepers who hold them back.
Music has no barriers. The communities and fandom that art creates is a thriving, resilient force. I love the way my timeline erupted today when news of the Swift Kelce engagement broke. Human connection that breaks barriers because people crave joy. They celebrate happy things. Irrespective of where we come from, we recognize love, we recognize respect, we recognize joy.
It made me think of the gatekeepers who control how information flows, what information flows and when we get to consume information. It is the only minority that I cannot get behind. The class of billionaires who are threatened by the power of human connection and community. The set of people who want to erase history and control what is presented as art. They want art to reflect the world they want to create, not art that is a mirror of what is.
For long, I have instinctively felt that joy is resistance, living our lives without fear is resistance, permitting hope to pervade our soul is resistance. No one can quell what is inevitable, a changing world that will not look like the minority at the top. It may feel like they have the upper hand now, not for long though.
Better days will come. It will come because, at our core, we are humans, the world around us is diverse, vibrant and joyous.
What we are hearing and seeing is the death rattle of a dying empire. Endure. Hold on tight. Hope and light are around the corner. Keep making music, write those words teeming in your head, paint what you see around you, bring those stories of life, love and connection to the screen. This is how we create the world we want to live in. We mirror what we are and hold it up high.
Peace.
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