Chapter 01 / Love Letter To My Self
Joan Chang / Adam Tie / Andrea Tan / Sarah Huang Benjamin

The closer an object gets to us, the less clear and more distorted it becomes. We rarely see our selves clearly and truly because we’re the closest person to us. It’s hard to love your self if you can’t see your self. It’s hard to be your self if you lose perspective of who you are. In this opening chapter, Love Letter To My Self, I invite four protagonists of their stories—Joan Chang, Adam Tie, Andrea Tan and Sarah Huang Benjamin—to walk a few steps back, create some distance in order to take a closer look at themselves. And with that view before them, and within them, to write a love letter to themselves. I invite you to do the same—put your mind, your heart on paper, and see what you discover. In the mean time, this is my conversation with Adam.

The closer an object gets to us, the less clear and more distorted it becomes. We rarely see our selves clearly and truly because we’re the closest person to us. It’s hard to love your self if you can’t see your self. It’s hard to be your self if you lose perspective of who you are. In this opening chapter, Love Letter To My Self, I invite four protagonists of their stories—Joan Chang, Adam Tie, Andrea Tan and Sarah Huang Benjamin—to walk a few steps back, create some distance in order to take a closer look at themselves. And with that view before them, and within them, to write a love letter to themselves. I invite you to do the same—put your mind, your heart on paper, and see what you discover. In the mean time, this is my conversation with Adam.

words & photography KARMAN TSE
outfits HERMÈS
space “INTO AIR” EXHIBITION* BY DAWN NG

(*Concluded on February 21)

“…but here I am,
for once entirely alone
in the heartbeat
of what makes me feel alive.”

—Adam Tie

He writes because it helps others feel less alone. He writes to make them feel connected in curious spaces.

Curious spaces. Cuuu riiiii ous ssss paces. CRS SPCS. I find myself saying the words in my head on repeat. Breaking them open. Putting them back together. Exploring. De-constructing. Re-connecting. Stretching them. Breathing into them. (Word yoga.) I repeat them—with a fondness. There are words that feel like they belong together. They look and sound good together. “Curious spaces”. It feels familiar. Snug. Ah, I’ve been there before. I’ve taken a walk in it—through the Jardin des Tuileries, one cold November sunset, alone, looking for my self. In the arms of someone I had fallen out of love with. Loneliness in a room full of people I know (think I know?). One minute in the eyes of a stranger. “In the unquiet darkness”, as Fitzgerald says, and in the lucidity of light afterwards.

***

He found my bookshelf. Beelines for it.

(Why haven’t I organised my books? This is my Procrastinator’s Punishment right here.)

(Maybe he doesn’t even notice, and I’m the only Critic, Judge and Punisher here.)

Hands in pockets, he leans closer to study the shelf’s occupants. From where I stand—across the room, assembling his outfits for the photo shoot—I can feel the energy of his excitement. I recognised it right away. It’s the passion he spoke about—the “something in your soul that gets you bright-eyed and excited”.

“Murakami, yes, yes, of course. Sylvia Plath. Kundera…”

The Poet-And-Published-Author recites the names of our mutual friends, sotto voce. But the glee in his voice is palpable, unmistakable. The glee of fortuitously finding one’s pals at a party, familiar faces in the (strange) crowd. My mind travels to Midnight In Paris momentarily, his voice receding, and then to something he said in our first meeting: “My sister is my Gertrude Stein.”

“…Oh my, A Little Life, it’s depressing…” (Back to the Present. A not-a-stranger-not-yet-a-friend in my living room.

Curious space.)

“So you approve?”

“Haha. Yes, I approve.”

***

I still find myself in curious spaces often. Or else they find me. Between the lines has to be one of my favourites—I wonder if, in the very beginning, he started writing to help himself feel less alone. I wonder if he started writing to feel more connected in his own curious spaces. A freedom to be himself.

“To set oneself apart, cocooned, rapt in solitude, despite the wants of others. Virginia Woolf had her room. Proust his shuttered windows. Marguerite Duras her muted house. Dylan Thomas his modest shed. All seeking an emptiness to imbue with words.” — Patti Smith

I still find myself in curious spaces often. Or else they find me. Between the lines has to be one of my favourites—I wonder if, in the very beginning, he started writing to help himself feel less alone. I wonder if he started writing to feel more connected in his own curious spaces. A freedom to be himself.

“To set oneself apart, cocooned, rapt in solitude, despite the wants of others. Virginia Woolf had her room. Proust his shuttered windows. Marguerite Duras her muted house. Dylan Thomas his modest shed. All seeking an emptiness to imbue with words.” — Patti Smith

***

“Think of me as a disappointing Ken doll,” he says
to his stylist and photographer for the day—(me).

Self-deprecation is his armour
His greatest gift to self, his humour
With his pen on paper—he charges ahead, battles on
to create his world
With his empathy on paper—he cheers them on
so they can rebuild theirs

His words are how he fights
His poetry his light

Words have power,
they hold magic
Soul medicine or
soul-crushing weapon?
Build a wall or plant a path?

He smiles and laughs
enough to punctuate all his sentences—
He doesn’t hold back
That usually makes me wary, I tell him
“An attempt at extroversion,” he tells me
Armour or humour?
I don’t respond
Instead I fix his collar

***

February 19. We arrived at the location of our shoot. A space that would expire, cease to exist, in two days. It was with intention that I had chosen this vintage building where artist Dawn Ng’s exhibition, Into Air, was taking place. The exhibition was a meditation on time (“Time speeds up when we have fun, slows down while we wait, and stands still when we fall in love.”), and an ode to the truth (“The most beautiful things in the world are the ones that we can never hold on to no matter how hard we try.”)

I felt a deep connection with the story and spirit behind the project the moment I encountered the artist’s words. I knew at once this had to be it. The ephemerality. The inevitability. The poetry.

As you read this, the exhibition, the space that it was on February 19, is already a memory. These words, these photos mere souvenirs to prove we were there, that we were who we were when we existed in it, with it.

And who are we now? Who is he? Who am I? What about you? Our stories shall continue… each in our own curious spaces as we make sense of them, filling them with words of our choosing.

Adam wears HERMÈS

Adam wears HERMÈS

“The concept of HAPPINESS has always eluded me. I suppose it’ll constantly change as my perspective of the world changes. But right now, in this moment, PERFECT happiness would be accepting where I am while still daring to pursue great, BEAUTIFUL THINGS.”

“The concept of HAPPINESS has always eluded me. I suppose it’ll constantly change as my perspective of the world changes. But right now, in this moment, PERFECT happiness would be accepting where I am while still daring to pursue great, BEAUTIFUL THINGS.”

Who is Adam Tie?
Adam: A storyteller. It’s strange talking about myself in third person—makes me feel like a thespian or royalty, or someone with assumed self-importance, haha. But you’ve done me a kindness with this interview, so let’s indulge. Adam Tie is deeply fascinated by the human experience—particularly how strangers build connection and engage in intimacy. He finds that beautiful and fascinating. So much so that he built his passion project around this concept, and the fact that he has stayed in business after all these years shows that people are inherently fascinated with engaging in intimacy, too. That makes Adam Tie very hopeful and happy.

What is your current state of heart?
Adam: “State of heart”—I like that expression. It’s a tender variant of “state of mind”, and that made me smile. As always, during interviews when I talk about myself, a part of me feels undeserving of the spotlight. But I appreciate the curiosity and recognition, and my introversion is overpowered by my love for connection. So my current state of heart is humbled, and I deeply appreciate you for doing this.

Imagine meeting and having a conversation with your self for the first time, what do you think would be the first thing about you you’d notice?
Adam: It’d depend on the setting. In big groups with strangers, I’m usually quite reserved. So if I met myself in a large group, I’d probably think I was anti-social. But if I was introduced to myself by someone I trust, or if we were on the same wavelength whether in interest, humour or curiosity, I’d embrace you like we were long-lost siblings who realise they share matching pieces of a medallion that join together to read a message. I’m more comfortable in spaces of intimacy. So it depends on the space—if I were comforted or if I felt like an island.

Who is Adam Tie?
Adam: A storyteller. It’s strange talking about myself in third person—makes me feel like a thespian or royalty, or someone with assumed self-importance, haha. But you’ve done me a kindness with this interview, so let’s indulge. Adam Tie is deeply fascinated by the human experience—particularly how strangers build connection and engage in intimacy. He finds that beautiful and fascinating. So much so that he built his passion project around this concept, and the fact that he has stayed in business after all these years shows that people are inherently fascinated with engaging in intimacy, too. That makes Adam Tie very hopeful and happy.

What is your current state of heart?
Adam: “State of heart”—I like that expression. It’s a tender variant of “state of mind”, and that made me smile. As always, during interviews when I talk about myself, a part of me feels undeserving of the spotlight. But I appreciate the curiosity and recognition, and my introversion is overpowered by my love for connection. So my current state of heart is humbled, and I deeply appreciate you for doing this.

Imagine meeting and having a conversation with your self for the first time, what do you think would be the first thing about you you’d notice?
Adam: It’d depend on the setting. In big groups with strangers, I’m usually quite reserved. So if I met myself in a large group, I’d probably think I was anti-social. But if I was introduced to myself by someone I trust, or if we were on the same wavelength whether in interest, humour or curiosity, I’d embrace you like we were long-lost siblings who realise they share matching pieces of a medallion that join together to read a message. I’m more comfortable in spaces of intimacy. So it depends on the space—if I were comforted or if I felt like an island.

“I appreciate you.” / Sneakers, HERMÈS

“You don’t always have to excel at something, you don’t have to be impressive and draw applause. But in your efforts to be BETTER, to be HUMAN, to be part of this CURIOUS SPACE, the best thing in the world to be is sincere.”

“You don’t always have to excel at something, you don’t have to be impressive and draw applause. But in your efforts to be BETTER, to be HUMAN, to be part of this CURIOUS SPACE, the best thing in the world to be is sincere.”

What is one of your biggest self criticisms or judgements? How do you silence the bad DJ in your head and change the narrative?
Adam: Oof. Okay, is it bad that I find this so much easier to do? I actually stared at your previous question for a full minute, at a loss of what to write.

I think creatives, myself included, are very harsh on themselves, and honestly, that’s what makes great material. One of my biggest self criticisms is my self-deprecation. I’m very hard on myself, and I used to do everything in my power to deflect compliments because I felt unworthy. But I’ve worked on that over the years because I realised it’s quite crummy to respond to “I love your writing” with “ahh, well, you know, I’m no Neruda.” When you deflect from a compliment, you ruin a moment of intimacy.

I’ve been lucky with people telling me they enjoy my book, my writing. In the past, it seemed so impossible to just say “oh, thank you very much”. In retrospect, what is so difficult about that? We’re connecting in this moment, and I appreciate you, just as you appreciate me. I’ve been saying that a lot to people lately—“I appreciate you.” And it’s because I absolutely do.

When I say “self-love”, what comes to mind? What does it mean for you to love and value your self in the current season?
Adam: Having a moment for yourself without allowing external variables to rob you of internal happiness. So whatever it is, watching your favourite TV show in your room on a Friday night, indulging in your favourite sweet treat, going to the spa, jogging by the river—anything that brings you ease is what I’ll champion as self-love.

What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Adam: The concept of happiness has always eluded me. I suppose it’ll constantly change as my perspective of the world changes. But right now, in this moment, perfect happiness would be accepting where I am while still daring to pursue great, beautiful things. Too often, the concern of “not yet” and “what now” robs us of happiness, so I believe when you can be content with where you are while maintaining a motivation to move forward in life with those you love and cherish, that’s what perfect happiness is to me.

When we met, we spoke about self-doubt. When it rears its head, especially when you’re writing, how do you deal with it and keep going? Is there something, someone, somewhere you turn to when you have a bad day?
Adam: Tethers. It’s pretty funny—writing is my safe space, but it also exhausts me. When I was working on This Life Electric, my debut novel, every Saturday for months I’d wake up excited at 9am and head down to a café and just write the entire day. But then when I get stuck, when I feel I’m doing the plot, the characters, my readers a disservice, I call myself a fraud. I get frustrated and angry, and it’s honestly a horrible feeling.

I feel like the loneliest person in the world.

Then I go to bed, exhausted and upset—but the next day comes and almost always, I go back to war with pen and paper. Because no matter how much self-doubt I have, this is my story to tell and there’s no one in this world who’s more me than myself—and that empowers me.

I truly believe that when you’re in love—and I’m genuinely, deeply, hopelessly in love with writing—you don’t just bear but you celebrate the shortcomings. That’s the thing about being passionate about something: You can never stay away for long.

What is a quote or mantra you live by?
Adam: Be sincere. You don’t always have to excel at something, you don’t have to be impressive and draw applause. But in your efforts to be better, to be human, to be part of this curious space, the best thing in the world to be is sincere.

What is your greatest fear?
Adam: Being a burden, a hindrance to those around me.

What self-care do you practice that has proven to be beneficial for your mental and emotional wellbeing?
Adam: Writing things down. I remember we talked about this and your love for journaling. Every night before I sleep, I take a piece of paper and write down a list of things I’d like to achieve the next day. It eases my anxiety, and when I wake up the next day, the first thing I do is look at that piece of paper. It’s therapeutic to cross things out one by one, and when I get to crush the paper into a ball and throw it into the bin—it’s such a great moment of exhale. Pen on paper will always be something that helps me feel structured and tethered.

Complete the sentence: The best gift I can give my self is…
Adam: Humour. One of the greatest things the human was given was laughter. If you’re able to find humour with people, with yourself, with the world, everything gets brighter.

Now, you ask me a question.
Adam: When we met, we talked about our introversion. I feel like you do this for the same reason I do—you’re fascinated by people, you want to tell stories, you want to connect and interact. What will bring you perfect happiness with regards to this platform?

Me: In one of her 100 poem letters in Storyteller, Morgan Harper Nichols wrote: “Tell the story / of the mountain / you climbed. / Your words / could become a page / in someone else’s / survival guide.”

I told you about that dark chapter in my story when I couldn’t make sense of my life and felt extremely alone, hopeless and disconnected from my self. The only place where I felt understood when I couldn’t even understand myself, where I felt something other than despair and emptiness was in books, in the stories of those who knew the words and spoke my feelings, who taught and enlightened me. Their stories were my survival guide, and I want to do the same for others. If one person feels seen, heard, understood and less alone, if one person encounters The Cœur and walks away with a new charge of inspiration and courage to love her/him self a little more—and first— whether she/he is here to tell her/his story or to read someone else’s, then that’s heart work accomplished. The thought of it makes me happy. So actually, you’re quite right—you kind of answered your question to me in your way. It is about discovering meaningful connections, finding our place, our voice in the world, writing our own story, making our own magic in this life. No one else can do it for us, so each of us is on this journey on our own, but together. Even when you feel like you’re all alone, you’re all not alone, alone. I hope The Cœur is that space where I can be my self, and you can be your self, whole-heartedly. That’ll make me happy 🙂

Thanks for this question. It’s a great question, brings me back to the “why” of this project. And thank you for your time. I appreciate you, too.

What is your greatest fear?
Adam: Being a burden, a hindrance to those around me.

What self-care do you practice that has proven to be beneficial for your mental and emotional wellbeing?
Adam: Writing things down. I remember we talked about this and your love for journaling. Every night before I sleep, I take a piece of paper and write down a list of things I’d like to achieve the next day. It eases my anxiety, and when I wake up the next day, the first thing I do is look at that piece of paper. It’s therapeutic to cross things out one by one, and when I get to crush the paper into a ball and throw it into the bin—it’s such a great moment of exhale. Pen on paper will always be something that helps me feel structured and tethered.

Complete the sentence: The best gift I can give my self is…
Adam: Humour. One of the greatest things the human was given was laughter. If you’re able to find humour with people, with yourself, with the world, everything gets brighter.

Now, you ask me a question.
Adam: When we met, we talked about our introversion. I feel like you do this for the same reason I do—you’re fascinated by people, you want to tell stories, you want to connect and interact. What will bring you perfect happiness with regards to this platform?

Me: In one of her 100 poem letters in Storyteller, Morgan Harper Nichols wrote: “Tell the story / of the mountain / you climbed. / Your words / could become a page / in someone else’s / survival guide.”

I told you about that dark chapter in my story when I couldn’t make sense of my life and felt extremely alone, hopeless and disconnected from my self. The only place where I felt understood when I couldn’t even understand myself, where I felt something other than despair and emptiness was in books, in the stories of those who knew the words and spoke my feelings, who taught and enlightened me. Their stories were my survival guide, and I want to do the same for others. If one person feels seen, heard, understood and less alone, if one person encounters The Cœur and walks away with a new charge of inspiration and courage to love her/him self a little more—and first— whether she/he is here to tell her/his story or to read someone else’s, then that’s heart work accomplished. The thought of it makes me happy. So actually, you’re quite right—you kind of answered your question to me in your way. It is about discovering meaningful connections, finding our place, our voice in the world, writing our own story, making our own magic in this life. No one else can do it for us, so each of us is on this journey on our own, but together. Even when you feel like you’re all alone, you’re all not alone, alone. I hope The Cœur is that space where I can be my self, and you can be your self, whole-heartedly. That’ll make me happy 🙂

Thanks for this question. It’s a great question, brings me back to the “why” of this project. And thank you for your time. I appreciate you, too.

“One of the greatest things the human was given was LAUGHTER. If you’re able to find humour with people, with yourself, with the world, everything gets BRIGHTER.”

“One of the greatest things the human was given was LAUGHTER. If you’re able to find humour with people, with yourself, with the world, everything gets BRIGHTER.”

Adam Tie is a published poet and the author of This Life Electric. He’s also the founder of The Novel Encounter.