Sunday Morning
is from the memories of my childhood weekends, filled with movies and TV shows.
On Saturday nights, I was allowed to stay up late, watching Grey’s Anatomy that my mom had on. And on Sunday mornings, I would wake up to the sound of Disney films or Tom and Jerry playing softly in the background. Still half-asleep, my sister and I would carry our blankets into the living room and spend the morning lying there together.
As I grew older, weekend mornings meant early movie screenings. I remember earning pocket money by plucking my dad’s gray hairs or organizing the shoe cabinet, just to buy a movie ticket. That quiet nostalgia still lingers, and somehow, it brings me joy now as I work as a compositor.
I’ve loved art for as long as I can remember. Reading about Michelangelo made me curious about what art truly is. But by the time I entered high school, I wasn’t sure what kind of artist I wanted to become, and I worried about my parents’ concerns, especially since art didn’t seem like a stable career path. (If you grew up with Asian parents, you might understand.)
So I chose industrial design as a practical alternative. I enjoyed it, and during my studies, I found myself drawn to service design. One project that stayed with me was a hospital case study about designing pathways for patients with dementia. Instead of preventing them from getting lost, the design allowed them to get lost safely. That idea felt new and meaningful to me. From then on, designing for people began to feel less like a choice, and more like a calling.
I went on to work as a UX designer, eventually taking on lead roles. For a while, it felt like I would continue down that path. But then one day, I came across visual effects and something sparked. Becoming a compositor felt like reconnecting with a part of my childhood.
Film, to me, is where art and people meet. It’s one of the few spaces where we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, to feel deeply, to laugh and cry together in the same moment, sitting in a theatre among strangers yet sharing the same emotion.
Like the hospital path case study, where getting lost was allowed rather than prevented, we are given space to feel our emotions through the screen. That experience means something profound to me.
I’m excited for what lies ahead, and I’m deeply grateful to have found this dream.
