Clarisa Wong
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41 going on 42: The strange business of growing old
Growing old is curious paradox. At 41, I somehow feel as if I’m somewhere between the extremes of young adulthood and golden years’ senior. These bones creak and those joints ache; but aside from the biological aging doing their thing, I would believe I’m still 25 somewhere along the line – especially so in the…
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The meaning of life in a temporary universe
I wasn’t quite ready to climb down from the car on a rainy, moody Friday evening when I reached home from a long drive back after work. As the rain pelted on the side of my car window, I sat in silence in the driver’s seat; tired and exhausted from a long week, and quietly…
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Of passion fruit and writing
It is probably unanticipated to say that passion fruit somehow helped me fuel my passion for writing again. No, I was already a writer – albeit the commercial, marketing sort – before this. And staring down the fruit at the supermarket aisle one fine afternoon while doing a grocery run did not immediately register a…
