Ernest Hemingway: The Hardest Lesson

 By Jonathan Shih

Ernest Hemingway once wrote: The hardest lesson I have had to learn as an adult is the relentless need to keep going, no matter how broken I feel inside.

This truth is raw, unfiltered, and painfully universal. Life doesn’t stop when we are exhausted, when our hearts are shattered, or when our spirits feel threadbare. It keeps moving—unyielding, indifferent—demanding that we keep pace. There is no pause button for grief, no intermission for healing, no moment where the world gently steps aside and allows us to mend. Life expects us to carry our burdens in silence, to push forward despite the weight of all we carry inside.

The cruelest part? No one really prepares us for this. As children, we are fed stories of resilience wrapped in neat, hopeful endings—tales where pain has purpose and every storm clears to reveal a bright horizon. But adulthood strips away those comforting illusions. It teaches us that survival is rarely poetic. More often than not, it’s about showing up when you’d rather disappear, smiling through pain no one sees, and carrying on despite feeling like you're unraveling from the inside out.

And yet, somehow, we persevere. That’s the quiet miracle of being human. Even when life is relentless, even when hope feels distant, we keep moving. We stumble, we break, we fall to our knees—but we get up. And in doing so, we uncover a strength we never knew we had. We learn to comfort ourselves in the ways we wish others would. We become the voice of reassurance we once searched for. Slowly, we realize that resilience isn’t always about grand acts of bravery; sometimes, it’s just a whisper—“Keep going.”

Yes, it’s exhausting. Yes, it’s unfair. And yes, there are days when the weight of it all feels unbearable. But every small step forward is proof that we haven’t given up. That we are still fighting, still holding on, still refusing to let the darkness consume us. That quiet defiance—choosing to exist, to try, to hope—is the bravest thing we can do.

Jacquemus Recreates His Family Photos

By Jonathan Shih

French designer Jacquemus pays tribute to his family roots with a photo series meant to “honor the past while creating something new for the future.” Inspired by cherished family memories, the series captures the emotional essence of his upbringing and reflects the deeply personal spirit that shapes his creative vision.

The 1984 Macintosh

By Jonathan Shih 

Steve Jobs showing Andy Warhol, Keith Haring and Kenny Scharf how to use a Macintosh computer that Sean Lennon received for his 9th birthday (1984).

Jim Morrison's Early Rebellious Spirit

By Jonathan Shih

In June 1961, Jim Morrison, later the legendary frontman of The Doors, graduated from George Washington High School in Alexandria, Virginia. Even as a teenager, Morrison exhibited a rebellious spirit and deep intellectual curiosity that set him apart from his peers. His refusal to attend the graduation ceremony on June 13 was emblematic of his lifelong resistance to convention. When his name was called during the ceremony and no one stepped forward, school officials ultimately mailed his diploma—an early glimpse into the enigmatic and defiant persona he would become known for.

During his high school years, Morrison was already immersing himself in literature and philosophy, reading works by Nietzsche, Rimbaud, Kerouac, and Blake. His academic performance was uneven, but his teachers noted his sharp intellect and vivid imagination. Alexandria in the early 1960s was a conservative and orderly suburb, and Morrison’s nonconformist outlook created friction both at home and in the classroom. Still, those formative years served as a foundation for the poetic and often provocative lyricism that would later define The Doors’ music. His early writings and worldview were shaped by this period of quiet rebellion and intense self-education.

The significance of Morrison’s high school graduation lies not in the ceremony itself but in what it represented—a symbolic departure from mainstream expectations. Within just a few years, Morrison enrolled at UCLA’s film school, met Ray Manzarek, and formed The Doors, whose explosive debut came in 1967. Today, keywords such as “Jim Morrison early life,” “1961 Alexandria Virginia,” “George Washington High School alumni,” and “Doors history timeline” remain in high demand among music historians and cultural scholars, ensuring that this lesser-known detail of Morrison’s youth continues to resonate with new generations.

Henry Holiday: Pre-Raphaelite Disciple

By Jonathan Shih

Henry Holiday (17 June 1839 – 15 April 1927) was a British historical genre and landscape painter, stained-glass designer, illustrator and sculptor. He is part of the Pre-Raphaelite school of art.

Holiday was born in London. He showed an early aptitude for art and was given lessons by William Cave Thomas. He attended Leigh's art academy (where a fellow student was Frederick Walker) and in 1855, at the age of 15, was admitted to the Royal Academy Schools. Through his friendship with Albert Moore and Simeon Solomon he was introduced to the artists Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Edward Burne-Jones and William Morris of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. This movement was to be pivotal in his future artistic and political life.

In the same year, 1855, Holiday made a journey to the Lake District. This was to be the first of many trips to the area, where he would often holiday for long periods of time. Whilst there, he spent much of his time sketching the views which were to be seen from the various hills and mountains. He wrote, "For concentrated loveliness, I know nothing that can quite compare with the lakes and mountains of Westmorland, Cumberland and Lancashire

The Paco Train Station

By Jonathan Shih

The historic Paco Train Station iconic old clock stopping does not erase the history of the building it is part of. While the clock's function as a timekeeping device may be interrupted, the building's historical significance, architectural details, and past events remain. Paco Train Station, originally built in 1915, served as a grand neoclassical terminus for the Manila Railroad's Main Line South. Designed by William E. Parsons, it was part of the Manila Belt Line and the now-defunct Cavite Line. The station, partly demolished in the 1990s to make way for a mall, still retains its iconic facade.

Leonora Carrington: The Grand Dame of the Surrealists

By Jonathan Shih

Leonora Carrington was never interested in being someone’s muse. Born in England in 1917, she was raised in privilege but refused to conform to the life expected of her. When she met the much older Max Ernst, she plunged into the Surrealist movement—but not as an accessory. She was a force in her own right, painting dreamscapes filled with wild-haired women, hybrid creatures, and esoteric symbols drawn from Celtic myth, alchemy, and feminism. She fled to Mexico after a nervous breakdown during World War II, and there, she rebuilt her life on her own terms.

Her novel The Hearing Trumpet is a wildly imaginative, feminist satire about an elderly woman who uncovers a secret, apocalyptic sisterhood in her retirement home. It’s sly, surreal, and entirely unlike anything her male contemporaries wrote. Her painting The Giantess (The Guardian of the Egg)—a towering feminine figure cradling a fragile egg in a golden wheat field—is full of power and mystery. Where Dalí peddled spectacle, Carrington explored inner transformation. She didn't paint for approval. She painted to survive, to understand, to resist.

She lived for nearly a century, creating work filled with the kind of depth and defiance that demands a second look. And now, finally, the world is beginning to see her not just as a muse or a lover, but as a visionary artist and author who conjured a new kind of magic—entirely her own. 

The Rothko Chapel

By Jonathan Shih 

The Rothko Chapel in Houston, Texas, is an extraordinary fusion of art, architecture, and spirituality, designed by Philip Johnson, Howard Barnstone, and Eugene Aubry after being commissioned in 1964 by John and Dominique de Menil. Envisioned by Mark Rothko, the octagonal, non-denominational space houses 14 monumental paintings—seven black and seven plum-colored canvases—surrounding visitors in a deeply contemplative environment. Disagreements with Philip Johnson over the building’s scale led to several architectural revisions before the final structure was completed in 1971, a year after Rothko’s death.

The Chapel’s minimalist brick facade, baffled skylight, and recessed floor create a subdued architectural setting that enhances the paintings’ meditative power. The exterior features a reflecting pool and Barnett Newman’s Broken Obelisk, further emphasizing themes of reflection and transcendence. Rothko’s exploration of mortality and spirituality is embedded in the space, making it not only a memorial to his artistic vision but also a reminder of his personal struggles. The Chapel, positioned near the Renzo Piano-designed Menil Collection, remains a transformative cultural site where art, architecture, and contemplation converge.

Art/Life One Year Performance

 By Jonathan Shih

A one year performance by Linda Montano and Tehching Hsieh (1983-1984)

The two spent an entire year bound together by an eight-foot cord tied around their waists. The rules of the artwork stipulated that they would not touch each other. The work speaks to issues like freedom, privacy, control, and commitment, as well as the way humans coexist and rely on each other. Daily activities such as sleeping, cooking, and bathing became constantly challenging, as the two couldn’t be more than 8 feet apart from each other.

As Hsieh said, “I wanted to do one piece about human beings and their struggle with each other. We cannot go into life alone, without people. But we are together so we become each other’s cage.”

James Ensor: Skeletons Warming Themselves

By Jonathan Shih

Ensor's work fell between several movements, including Symbolism, Expressionism and even Impressionism.  Much of his work was political or had religious meanings, yet he seemed to always mask those ideas behind fantastical images

Ensor is regarded as one of the most original painters of the late 19th century. Populated with masks and skeletons, his images are morbid commentaries on the human condition, his hometown of Ostend on the north sea, Belgian hustory, and his own mortality. Human bones were regularly uncovered in Ostend well into the 20th century,  residue of the carnage there during early 17th century warfare; Ensor retained childhood memories of their exhumation. In 1888, he made a little etching of himself as a reclining skeleton in slippers, entitled "My Portrait in 1960" (at age 100!)

Belonging to a group of closely related paintings from the late 1880s, Skeletons Warming Themselves is considered one of Ensor's masterpieces. He's placed three dressed-up skeletons in the foreground around a stove on which is written "Pas de feu", and under it "En trouverez vous demain?" – "No fire. Will you find any tomorrow?" The skeletons are accompanied by a palette, a brush, a violin and a lamp. Presumably, Ensor intended these items to symbolize art, music and literature. If so, the probable implication is that artistic inspiration, or patronage to support it, has expired. Understood as a scene in an artist's studio, the painting resembles a vignette from the popular Medieval and early Renaissance print cycles of the Dance of Death, each print portraying skeletons as an allegorical comment on the vanities of a particular profession or social type. X-rays reveal another finished picture beneath this scene. It is a bust-length portrait of a young girl, likely painted before 1883. Ensor's re-use of an earlier canvas may reflect his own difficult economic condition in 1889.

"Skeletons Warming Themselves", 1889

Oil on canvas

76.2 x 60.96 cm. (30 x 24 in.)

Kimbell Art Museum

Fort Worth, Texas 

Birds of a Feather by Joseph Cornel

 By Jonathan Shih

Birds of a feather: Artist Joseph Cornell is best known for his groundbreaking assemblage work. From his home in Queens, New York, he assembled an intriguing array of objects in glass-fronted wooden boxes, creating self-contained worlds filled with emblems of his fantasies, musings, yearnings, delights, and regrets. Each box's formal structure implies a narrative, yet the mysterious components reveal no forthright message. Instead, his works invite viewers to imagine stories, travel into the past, and play and dream like a child. 

Flock together: Explore Joseph Cornell's "Untitled (Aviary with Yellow Birds)" (c. 1948) in "Revolutions."

Earth Sandwich

By Jonathan Shih 

In January 2020, Etienne Naude from New Zealand and Angel Sierra from Spain created an “Earth sandwich” by placing slices of bread at exact antipodal points on the globe.

Using online tools to determine precise coordinates, they synchronized their efforts despite a 12-hour time difference. Naude even laser-engraved designs onto his bread slice to commemorate the event. This whimsical project, inspired by a 2006 initiative by Ze Frank, highlights global connectivity and the collaborative spirit of internet communities.

Vivian Maier: Recluse and Invisibility

By Jonathan Shih

Vivian Maier worked as a nanny in the US city of Chicago in the 1950s and 60s. She also had a hidden other life, as a street photographer of genius. 

During her lifetime, Vivian's work was unknown and unpublished. Many of her negatives were never developed. Now, her pictures sell for thousands of dollars. 

Vivian captured extraordinary street scenes on her Rolleiflex camera. She would walk for hours on foot, photographing well-to-do shoppers uptown, but also people on the margins of society living in rougher neighborhoods.

As a live-in nanny, Vivian spent most of her wages on camera film, getting photos developed, and paying for storage lockers in which to keep her life's work - having no permanent home of her own.

Frances Brent was a friend of the family where Vivian worked. She recalled that Vivian always had her camera with her on family outings:

"There was no eye contact. She was just into the viewfinder. It was fascinating to see someone who was part of the group but had also found a way to take herself off from it." 

It was perhaps this quality of separateness, or even invisibility, which allowed Vivian to take such extraordinary photographs.

"There was always a degree of separation between her and everyone else", said Frances. "She was clearly a recluse."  And yet, Vivian's pictures show a fascination with fleeting, intimate moments in peoples' lives: 

"The camera presented this magical transition for her, that allowed her to see people and to get to places without being caught doing it," said Frances. "And people allowed it, because she wasn't there. She was just in the viewfinder."

Vivian's archives were auctioned when she died aged 83, and she is now considered one of the greatest street photographers of the 20th century.

America's Deep Political Divide

By Jonathan Shih

A comic published in Japan's Nikkei newspaper offers a satirical look at America's deep political divide. Using sharp symbolism and humor, it captures the growing tensions between conservative and liberal ideologies. From an outsider's perspective, the comic reflects how Japan views the internal struggles of U.S. politics—perhaps as a mix of instability, extreme partisanship, or cultural clashes. Its imagery and tone give us a glimpse into how foreign media interprets the fractured state of American society.