Dear My Life

Header illustration for the review essay of Whisper of the Heart (1995) . Illustration created for editorial review purposes. 💭 Short Personal Reflection Whisper of the Heart (1995), Yoshifumi Kondō's only Studio Ghibli feature and one of the quietest masterpieces in the studio's history, found me at a moment I recognized deeply. There was a time when life felt so overwhelming that I couldn't see what lay ahead — like being stuck in a deep swamp, ready to let go of everything. In the film, Shizuku rewrites a song that once praised a hometown landscape into something closer to her reality — "Concrete Road." No forests, no hills, just a hard path that stretches forward, demanding that you keep moving. There are moments when our own paths feel just like that: dry, rigid, and endless. We don't know where we're going, or what waits at the end. And yet, Shizuku doesn't stop walking. Watching her, I felt something deeper than admiration — it felt like wit...

  Header illustration for the review essay of A Whisker Away (2020) . Illustration created for editorial review purposes. 💭 Short Personal Reflection A Whisker Away (2020), the Japanese animated fantasy film by Studio Colorido directed by Junichi Sato and Tomotaka Shibayama, found me in a feeling I recognized immediately. There are moments in life when you want to let everything go — when the urge to disappear somewhere no one knows you becomes overwhelming. When the reasons to quit feel clearer than the reasons to stay. I once found myself wanting to leave everything behind and live quietly as no one at all. Watching this film, that feeling came back to me — not as pain, but as recognition. Muge transforms into a cat through a mysterious mask and begins living another life. At first, it feels like liberation rather than escape. Behind the mask, no one sees her pain, and she doesn't have to reveal her true feelings. But the film quietly asks: is becoming something else really f...

  Header illustration for the review essay of Moxie (2021) . Illustration created for editorial review purposes. 💭 Short Personal Reflection Moxie (2021), Amy Poehler's Netflix coming-of-age comedy-drama, found me thinking about my daughters. I sometimes tell them that when they make a mistake, they shouldn't avoid it — but face it with honesty and courage. And there are moments when my younger daughter looks at me with steady eyes and says, without hesitation, "It was my fault. Please give me the punishment." In those moments, I find myself at a loss for words. What was the kind of confidence I thought I was teaching? And watching this film, I found that question returning to me. Vivian begins to speak up against the quiet unfairness that has long gone unquestioned in her school. At first, the voice is small. But the moment others begin to recognize it, it grows. The girls draw small marks on their hands — not as decoration, but as a quiet signal: you are not alo...

  Header illustration for the review essay of Toscana (2022) . Illustration created for editorial review purposes. 💭 Short Personal Reflection Toscana (2022), Mehdi Avaz's Netflix Danish romantic drama set in the Tuscan countryside, found me thinking about something I have noticed in my own life. Sometimes, when I am deeply focused on solving a problem, I reach a point where nothing works — and then, almost by accident, someone passing by says a single word, and the answer appears, embarrassingly simple. Why was I holding onto it so tightly? It happens with the smallest things, too. When I cannot find something, I ask someone else to look instead. Because when we become too absorbed, we begin to overlook what is right in front of us. Perhaps life — and even cooking — is the same. In Toscana , the act of cooking is not about control or precision alone, but about knowing when to step back. When to let things breathe. When to allow something else to enter. Because sometimes, it is...

  Header illustration for the review essay of Happy Together (1997) . Illustration created for editorial review purposes. 💭 Short Personal Reflection Happy Together (1997), Wong Kar-wai's Cannes Best Director–winning Hong Kong romantic drama, found me at a moment when I was still learning the difference between holding on and holding tight. Sometimes, things only become clear when we finally learn to let them go. When we grip too hard, everything blurs — but the moment we loosen our hold, what truly matters begins to come into focus. I've come to believe that even between the people we love most, there are lines that shouldn't be crossed — not out of coldness, but out of care. For a long time, I leaned on others, and I think that made me grow up a little later than I should have. There is a particular kind of discomfort in being forced, finally, to stand on your own. But somewhere in that darkness, something shifts. And it is only after passing through it that we begin ...