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One of the first words I learned was “củ cải” (radish), but back then, because I mispronounced things, I said “tục tặc” instead. Even after I grew up, my mom would still playfully call it by that name, saying with a fond smile: “Let’s make some tục tặc for little Tồ today.”
Chubby white tục tặc is a childhood wrapped in Mom’s love.
This past spring, Mom grew a lot of tục tặc — fat, sweet, and all twisted into funny shapes. To me, those tục tặc were beautiful and full of imagination. More evocative than even a nude model.
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A memory from a perilous adventure.
It seems my internal “warning bell” had already gone off when I first saw the sea urchins lurking below the surface, like clusters of underwater landmines. But driven by a love for thrill and adventure, I ignored all the signs and dove headfirst into this new game.
I’m just grateful to still be here, writing and drawing—doing the things I love.
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The painting evokes the cycle of life and death, highlighting the finality of the skeleton in contrast to the enduring presence of the crow — a symbol often associated with the mysteries that follow life.
It reflects the ceaseless regeneration of nature, where one form of existence yields to another.