].“imagination is the only weapon in the war with reality”
Hogwarts. Avengers Tower. Gotham City. Hampden College. The Hong Kong Shatterdome. Tattooine. Olympus. Henrietta, Virginia. What do each of these places have in common?
They gave me a home — for as long or as little as I needed. Their spells and protection kept me warm against the chill of the world beyond my eyes and ears, teaching me in more ways than one how to navigate worlds beyond my own through similar mythical structures that I would not come to learn until my early twenties. They took my hands, freezing and numb, and warmed them by the fire of the common room or the motion of fighting monsters, but not once did I ever feel as if I didn’t belong. There seemed to be a place for everyone within these estranged realities.
I am a child of media. Raised by parents from two different generations and two very different cultures, one of the most impactful things that keeps my family together is music, literature, and film. When I was ten, my mother introduced her children to Star Wars (and ultimately spoiled us the surprise that was Anakin’s reveal as Darth Vader, but that’s okay. We forgive her) and not long after that were we watching James Bond films weekly, as part of our weekend movie nights. Every Friday night we would blast music throughout the house and just dance, sing, laugh and love together as if nothing else in the world was more important — because for us, it wasn’t — and such a love for things like this has only gotten stronger throughout the years.
I am a child of the internet. Whatever my parents didn’t teach me through their interests, I learned through years of watching Glee and the Marvel Cinematic Universe, reading and writing fanfiction and making friends all over the world who also expressed the appeal in dissecting stories. From feeling represented by Tony Stark’s anxiety to holding back tears watching Santana Lopez being outed before she was ready, I began to understand that the things I felt were not limited to my experience but those of so many around me every day. I was taught by the ins and outs of 2010s infographics on the impact of feminism and crave to carry on that legacy to this day.
This blog is a product of passion. Of years and years devoted to consuming media that has such an effect on me that I would rather live in fiction than experience what lies outside my front doorstep. I watched Mulan fight for what she believed was right, followed Katniss Everdeen through her endless sacrifice, listened to the words of Halsey as she overcame her trauma little by little. I grew up to the tune of #MeToo rallies and protests for freedom and now fall down the rabbit hole of news stories that encapsulate our contemporary experience with a virus, vaccination, and incompetent governments. I don’t know exactly what will come of this work – of months and months of writing – but I know that I want to give my everything to what you read today. Tomorrow. Next week, next month, next year.
I aim for the Lavande Review to be updated bi-monthly (either twice a month, or once every two months – who knows?) and highlight a small number of books, films, and/or music consumed from one post to the next. I think it’s time I nerd out the way I should have back in high school when I practically lived between the foyer and seats of Golden Village and Shaw Theatres in Singapore, so here we go. Welcome to Wonderland.
Title quote originally written by Lewis Carroll.
