A woman from Chiang Mai speaks in Thai, Mandarin, and Yunnanese. That is the voice I am the most familiar with, the one I first sensed and heard from within her womb. It is also my mother tongue. I chat with my mother about her family of origin and childhood memories. When we are not talking, I wander around the house, touching light and air. Those scents and traces of where my mother resides, along with the fleeting images of her presence, are my intimate gaze of her.
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