< Back Darwin Masbang “Always Be Different”: Darwin Sanchez Masbang’s Harana of Beauty Between Pampanga and Paris Images Provided by Darwin Masbang Darwin Sanchez Masbang didn’t arrive in Paris through a beauty school pipeline or a carefully mapped career plan. He came from Pampanga by way of Dubai and Taiwan, chasing work, supporting family, and stepping into new countries whenever an unexpected door opened. In a small coworking salon in central Paris, this former practical nursing student and pageant kid has turned hair and makeup into his own kind of harana—a Filipino serenade of care and attention offered to a multicultural mix of clients, from French regulars to Asian migrants, each one invited to see themselves as already beautiful before his scissors even touch their hair. Imagine a salon in Paris late in the afternoon, set right on a busy street where the light falls generously on mirrors and glass. The floor around one chair is scattered with cut strands of hair, dark and blond, straight and wavy—small traces of old selves left behind. A client shows her stylist a photo on her phone: a copper‑haired white woman from somewhere on the internet. She wants that color. Behind her stands Darwin Sanchez Masbang, a Kapampangan hair and makeup artist from the Philippines who has made Paris his latest home. He looks at the picture, then at the woman in front of him. Copper, he knows, will not land the same way on her hair and skin. “It’s not for us,” he explains gently. “We are going to look like it’s an unfinished color.” Instead, he offers a shade that respects her natural depth and her reality of “Monday to Sunday” work, a color that can grow out softly without demanding constant maintenance. “You can go with me after six months, if you want, or a year, and then your hair is still okay,” he tells clients like her. “It doesn’t look like any demarcation of anything, it just grows.” For Darwin, this is a kind of modern harana. In Filipino culture, a harana is the traditional serenade: a young man standing beneath a window with a guitar, singing up to the woman he loves, offering his sincerity under the scrutiny of neighbours and family. It is public and vulnerable, a request to be seen and accepted. Darwin’s version is quieter, played out under salon lights rather than the night sky, but the instinct is similar. With each cut and color, he sings a wordless message to the people in his chair: you are already beautiful; let me help you see it in a way that fits your life. From Pampanga to Paris, by Way of Dubai and Taiwan “Obviously, I’m from Philippine,” Darwin says, laughing lightly at the obvious. He grew up in Pampanga, a region known for its rich food culture and strong local identity. When people in the Philippines hear that someone is Kapampangan, they often picture someone who dresses well and carries themselves with a certain confidence. Darwin uses the casual Filipino word porma for this—a slang term that means to be well put‑together in how you dress and present yourself. “We don’t go out, we just go to the church and we know we need to do porma,” he says. “So, he’s from Pampanga, so for sure, he’s going to wear polo.” As the only openly gay sibling in his family, Darwin grew into the role of quiet stylist at home, responsible for brows before church and fresh cuts for his mother. He joined a “group of gay friends” who did hair and makeup for local pageants. “We love pageants,” he recalls. “That’s the time that we’re starting to learn about hair and makeups.” At the same time, he followed a different track on paper: a two‑year practical nursing course, then a job as a sales associate and later supervisor at Crocs Philippines. Ambition pulled him outward early. At nineteen he left for Dubai with his cousin, despite his mother’s worries. “You’re so young. I think it’s difficult for you,” she told him. His reply was simple and stubborn: “I know it myself, I can do it. What’s the difference? It’s just a place that you’re riding an airplane. What’s the difference of going to Manila from Pampanga with a bus?” In Dubai, local norms made salon work difficult; many salons preferred to hire only women to touch female clients’ hair. Darwin turned instead to home‑service work and occasional freelance jobs, sometimes working in gloves that dulled the feel of his scissors and made his movements less precise than he liked. After about a year, another unexpected path opened. He accompanied his cousin to a recruitment interview for jobs in Taiwan; his cousin failed the height check, and on a whim Darwin stepped into the line instead. “We changed clothes, and then it’s me who passed the interview,” he remembers. Taiwan became the setting for his first real salon of his own. While working and studying Chinese—enough to be promoted in his company and act as a bridge between Chinese managers and Filipino workers—he rented a small space. “That’s the time I really started doing real business about salon,” he says. “Before I just do home service, I just do with friends. But my friends told me, I think it’s time for you to step up, you know? Maybe you can risk a little bit.” Paris, for Darwin, began as a visit, not a life plan. “Basically, I don’t have any plan to go to Paris, it’s just a plan to visit. But I met a guy in Paris,” he explains. He moved in May 2019, just before the pandemic. The timing could hardly have been worse. “I moved to Paris for more opportunities, and then COVID came,” he says. “I sacrificed myself, I have a good life in Taiwan, and then I have my own salon, and then it happened.” Yet the city eventually worked its way into his heart. He rents a chair in a coworking salon in central Paris, works with “all nations, French, Lebanese, Latinos, Latinas, Filipino, Japanese, Korean,” and has come to relish the feeling of returning. “Maybe you just hate Paris, or you just love Paris,” he reflects. “The thing is, I love Paris. When I go on vacations, and then when I go back to Paris to go home, it’s like I’m having another vacation.” Reading the Person, Not Just the Face When someone sits in Darwin’s chair, he does not begin with bleach or a blow‑dryer. He begins with conversation. “Before I’m going to start, I’m always talking to the clients and then checking and observing their personality,” he explains. He looks at their face “to know my canvas,” but insists that “about 80%” of the work is guided by who they are rather than their features alone. He pays attention to the small dissonances: the client who wants a glamorous, high‑maintenance look but moves with a shy, practical energy; the woman whose Instagram inspiration does not match her actual life in Paris. “Sometimes you look so glam and chic and then how you move, it’s not the same as the makeup,” he notes. In those moments, his task is to find a style that supports the person rather than the trend. Asked if he ever feels he is editing someone’s life story rather than just their appearance, he answers without hesitation. “I think I’m highlighting the happiest moments of their life, especially for wedding,” he says. “And then erasing the past of their lives and bad things that happened in their lives.” In his hands, hair becomes a kind of text: some parts emphasized, some softened, but the story is still theirs. Two Beauty Worlds in One Chair Darwin’s sense of what suits someone has been shaped by living inside two different beauty cultures. In the Philippines, he saw how straight, rebonded hair and Western‑leaning looks became shorthand for attractiveness. “If you have a rebond hair and straight hair, you’re feeling beautiful,” he says. “That’s why everyone in Philippines, they have straight hair.” Clients bring him pictures of blond hair and balayage they see on Western women, and he understands why. Paris has shown him another aesthetic rhythm. “They just do the ponytail and bun hair without anything,” he says. “It’s just messy, and then they’re still beautiful.” “Here they love volume,” he continues. “They don’t just stay with the thing that is trending right now, if they know they’re beautiful from what they’re doing.” Holding these two worlds together gives him a particular authority when younger Filipinas ask for advice. Many are “so absorbed in trying to look Westernized,” chasing procedures and products that promise to remake them. He suggests another route. “Always be different,” he says. “Don’t go with the same people, what they’re doing, always be different, as long as you feel beautiful, you’re okay.” He talks about trends like weight‑loss injections—“everyone go there”—and offers an alternative that values agency over fashion. “If you’re hesitating to get this one, so don’t get this,” he says. “If you know in yourself that you want to go to the gym, and you can do it normally and naturally, do it.” Then, with the tenderness of an older sibling, he adds: “Baby girl, always be different, in a good way, okay? It’s not always that everyone there is in a good path or the right path.” In a way, this too is harana—an intimate message offered openly, trusting that someone will hear themselves in it. How Transforming Others Transforms Him Over the years, Darwin’s work has taken him far from the small pageants of his early days. In Paris he serves as hair and makeup artist for a video and photography agency, working on commercials for brands that appear on YouTube and other platforms. During fashion week, he joins his boss backstage for runways at major houses, styling models whose images travel much further than the salon ever could. Privately, he maintains a roster of clients that ranges from discreet Parisian businesswomen to Filipino celebrities who pass through Paris during fashion week. These experiences have reshaped his understanding of himself. “Doing hair and makeup has changed my personality,” he reflects. The work has brought him into rooms he once never imagined entering. “Before, I thought it’s the end of the line of my career, you know? Like, I think I’m just, it’s just here,” he admits. “Now, if the president wants me to do the hair and makeup, I am not going to be intimidated anymore.” On a day‑to‑day level, what he values most is the creative trust some clients offer. “It gives me happiness because they are letting me do my things, you know, like, no limitation,” he says. “They give me the freedom of doing my own art. It’s not like a daily routine, like autopilot things. It’s organic. What hair do you want? Surprise me.” Representation, AI, and the Refusal to Panic For Darwin, representation in beauty begins with how he sees the person in front of him before any product is applied. “Makeup is just secondary, it’s just a cover,” he insists. “It boosts your confidence. But I can say, before you’re going to sit in my chair, I can tell you that you’re already beautiful, and you’re already confident.” He knows how much social media and global trends can distort self‑image. “You are just having some influence from social media, that you want to be someone like this or someone like this,” he says. His role is to counter that gently: “For me, you are already beautiful. We are just going to touch it up, we are just going to make it flawless.” When asked about advances in technology, culture, identity politics, and AI, he remains calm. “I believe there is no advanced technology or any advanced AI that can change talent and skills of a person,” he says. “There is AI right now. But there’s a makeup artist. If AI works, why do they need us?” Screens can make things look “beautifully in the screen, but not in person,” he points out. Virtual faces cannot replace the physical reality of hair, skin, and human presence. “There’s no such things as that,” he concludes; “there is still always like that” human formula and touch. In a world where even serenades can be auto‑tuned and streamed, he trusts that there will always be room for live voices and real hands. Beauty as Harana When Darwin is asked to imagine his work as a serenade—serenada, harana—he does not start with theory; he answers with a line that sounds like both a lyric and a life philosophy: “You are beautiful no matter what they say.” He admits it is something he has long told himself. “Because I only tell that to myself,” he says. “You’re always beautiful, no matter what they say, no matter what they do.” The classic Filipino harana envisioned a young man standing outside, risking ridicule to declare his devotion to a woman at her window. Darwin’s harana is different. It happens in a Paris salon, between a stylist and a client, often in a mix of French, English, and Filipino. The love he offers is not romantic but restorative: a way of returning people to themselves after years of comparison and doubt. At thirty‑three, he does not narrate a sudden personal metamorphosis. “Right now, I’m already transformed,” he says with a modest shrug. “Maybe I just want to make it better and better and better.” His dreams are precise and grounded: to keep supporting his parents now that his sister has “already graduated” and is working; to give them small joys, like the Mother’s Day trip he recently paid for; to one day bring them from Palawan to Paris, even if only “for a month.” Until then, his harana continues in the everyday rhythm of the salon. He sweeps the same floor, rents the same station, and welcomes a multicultural mix of clients—French, Asian, and many others—into his chair. Each appointment is a small act of trust: someone sits down, hands him their image, and lets him rewrite a few lines. The guitar of the old harana has become scissors and color; the window is now a mirror; the night sky has been replaced by the glow of Paris light. But the essence is the same. With every careful suggestion, every refusal to erase someone’s origins for the sake of a trend, every gentle “Baby girl, always be different,” Darwin Sanchez Masbang keeps singing a Filipino love song in the heart of France—a harana of beauty that crosses borders and quietly insists: you are already beautiful, and you deserve to be seen on your own terms. Darwin Masbang Work.JPG Darwin Masbang Work.JPG Darwin Masbang Work.jpeg Darwin Masbang Work.JPG 1/5 Images Provided by Darwin Masbang Previous Next

Shaira Ventura Embracing Diversity: Shaira Ventura and the Transformation of the Modeling Industry The modeling industry has undergone a significant transformation in recent years, embracing a global perspective that challenges traditional beauty norms and champions diverse cultural identities. This cultural shift has elevated models from various indigenous communities, allowing them to bring their unique heritage to mainstream fashion through campaigns, editorials, and runways. Among these trendsetters is Shaira Ventura, a 23-year-old from the Tausug community in Sulu province, Philippines. Ventura made waves by gracing the cover of Vogue Philippines in April 2024, captivating audiences with her natural elegance and modest charm. She represents a powerful shift away from conventional standards, highlighting the rich diversity and cultural heritage that indigenous models bring to the global fashion scene. The Tausug Heritage The Tausug, known as the “People of the Current,” possess a rich history and vibrant fashion culture that reflects their identity and traditions. For Tausug women, traditional attire includes the Batawi for formal occasions, often made of silk or velvet with intricate designs and gold button adornments. For daily wear, they wear the Sambra or Supa Supa, paired with Sawwal pants and an embroidered wrap called Kindang. Men wear the Badjuh Lapih as an upper garment and Kuput as pants. This sartorial legacy is woven into their cultural identity, influenced by Islam since the 13th century. The Tausug’s cultural roots run deep, with a history shaped by the establishment of the Sultanate of Sulu in 1475. While Islam is central to Tausug identity, they also retain elements of pre-Islamic practices that enrich their unique cultural heritage . A Journey of Balance and Faith Ventura, a newly registered nurse, grew up as the eldest child in her family, with three younger brothers. She describes her role as a caregiver and mentor to her siblings. “Being the eldest, I have to be the role model for my brothers,” Ventura explains. “When my parents are not around, I step in as a secondary parent, cooking for them, ironing their clothes, and attending school events,” she adds. Her journey into modeling began at age 12 through pageants, which led to opportunities with local designers. With her family’s support, especially her mother’s encouragement, Ventura balanced her cultural values with her aspirations, determined to pursue modeling while keeping nursing as a potential career path. Her modeling career is guided by her faith and cultural practices around modesty. In her hometown, she wears a hijab and adheres to traditional norms that emphasize covering her face and body except among close family members. “There are criticisms, but I keep in mind that my personal beliefs are more important than any criticism over appearances,” Ventura states. When Vogue Philippines approached her, Ventura expressed her requirements for modest attire, declining any styling that felt uncomfortable. “If it doesn’t feel right, then I don’t pursue it,” Ventura says. Her selection for the Vogue cover honors her authenticity and commitment to her values. Challenging Stereotypes and Celebrating Culture Ventura’s rise has also given her a platform to challenge stereotypes about her Tausug community, often misunderstood as combative due to media portrayals of Mindanao. “Someone once identified me as Tausug, saying they could tell by my expression, insinuating that I looked like I was ready for conflict,” Ventura recalls. She emphasizes that negative perceptions are overblown and do not represent the reality of her homeland. “It’s true that we can be fierce when defending our rights, but I grew up there and never encountered trouble.” “Tausug women can be fighters. We protect our rights and adapt while staying true to our values. Modesty and respect are the foundations of how we conduct ourselves,” Ventura asserts. Ventura also shares insights into Tausug customs around marriage and the evolving role of women. Traditionally, courtship led to prompt marriage, but today, women are empowered to choose their own spouses, aligning with Islamic requirements for mutual consent. Her parents serve as her role models, embodying both tradition and progressiveness. Ventura’s father, a mechanical engineer, and her mother, a school nurse and former aspiring model, support her unconditionally. She admires models like Kendall Jenner and Bella Hadid, appreciating their confidence, even though she does not emulate their style directly. Inspiring a New Generation As Ventura continues to pursue modeling, she recognizes her role as a representative of her Tausug community. She aims to inspire women by showing that a conservative background is not a limitation but a testament to respect for tradition. To young models with cultural concerns, Ventura offers encouragement to remain true to their practices and values. Shaira Ventura has become more than just a model—she’s an icon of honor, resilience, and cultural celebration. By bridging the worlds of tradition and contemporary style, she inspires her community to honor their roots unapologetically and reminds us all of the strength found in embracing who we are. Shaira Ventura isn’t just walking the runway; she’s leading a new generation to wear their heritage with pride. 1/5 Images provided by: Shaira Ventura

< Back Nihil By: Paolo Coumans Media Provided by Paolo Coumans This is a student film for my Sci-Fi class, featuring apocalyptic and existential themes. It incorporates the 1962 short film La Jetée’s photo-novel style, which favors still images over motion pictures. Previous Next

Nancy Qin Nancy Qin _ Portal.jpeg Nancy Qin _ Portrait.jpeg Nancy Qin _ Crowns of Glass.jpeg Nancy Qin _ Portal.jpeg 1/6 Images provided by Nancy Qin Australian artist NC Qin explores the histories of ancient battle artefacts with her primary medium of glass to prompt conversations on heritage and values. Appropriating the symbolism of glass and its associated fragility, risk and preciousness, she uses this medium as a lens to delve into psychological spaces. Her work alludes to global epics and philosophies that reflect her interests from her position as a Chinese Australian woman. Qin’s installations explore how myths change the value system of today, raising questions about the traditional values that are passed down. NC Qin has exhibited in spaces such as Bankstown Art Centre, Griffith Regional Gallery, FirstDraft Gallery, 107 Projects and installed works in sculpture walks such as HIDDEN, North Sydney Art Prize and Fisher Library, University of Sydney. Her series "Head Case" was shown at the Ashmolean Museum of Art and Architecture (Oxford, UK) as a finalist of IDENTITY 2019 and later collected by the National Museum of Glass (Wagga Wagga, Australia) as the winner of the National Emerging Art Glass Prize 2020. In 2021, she was commissioned by Gallery Lane Cove with a solo exhibition as part of the Lunar North Confluence with her work "Portal" going on to win the Vicki Torr Prize 2021. In 2022, she went on to be a finalist of numerous art prizes and was featured in a micro documentary by EST media. In 2023, she moved to the USA to pursue her MFA and expand her practice, in 2025 she won first prize in the Glass Art Society exhibition Evolution with her flameworked piece "Crowns of Glass: Yang Guifei". Upcoming Exhibition: RepreSENSATIONAL 2025 in St Louis at The Galleries at Heartland Art Club August 13 through October 4, 2025

Nguyễn Manh Lan Modern Masculinity: The Journey of Nguyễn Manh Lan, Mr. Vietnam 2024 Male pageantry, though less prominent than its female counterpart, is reshaping cultural ideals of masculinity. It moves beyond physical appearance, emphasizing intellect, talent, and character while celebrating diversity in backgrounds and body types. Nguyễn Manh Lan, crowned Mr. Vietnam 2024, exemplifies this shift through his remarkable achievements, showcasing a harmonious balance of beauty, strength, and individuality that reflects a progressive view of modern masculinity. Early Life and Education Nguyễn Manh Lan, a proud son of Hanoi, the capital city of Vietnam, embodies a blend of determination and adaptability. A graduate of the College of Television (CTV), he honed his skills in broadcasting and television, building the foundation for his versatile career. After a brief stint as a cameraman, Nguyễn ventured into the modeling world at just 21, marking the beginning of his journey in the spotlight. Beyond his creative pursuits, he contributed as an English translator, assisting his mother with document translations—a role he credits with significantly improving his English skills. “This is how I was able to improve my English,” Nguyễn reflects. Career Challenges and Breakthrough In 2015, Nguyễn entered the Supermodel Contest held in Ho Chi Minh City but did not claim victory. “I was physically heavy back then, and I did not know how to improve myself,” he recalled, reflecting on the challenges he faced early in his career. Recognizing the limited opportunities in Hanoi, he moved to Saigon, where he discovered a thriving scene that offered more work in modeling and acting for TV series and films. “Saigon has more work opportunities for me,” Nguyễn explained, appreciating the city’s dynamic environment. His determination paid off in 2016 when he made his runway debut at the highly anticipated Vietnam International Fashion Week, marking a significant milestone in his growing career. Overcoming Setbacks Nguyễn’s rising success has not been without its challenges. “I began seeing my friends receiving more opportunities to work as models and actors on television and in movies, while I wasn’t,” he shared. “It was very difficult for me to watch, and it made me feel incredibly impatient.” However, he used this frustration as motivation for self-improvement. “I realized that there was still plenty for me to work on,” he reflected, emphasizing the importance of continual growth. His determination and resilience ultimately led to his victory as Mr. Vietnam 2024, a title that marks the pinnacle of a hard-earned journey for this nearly 6 feet 4 inches tall young gentleman. Recent Achievement: First Runner-Up at the 16th Mister International Competition Adding to his impressive journey, Nguyễn Manh Lan recently secured the first runner-up position at the 16th Mister International competition, held in Bangkok, Thailand, on December 14, 2024. This achievement further solidifies his reputation on the international stage, highlighting his continued rise as a prominent figure in male pageantry and reinforcing his advocacies, redefining modern masculinity. Commitment to Social Causes During the Mr. Vietnam pageant, Nguyễn expressed his intention to donate a portion of his prize money to the victims of a recent typhoon in northern Vietnam. When asked how he envisioned his donation being used, he replied, “I would like the money to be used to provide food for the people in need.” His compassion extended beyond Vietnam’s borders, as he was also asked about helping other countries affected by powerful typhoons, such as the Philippines. With enthusiasm and conviction, Nguyễn responded, “Of course, it is about helping the people.” His commitment to supporting those in need reflects not only his sense of responsibility but also his genuine empathy for those affected by natural disasters. Advocating for Mental Health As Mr. Vietnam, Nguyễn hopes to address social issues, particularly mental health for men, emphasizing its personal significance. “I want to focus on mental health for men because they would be able to relate to me, as it comes from personal experience,” he explained. A 2020 study published by BMC Health Services Research revealed that 31.7% of adolescents in Vietnam experience symptoms of depression, with 11% showing suicidal tendencies. Nguyễn is deeply committed to supporting others, especially as an older brother to a young man studying abroad. “I want to keep my brothers alive, and if someone is depressed, I want them to know they should talk to someone, and I can be that someone,” he said. He credits his parents’ unwavering support as his foundation, especially during difficult times. “Saving people is what I want the most,” he concluded, expressing his dedication to mental health advocacy. Redefining Role Models When asked about his role models, Nguyễn shared a personal experience: “I had one. He is a celebrity and used to be my hero. After finally meeting him and seeing his true character, I realized he was no longer a role model for me.” He emphasized that being a public figure or attractive is insufficient for earning respect. “To be a role model, you need to be intelligent and a genuinely good person,” he said, highlighting the importance of integrity and substance over superficial qualities. Defining Beauty and Authenticity Nguyễn also shared his perspective on beauty and authenticity in a society defined by modesty: “Beauty is not just about how you look on the outside; it’s about how you treat people and animals. This is how I will find my girlfriend,” he explained. As his popularity continues to rise, Nguyễn remains grounded by values of humility. When asked what advice he would offer to younger people, he emphasized the importance of staying true to oneself. “Never forget where you come from, what you did to get here, and who helped you along the way,” he said. “Always be yourself. It’s good to be famous, but why change who you are?” Conclusion: Bridging Tradition and Modernity Nguyễn Manh Lan embodies a compelling fusion of traditional Vietnamese values—resilience, humility, and community—with modern qualities of individuality and creativity. His journey exemplifies the enduring strength of Vietnam’s cultural heritage and its dynamic evolution, redefining the new face of masculinity. As he continues to inspire with his resolute dedication to social causes, mental health advocacy, and personal growth, Nguyen emerges as an emblem of progress—a young man who bridges tradition and modernity while reshaping masculinity within the realms of pageantry, modeling, and the film industry. 1/4 Images provided by: Nguyễn Manh Lan

For inquiries and interest in having you work featured in our publication, please send us a message and we will promptly respond to you. Fluid Gold Journal is a publication of Mula Projec t which is fiscally sponsored by the New York Foundation of the Arts . Location: New York, NY USA Email: info@fluidgoldjournal.com Contact Us First name Last name Email Write a message Submit Thanks for submitting! DONATE Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy link

Fluid Gold Journal is an online journal publication, featuring dynamic substance and engaging lives from Filipinos and Asian communities across the globe. Update in progress...we will be back soon

Charlie Le Grice A Multifaceted Storyteller: Charlie Le Grice’s Journey of Self-Discovery In Māori legend, the story of pounamu’s origin is steeped in a tale of love and pursuit. It centers on Poutini, a taniwha (water spirit), who encountered the beautiful Waitaiki bathing in the Bay of Plenty. Captivated by her beauty, Poutini abducted her and fled south. Waitaiki’s husband, Chief Tamaahua, soon discovered her disappearance and embarked on a determined chase. As they journeyed, Poutini lit fires to keep Waitaiki warm, leaving behind precious stones in the ashes. When they reached the West Coast of the South Island and Poutini realized he couldn’t escape Tamaahua, he made a final choice. To keep Waitaiki forever, he transformed her into pounamu and placed her in the Arahura River. Upon catching up and finding his wife turned to stone, Tamaahua’s sorrowful cry is said to still echo through the mountains to this day. (Ref: www.ngaitahupounamu.com ) The Significance of Self-Discovery The journey of self-discovery is as profound as it is personal, a weight that only the individual can measure. For some, this path is illuminated by the rich mosaic of family history and cultural traditions passed down through generations—a privilege that anchors their identity. For others, that connection may have been severed long before their birth, leaving them to navigate a void where roots should grow. Yet, the decision to seek out and understand one’s heritage, even in the face of uncertainty and obscurity, is a courageous act. Charlie Le Grice, a member of the Ngāti Whātua, Ōrākei tribe, a Māori tribe from New Zealand, exemplifies this courage by exploring her ancestral traditions and stories, confronting the fractures of history to understand a deeper sense of her family. Ngāti Whātua: A Tribe’s Historical and Cultural Impact Ngāti Whātua’s influence on Auckland’s history and culture is profound. In the mid-18th century, under Tūperiri’s leadership, they established dominance over the region through warfare and strategic alliances, embodying ahi kā, or “keeping the home fires burning.” However, as Le Grice highlights, “in truth, we should be honoring his mother Toukararai; the mana of Toukararai was the ancient mana of the land” (a quote from the 1912 land dispute amongst our hapū). Historical agreements recognized Tūperiri and his sister Tahatahi as equals in ownership, but British systems allowed male leaders, such as Apihai Te Kawau, to sideline female leadership. While Apihai sought British support to counter trading rivals, he never welcomed the establishment of Auckland as a colonial capital. The Māori version of the Treaty of Waitangi agreed to shared land use and British self-governance, whereas the English version claimed sovereignty—leaving Aotearoa as unceded territory. Early Life and Family Background Charlie Le Grice, a multidisciplinary professional, traces her origins to Auckland, New Zealand, where she was raised by her single mother. Her parents’ unique story began in New York City in 1983, when they met by chance on a subway. “My mother was visiting and teaching at a performing arts camp upstate,” Le Grice recalled. Her father, a professional in the technology sector who worked with major companies like Microsoft, stayed in the United States while her mother returned to New Zealand. Reflecting on the complexities of her early life, Le Grice shared, “It’s a bit of a blur as to whether she knew she was pregnant or realized later and decided to go home.” Her parents reunited briefly during her childhood, living together in New York for a time. In the late 1980s, her father spent a period in New Zealand before ultimately passing away in 2021. Reconnecting with Māori Traditions At the early age of 10, Charlie Le Grice frequently moved across Auckland, its outskirts, and even other countries with her mother, attending multiple schools due to their transient lifestyle. Reflecting on this period, Le Grice noted, “We did move around Auckland (and other countries) a lot from birth till around 10 or 11 when we settled down a bit in Sydney.” She described her connection to Māori traditions as complex. “There is the tradition of our ancestors, but then there are the traditions of the ancestors I know, like my grandparents. There is a newer dimension,” she said. One of her earliest cultural memories comes from her first school in the 1990s, during the reparations period for her tribe in New Zealand. The school, located on a hillside in Ōrākei, allowed her to learn Māori songs, dances, and counting alongside her biological cousin. “There was more interaction with the community,” Le Grice said, referring to her time on tribal land. “The traditions were lost for our parents, and it is just now that the traditions are back.” Her mother, who was adopted and later reconnected with her tribe, was raised by her adoptive mother—the love of her life—who always supported her in seeking out her Māori family and encouraged her to build a connection with Makawe. Le Grice recalls meeting her biological grandmother, Makawe, whose name means “the woman with the beautiful hair” in Māori. “The only story I have of her is in the context of all the men who were around her,” Le Grice said. Makawe, a descendant of chiefs, experienced significant losses, including the separation from her children. “As I get older, I see and understand the challenges, but as a child, I felt like my mother was disregarded. I believed it but not in my heart,” she added. Ngāti Whātua’s Pre-Colonial and Colonial History Le Grice’s tribe, Ngāti Whātua, was involved in trade before British colonization in 1840 due to their location near a main port. “During the 16th and 17th centuries, we were already trading fish, bone weapons, flax, and baskets,” she explained. “We were already trading with Europeans like the Dutch and the French. The French started setting up homes in our city, and we asked the British to help.” She noted that early contact with Europeans led to intermarriages and changes within the tribe, which some view as making them less traditional. However, the tribe also led resistance movements due to their interactions with Europeans. Māori’s Spriritual Beliefs and Cultural Practice “We believe that we are one with the sky and the water,” Le Grice said of her people’s spiritual beliefs. “As much as we do believe in sky and water, our core beliefs are embedded in Tangata Whenua and Tangata Moana —our connection to and responsibility for the land and sea of Aotearoa.” Introducing oneself in Māori tradition includes statements such as, “I am of this mountain, I am of this water, I came in this ship (waka ), I came from this tribe (hapū ).” She added that this connection to the environment and community is something she is actively working to reclaim. Acting career: Passion and Challenges Looking back on her acting career, Le Grice reflects on a lifelong passion shaped by early constraints. “Acting was something I had always wanted to do,” she shared, “but my mother simply couldn’t afford it.” As an only child, she turned solitude into opportunity, reciting Shakespeare and performing solo. “I had to play all the characters because I had no siblings,” she humorously recalled. Her dedication led her to a performing arts school in Australia, where she pursued her dream, becoming a professional actor at 24. However, the challenges she faced within the industry ultimately led her to retire in 2021. Le Grice spoke candidly about the limitations imposed by casting stereotypes. “The Black woman stereotype, or the mixed woman stereotype—those were the roles I would get,” she explained. “I don’t come off as a Black woman, and my voice doesn’t sound like one. Casting directors don’t want to have to think about you. They want to see exactly what they’re familiar with. And they put you in a box—an ‘ethnically ambiguous’ box.” While she was often cast as a strong, mysterious figure—what she described as a James Bond archetype—she longed for roles that would allow her to explore other dimensions of her talent. “For so many roles, they just wanted me to be Black,” she said. “Why can’t I do romantic comedies or Shakespeare?” While she achieved significant milestones as an actor, the constraints of typecasting made it difficult to fully pursue the diverse range of stories she wished to tell, leading her to leave the field. “I am a strong woman in life but I was not a strong woman as an artist. I always succumb to the artist they want you to be,” Le Grice added. Memorable Acting Experience: Girls of Summer When asked about the most memorable experience of her acting career, Le Grice recalled her role in the play Girls of Summer , performed at Cheyney University. The play, a fictionalized account inspired by the true story of the first all-female Black baseball team in Chicago, was set during a time of racial tension and mysterious disappearances of women. Le Grice did not audition for the role—instead, the director offered it to her after the original actress dropped out of the production. She had previously auditioned for him for another role, Cleopatra. The experience was a deeply emotional turning point in her career. “I became emotional after the play,” she shared, reflecting on how the performance resonated with her own journey and history. The production, which blended comedy and drama, explored themes of identity, race, and gender—issues Le Grice had never before engaged with in such a personal way. “The practice required by acting allowed me to arrive at certain feelings and learn how to handle those feelings with somebody else,” she explained. “When you are working with a partner, you have to trust them with your emotions and let them carry the story. You are giving up control, and it also allows you to understand yourself better.” For Le Grice, it is important to be able to pull out of a feeling induced by the character while acting. Her conservatory training had taught her this balance. She recalled her teacher’s advice: “You should go into this with the curiosity of a child, but not a disturbed child.” Venturing into Real Estate In addition to her acting career, Le Grice ventured into the real estate market, particularly in Brooklyn, NY, a place that holds personal significance for her. Her father and paternal grandmother had lived in Brooklyn before her grandmother moved from Alabama, giving Le Grice a deep, emotional connection to the area. “I became a realtor because I wanted to be able to fund my own films, and I wanted to make this social justice documentary. I write films all the time. I really wanted to make these films on my own terms,” she explained. Real estate provided financial stability during the off-seasons of acting, allowing her to maintain a steady income while pursuing her creative passions. Le Grice made a conscious effort to separate her acting career from her real estate work, aiming to establish herself as a professional in both fields on her own terms. However, there were moments when clients would recognize her from commercials, and these encounters sometimes worked in her favor, while at other times, they led to doubts about her professionalism. “Sometimes it was a reason for clients to think I wasn’t serious about real estate or capable in this field,” she shared. “Other times, it became a reason for them to want to work with me.” Despite the mixed reactions, Le Grice focused on building her reputation as a trusted professional, finding great fulfillment in nurturing relationships within the community. Her acting training also proved to be an asset in her real estate work, allowing her to transition seamlessly into the professional character required for the role of a realtor. The skills she developed as an actor—such as adaptability, communication, and the ability to read and respond to people’s emotions—helped her connect with clients and navigate complex situations. At 19, she had worked in commercial art sales for interior design, where she refined her understanding of people’s psychology and motivations. This early experience, combined with her acting background, allowed her to excel in real estate. Though real estate was never her primary ambition, it became a reliable safety net, enabling her to pursue her creative goals with greater freedom. Current Work at Human Rights First At Human Rights First, Le Grice is responsible for development, which includes grant writing comparable to branding in a company, a position that requires storytelling, staying current with the philanthropic climate, and understanding how people see human rights. Embracing Māori Identity and Advocacy Reconnecting with her Māori culture—something she once distanced herself from due to feelings of stigma and shame—has re-established a foundation of strength and commitment for her. This renewed connection has allowed her to define her boundaries, clearly identifying what she stands for and what she will no longer tolerate. In her experience, people in New York have been increasingly receptive to her Māori heritage, much like their growing recognition of other Indigenous cultures in the Pacific. She sees this openness as a gateway for fostering awareness and understanding of the first peoples of New York, which has become central to her work. “I feel like all of my leverage, identifying as a Māori woman and a woman of color, is who I am, and I am going to tell you,” she declared. Initially, this sense of leverage felt uncomfortable, as though she were exploiting her identity, but she came to recognize it as a source of strength. The Māori Nation Welfare League, known in Māori as Te Rōpū Wāhine Māori Toko i te Ora, is a national charitable organization established in 1951 in New Zealand, dedicated to improving the well-being of Māori women and their families. However, challenges remain, as Māori women are disproportionately represented in prisons and often lack adequate access to healthcare, contrary to common perceptions about healthcare accessibility in New Zealand. During a visit to New York, the League crossed paths with Le Grice. She joined them for tea, where they spoke the Māori language and shared songs, helping Le Grice reconnect with cultural elements from her early life in New Zealand. This encounter held deeper meaning for Le Grice. As one of the women pointed out, advocating for their people is not a choice but a necessity, as they lack a platform. For Le Grice, the experience became a way for her ancestors to speak to her through the Māori women, affirming her role as an advocate. “Our ancestors are loud,” she asserted, framing the moment as both a reminder and a call to action rooted in cultural and ancestral connection. The Significance of Pounamu She wears a jade necklace called pounamu, traditionally given to children at birth. Her necklace, however, was a gift from her cousin. After her mother left the tribal community with a young Le Grice and lost contact for years, her cousin visited the U.S. in 2017, reconnected with her, and brought the pounamu from their homeland. This profound reunion is symbolized by the pounamu she now wears. “I feel very connected with my stone,” she reflects. Earlier this year, a women’s tribe visited and shared that pounamu is often gifted to someone who offers help or support, making it a meaningful reminder of her own work and advocacies. Conclusion: Bridging Tradition and Modernity Charlie Le Grice’s journey as a multifaceted storyteller is deeply connected to the symbolism of the pounamu in Māori culture, with her love and pursuit reflecting the courage to reconnect with her roots. Her path of self-discovery embodies the enduring strength and resilience of ancestral traditions, embracing transformation while remaining firmly anchored to the land. Like the pounamu, shaped by time yet unyielding, Le Grice’s commitment to honoring her Māori heritage mirrors the love and pursuit of the pounamu’s legacy—an unyielding pursuit of connection to what is sacred and lasting. Her advocacy extends beyond her own heritage, empowering marginalized voices within various Indigenous communities. Through her work, she demonstrates how the principles of love and pursuit, deeply ingrained in the legend of the pounamu, continue to guide her in bringing ancestral wisdom into modern life, ensuring its relevance and impact for future generations. 1/3 Images provided by: Charlie Le Grice

Biligt Enkhtaivan Biligt, Enkhtaivan, 'Father sky Mother Earth', fragment, linocut print on paper, 2025.jpg Biligt, Us, 154.4x253.8cm, linocut prints collage, 2023.jpg Biligt Enkhtavian.jpeg Biligt, Enkhtaivan, 'Father sky Mother Earth', fragment, linocut print on paper, 2025.jpg 1/4 Images provided by Biligt Enkhtaivan ARTIST STATEMENT My work explores existential questions—life, death, time, truth—through a personal visual language rooted in printmaking and mixed media. I developed a unique technique that blends traditional printmaking with other materials, allowing me to express complex inner emotions and impressions. Deeply inspired by Mongolian philosophy and our reverence for the Eternal Blue Sky, my art reflects a worldview in which all beings—humans, animals, nature—are part of one interconnected universe. Through my work, I aim to remind us of our place as guests on this earth, and the importance of living in harmony with nature. BIOGRAPHY Biligt Enkhtaivan (b. 1988, Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia) is a multidisciplinary Mongolian artist and architect whose work explores identity, nature, and human connection through printmaking and contemporary visual media. She began her formal art education studying printmaking at the Arts and Culture University of Mongolia (2005–2006), and later graduated as an architectural designer from the Central Academy of Fine Arts in Beijing, China (2007–2013). Biligt has presented numerous solo exhibitions both in Mongolia and internationally, including Eternal Blue Sky (2024, Thinking Box Gallery, Gwangju, Korea), Steppe Full of People (2023, Khan Gallery, Ulaanbaatar), Humanoid (2022, Arts Council of Mongolia, Ulaanbaatar), A story of us (2019, Union of Mongolian Artists exhibition hall, Ulaanbaatar) and Children of Eden (2019, Mongolian National Art Gallery). Her work has been showcased in major group exhibitions such as the Ulaanbaatar Biennale (2025), Nord Art in Germany (2024), ARA International Contemporary Art Festival (2024, Mongolia) and Art week-2023 (Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia). A recipient of multiple awards, Biligt was awarded “Best Artwork” at the 2024 ARA Festival and Best Printmaking Artwork at the 2024 Independence Exhibition in Ulaanbaatar. Her work has been featured across exhibitions and art events in Mongolia, South Korea, Japan, China, Taiwan, Thailand, Vietnam, Italy, Germany, and the United States, contributing to a growing international presence.

James Ramsey Building a Future through Symbiotic Opposition: James Ramsey's Lowline and the Harmony of Urban Nature Architecture thrives with symbiotic opposition, and New York City exemplifies this dynamic contrast, balancing innovation with preservation, and nature with urbanity. As the city that never sleeps, it continuously evolves to confront challenges such as urban density, climate change, and sustainability, all while maintaining its historical and cultural identity. At the forefront of this evolution is James Ramsey, an architect, inventor, and founder of RAAD Studio. His visionary Lowline project—an underground park currently in development—reimagines the potential of subterranean spaces and addresses urban sustainability in unprecedented ways. Vision and Innovative Approach Unlike other urban projects that merely adapt existing frameworks, Ramsey's approach is distinctly innovative. He perceives the Lowline not just as a park but as an urban archaeology initiative that invites exploration and discovery. This perspective sets Ramsey apart from his contemporaries, as he integrates elements of history and technology to create a space that fosters community engagement and environmental awareness. His work resonates with global urban innovation trends yet remains unique in its execution and philosophy. The Lowline stands as a reflection of his commitment to transforming neglected spaces into vibrant public realms, challenging the status quo of urban design and inspiring future generations of architects to think beyond conventional boundaries. Born in New York City to Korean and American parents, James Ramsey, a Yale University alumnus and avid origami enthusiast, recalls his first profound architectural experience during his youth while visiting relatives in France. "A little 12-year-old me walked into a cathedral, and I was just blown away by the power of that space," Ramsey shared. Immersing himself in the intricacies of Gothic architecture, he became fascinated by how structures built with heavy stone, adorned with extravagant buttresses and columns, could evoke a sense of lightness. "It just gave me such a profound shift in perspective—that is something I brought with me for years," he added. Journey Through NASA Ramsey began his NASA career at the remarkable age of 19, taking on a pivotal role in the Pluto Fast Flyby project and contributing to the development of the Cassini mission to study Saturn, which successfully launched in 1997. Reflecting on the trust placed in him, he remarked, "It is kind of startling to me that they would give so much responsibility to someone so inexperienced and young." Despite his youth, Ramsey's brilliance was evident as he developed an infrared spectrometer for the Pluto Fast Flyby mission. "A spectrometer which allows you to see through a piece of optics at the surface of Pluto," he explained. This technology aimed to analyze the planet's surface by identifying its substances and elements. While the Pluto Fast Flyby mission was ultimately shelved, its concept was later revived with newer technology as part of the successful New Horizons spacecraft, which launched in 2006 and reached Pluto in 2015. Reflecting on his early career at NASA, Ramsey remarked, "Combining engineering with craft to create a design effect is something that has pervaded my understanding of architecture," a philosophy that underscores his innovative approach to design. The Lowline Project As the visionary behind the Lowline, James Ramsey has developed innovative "remote skylight" technology that demonstrates how forgotten subterranean spaces can be transformed into vibrant, sustainable environments. This groundbreaking system channels natural sunlight underground to address the loss of above-ground green spaces. It captures sunlight via a rooftop collector, amplifies it with parabolic concentrators, and directs it through fiber optic cables into the underground park. The 2015 Lowline Lab prototype validated the technology's success, enabling over 100 plant species, including edible varieties, to thrive in an underground ecosystem. At its core, the project aims to revitalize the historic Williamsburg Bridge Trolley Terminal—a 60,000-square-foot space abandoned since 1948. Ramsey's vision extends beyond New York City. During the 2017 Seoul Biennale of Architecture and Urbanism, he presented his solo art installation, Invasive Regeneration , which brought light into a dark, abandoned space, demonstrating the emotional resonance of his technology. Reflecting on the experience, Ramsey shared, "It was one of my favorite things that we've ever built." This installation not only underscored the profound relationship between light and space but also stood as a powerful metaphor: bringing light into darkness is not just a physical transformation but a declaration of optimism, a reminder that even in the bleakest moments, renewal and hope can emerge. Highlighting his extensive work in Korea, he noted, "I ended up having a lot of professional connections to Korea and a lot of reasons to travel there for work. And it ended up for me being something that allowed me to reclaim my heritage and connect with it." During these visits, he also cherished the time spent with his late grandmother, describing his connection with her as a profoundly meaningful experience that deepened his ties to his heritage. Invasive Regeneration poetically illustrated Ramsey's unwavering belief in illuminating the darkest corners of urban landscapes, literally and metaphorically, echoing the profound impact he experienced as a child when first stepping into a Gothic cathedral in France, where the interplay of light and space left an indelible mark on his architectural sensibilities. Facing Challenges Despite significant fundraising challenges—"We are in a place where there is a pretty significant fundraising hurdle"—Ramsey remains steadfast in his vision. His persistence in directing light into forgotten spaces reflects a deep-seated grit and belief in the power of innovation to overcome seemingly insurmountable obstacles. Situated in a diverse, immigrant-rich neighborhood on Manhattan's Lower East Side, the Lowline underscores the complexities of urban revitalization, blending innovation with cultural preservation. The Lowline's potential extends beyond mere aesthetics, promising to reshape community interactions and improve mental health by providing much-needed green space in dense urban environments while also addressing issues of environmental justice in underserved neighborhoods. As cities worldwide grapple with increasing population density and diminishing green spaces, projects like the Lowline represent a crucial step towards sustainable urban design, aligning with broader global efforts to create livable cities for the future. The Importance of Craftsmanship While discussing ancient structural innovations in countries like China, Japan, and India, James Ramsey highlighted the enduring importance of craftsmanship in architecture. "There is such a heavy emphasis on craftsmanship—touching material, shaping it, and understanding how it fits together has been a focus of the work that we do in my studio," Ramsey explained. This reflection is particularly relevant today, as many contemporary architectural practices prioritize cost efficiency over the true value of craftsmanship, often favoring mass production over thoughtful design. Ramsey emphasized that understanding localized materials—and how they are thoughtfully assembled—is critical to creating sustainable, durable structures. This approach not only honors the cultural and environmental context but also fosters innovation rooted in tradition. Japan, in particular, holds personal and professional significance for Ramsey; his parents lived there briefly during his infancy, and he has since returned to study its architecture and landscape design. These visits allowed him to immerse himself in traditional wood joinery and engineering techniques, which maximize the potential of native materials by prioritizing how they interlock and function together. Such methods produce structures resilient to extreme climates while embodying timeless craftsmanship. Conclusion: Meaning and Reconnection By reflecting on these traditional practices, Ramsey underscores the importance of reintroducing careful material understanding and assembly into modern architectural practices, ensuring that innovation does not come at the expense of durability or cultural integrity. Reminiscent of Louis Kahn's famous words, "We are born of light. The seasons are felt through light. We only know the world as it is evoked by light," Ramsey's work embodies a philosophy where light not only sustains life but also transforms neglected spaces into symbols of connection and renewal. Amidst the challenges of urban change, Ramsey's design principles and vision offer a path to making a dynamic city like New York more defined, resilient, and attuned to the deeper needs for meaning and reconnection in a rapidly evolving world. 1/3 Images provided by: James Ramsey

Herminio Tan Herminio Tan.jpg Herminio Tan.jpeg Herminio Tan.jpg Herminio Tan.jpg 1/6 Images provided by Herminio Tan Born on Nov 15, 1991, Herminio Tan embarked on his artistic journey in 2013, crafting wearable artworks, usually made of bones and resins, that ignited the fashion industry, art photography, and film. Over the years, his artistic evolution has embraced a diverse range of mediums, including porcelain and Japanese clay, resin, wood, and brass. Herminio's whimsical, experimental, and mythological creations evoke sweet nostalgia, illustrating humanity's profound connection with the inner self, nature and beyond. Specializing in customized works, Herminio Tan tailors his art to individual visions. With a diverse clientele spanning various industries, he remains a dynamic artist, continuously pushing the boundaries of his craft through ever-changing styles and innovative expressions.

Fluid Gold Journal is an online journal publication, featuring dynamic substance and engaging lives from Filipinos and Asian communities across the globe. IN THE SPOTLIGHT Erica Paredes Filipina Parisian Chef Veejay Floresca Trans-woman Couturier Maria Rivera New York Runway Model Jeremy Hu Luxury Real Estate Agent Taipan Lucero Baybayin Calligraphy Artist ART GALLERY View More MUST READ ESSAYS Nihil By: Paolo Coumans This is a student film for my Sci-Fi class, featuring apocalyptic and existential themes. It incorporates the 1962 short film La Jetée’s photo-novel style, which favors still images over motion pictures. Read More UNTOLD SHORT STORIES Rituals on the Ancestral Land BATO, Boracay Ati Tribal Organization | Boracay, Philippines Fluid Gold Journal extends our deep gratitude to the Boracay Ati Tribal Organization (BATO) for granting us permission to share and publish two of their rituals. The following rituals have been translated from the ATI Community local dialect. Our culture in the past was rich in numerous rituals. While we still teach our children about the various types of rituals, the process of performing them is no longer passed down. Due to the influence of Catholicsm and the establishment of the church, it is now rare to find medicine people, healers, or shamans, and many rituals are no longer practiced. A shaman is considered more powerful than a healer. Many of the shamans from earlier times have passed away, and only one healer, Tay Johnny, remains. As a result, we now seek the help of a shaman from a different province and also go to the hospital when we are sick. Despite this, we still believe in the value of our rituals, as they have the power to save lives and cure illnesses that Western medicine cannot. Palubad This ritual is conducted to determine if supernatural entities reside on the land. A hole is dug to plant a coconut seed. After three days, the hole is re-excavated to inspect the seed. If the coconut shakes, it indicates a negative presence on the land. If it remains still, the land is deemed safe for use and settlement. Sanag This ritual is for a newly constructed house. The father of the house or head of the household will conduct the ritual where the house will be built using stone or money. Plant the coins along the perimeter of the house in order to buy the land from supernatural entities. Travel & Lifestyle Diary 1/4 The Miao People in China by: Su Xianshun | China It’s a very traditional Miao village located in Rongshui, Liuzhou, Guangxi, in China. We were attracted by the sign on a house along the way to the top of the mountain. The sign displayed Mandarin characters representing some unknown meaning in the Miao language, which were later explained by the grandson of an old man. The old man, with a distinct Miao appearance, couldn’t understand any Mandarin, nor could we understand Miao. Our interest peaked when the kid told us the sign was about Miao music. They ushered us in, and the old man took his precious 古瓢琴 (ancient gourd lute musical instrument) from the wooden wall as we were viewing the unusually humble house. He carefully cleaned the instrument and tuned it, knowing what we were expecting. It took him quite a while to make it work again. It was completely unexpected when he sang for us in Miao while playing the 古瓢琴(ancient gourd lute musical instrument)! The sound of his voice and the instrument was ancient and touching. For a moment, we were transported on a journey to those fluid golden days that are gone forever. Part of the lyrics means: “We only met because you came here.” Photo and Video Credit: Su Xianshun Lost in Lucious Luxembourg by: Raffid Mahmood | Pakistan When I had first heard of Luxembourg, I didn’t really know what to expect. The only information I had prior to my visit was that there was a lot of French and German influence behind it. However, I was left utterly stunned and enchanted on my first visit to the country. The roads wind and twist around the city and in a car it feels as though you’re on a roller coaster going up and down and all around. The colossal bridges tower above the town and it’s seemingly nestled in between a valley, this makes Luxembourg city feel distinct and unique in the way it almost disconnects you from the hustle and bustle of modern life. I would definitely love to visit again! Photo Credit: Raffid Mahmood HUMOR US SECTION We invite our readers to show us some love and send us some humor to quench our community's thirst for laughter! Send us an email via Contact page and note HUMOR on the subject line.