bonkayonka

[bonkayonka]

Hand-Made Ceramic Pencil Cup

[bonkayonka]

Bonka is reading at a park bench, reading her favorite romance book. As she does so, she does not notice time passing by quickly. The sun begins to set, and people begin to leave the park. Bonka continues to read and watch the sunset in the peace of her isolation. However, she notices a shadow creep up from behind her. 

Stranger: How’s my gorgeous girl doing?

Bonka: Who are yo-

Bonka is immediately blindfolded and muffled and taken away in a black van. Bonka tries to cry for help, but it is too dark and empty in the park for anyone to hear. The stranger takes her to an abandoned hospital, strapping her to a chair in a lab.

Bonka: Let me go! 

Stranger: Shhhh. Don’t resist. You’re not allowed to leave. You will never escape!

Bonka: What do you want from me?

Stranger: I’ve been watching you for the longest time. You’re the perfect specimen. 

Bonka: What do you mean?! My parents and my boyfriend are going to be searching for me!

Stranger: Your boyfriend? He’s going down the drain hole! I already took care of him earlier. 

Bonka angrily squirms, in an attempt to get out of the chair. 

Bonka: Why?! She cries out

Stranger: Be quiet. The neuron needs a break. Go to sleep. You do deserve it. 

Bonka resists falling asleep but eventually gets exhausted and falls asleep. Bonka wakes up the next morning to a scream.

Stranger: I got my test score back today. I got a 97!

Bonka: Wait, are you in high school? Do you go to the same school as me?

Stranger: Yeah, but of course you don’t know who I am. Anyways, I need to get into Harvard, and I need you for my research experiment. 

Bonka: Experiment? For what? What are you going to do to me!?

Stranger: Don’t worry about it. I have been in love with you for years, I wouldn’t hurt you.

Bonka sits in confusion and hesitates before replying. 

Bonka: No, you know what. I have noticed you in the halls, but I always thought you were way out of my league, so I was scared to approach you!!

Stranger: Really? That’s perfect, now we can be together! 

Bonka: What should we do this weekend? We have a lot to do, don’t we?

Stranger: Yes, I have a lot of plans. First I have to shave your head.

Bonka: What? Would you think I’m just as attractive if I was bald?

Stranger: Of course. I don’t care about looks. I care about your brain, isn’t that so much better than other people’s superficial values? Their love isn’t real. Mine is. I look around me and I realize how amazing our relationship is.

The stranger grabs a needle and razor, as he approaches her head, but Bonka quickly slips out of her zipties and reverts the needle into his own head. Suddenly, he shrinks into a dog. 

Bonka: Bark for me. 

[bonkayonka]

“The neuron needs a break” “You and her are always so out of pocket” “I got my test score back today. I got a 97!” “What should we do this weekend? We have a lot to do.” “The dance is so addicting.” “There was recently a paper published on climate change, talking about the impact on reproduction of vertebrates. I can’t wait to tell you this story.” “He’s going down the drain hole!” “Well I thought I liked it until I saw your reaction” “How’s my gorgeous girl doing?” “It’s fine. You do deserve it.” “You’re not allowed to leave. You will never escape!” “I look around me and I realize how amazing our relationship is.” “Who’s a loser? What’d you say?” “It’s going to be hard to see each other in the summer.” “Would you think I’m just as attractive if I was bald?” “You should train him” “I got chewed out at dinner.” “My parents took me off of the insurance.” "Bark for me."

[bonkayonka]

metal rose vs natural rose

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Ideas

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Beliefs - Fruit of Labor - Beyonca Zhang

My hands gradually grew stiff, as the flour and water hardened between the crevices of my fingers, consuming them. With thickened fingers, I continued to scoop, pleat, and repeat. I lifted my head, turning to see my mother’s army of dumpling soldiers lined up across the island but turned back only to see a bloody battlefield of fallen soldiers, lying like popped balloons, in front of me. Knowing mine would never be able to compare, my frustration combined with neck aches and self revulsion led me to the sink, leaving her to finish the rest of the batch. I began to wash my hands with bitter resignation until my mother’s hand suddenly appeared to turn off the water. Beginning to scold me for my attitude, I winced at the sharpness in her cantonese. However, the furious storm casting over her began to settle. “You know why Mommy has you wrap dumplings even though you’re ‘bad’ at it? To show you the fruit of your labor. In America, you are very lucky to be able to have everything given to you, but this is to remind you that will not always be the case; it takes patience and process to be able to rise to success.” Her words catapulted over my head, and I pretended to nod in acceptance, silently dismissing it, as I was too dense and absent of gratitude to see the value of her message. However, as my anger subsided, I entered a trance, in an attempt to master the art of pinching the dough between my fingers fold by fold. Despite my efforts, they continued to collapse through my grasp. Determined to make the best dumpling yet, I carefully measured each pleat, each ounce of pressure, and each spoonful of meat, creating an expansive, delicate fan of skin attached to a pouch of meat that fit perfectly in the cradle of my palm. I continued strenuously, and eventually, my troops began to stand up by themselves, progressively becoming stronger. Not perfect, but worthy. Eager to try my creations, I rushed towards the plate of dumplings my mother had just fried, with a bowl in one hand, chopsticks in the other, and a mouth leaking with saliva. As the plate hit the counter, I quickly stabbed into the skin and meat and pushed it all into my mouth at once. As my teeth penetrated the skin, juice immediately flooded my mouth, scorching the flesh of my tongue. I frantically began to open and close my mouth, in an attempt to release the steam. “What are you doing!? You’re supposed to wait a little. You’re going to burn yourself, and you won’t even be able to taste the flavor. Start blowing on it. They taste better cold.” I stubbornly conformed to her warning and waited a grueling five minutes, though the scent of the chives in combination with the pork and the soy sauce tempted me, testing my patience. Picking up my chopsticks again, I tried a second time. When I bit into the meat, I immediately felt a cool relief in my mouth, and I was overcome with bursting flavors, allowing me to verify the truth to my mother’s advice. Today, after years, I produce rows at a rate it once took me to produce one. Wrapping dumplings, along with many skills in life, cannot be mastered within a few attempts. Invest a couple minutes, and get satisfactory. Invest a couple hours, days, months, and get extraordinary. The investment of time can never be easily endured, but it is a matter of self-discipline: a wait for the “flavor” to build and settle, a wait for development. It takes training and time to get your soldiers in top condition because there is no easy bake oven to success or talent. Rather, you must work for and learn to cook the food yourself - and then “blow on it.”

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project ideas

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Creative Spirit Poem

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Details of my Life

-The Mini World (Book)

-Quick Portal to Home (Arch/Spandrel)

-Bench of Solace and Peace

-Volcanic Layers of Flavor (Food)

-Perfect Balance (Sculpture)

-The City's Roots (Mural - Norris Homes)

-Perfect Match (Swans)

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Creative Spirit Video

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My Mosaic