This habit of holding onto, of–even–being fortified by, wounds that have defined and divided one, is, I might venture, still very Vietnamese... The juxtaposition inside me: that version of me that wanted (has wanted for years) to simply let go and enjoy the light; and the part of me that still feels, to what I will admit may be obsessive or at times unhealthy degrees, compelled to wrestle with layers of darkness I also understand have wrought both the strongest and most tender aspects of my being. There is a tension to inhabit, no doubt, in being of history seeking to be free of history.

 Dao Strom