Conceptual-art-like Hoarding

This is the most (and probably the only, as far as I can remember) interesting hoarding I've seen in Hong Kong.
A lot like a piece of conceptual art.
Drawing attentions from passers-by.
It's a new shop under renovation, near where I work.
Pak Sha Road, Causeway Bay, if you want to pay a visit.
I wonder what kind of shop it is.
I will be really surprised if it sells fans.

The Emperor Qianlong's Review of the Grand Parade of Troops

Another week of heavy workload.
Thank goodness we got a Chung Yeung Festival day off.
I went to the Sotheby's auction show held in Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre.
I planned to see the Contemporary Chinese Art session which was closed.
Instead there were some masterpieces of Chinese ceramics and works of art on show titled "Legacies of Imperial Power".
I was captivated by one piece – the Dayue tu (大閱圖), Emperor Qianlong's Review of the Grand Parade of Troops.

15 meters long. Meticulously painted.
It depict the emperor reviewing his troops which consists of astounding numbers of soldier on horseback – 16,000, I was told. (Save your trouble, you'll never be able to count.)
No larger than thumb size, one by one in formation, like duplications you can do on computer today. (Each is unique on close examination.)
No Western perspective representation here.
That somehow makes it look surprisingly modern.
It was sold for 67,860,000 HKD, around 8.7 million USD.
15 percent less than expected.
Blame the financial crisis, Sotheby's.
Or should I say the Émile Guimet family – former owner now.
How was such remarkable national treasure in the hands of a French collector?
Well, legal robbery.
By the French army officials in 1900 when the Eight-Nation Alliance occupied Beijing.
The French was controlling the Shouhuang Hall on Mt. Jing.
You can guess what was in there.

Giorgio Morandi Revisit

Recently, I found that this blog got a lot of traffics coming from Google image search, and they all directed to my older post on Giorgio Morandi.
For some mysterious reasons, my own painting "unofficially" became a Morandi painting on the Google image search. (It's on the third page, not bad uh?)
It's quite gratifying.
Apparently, some people was looking for a Morandi painting and saw mine.
"Toilet rolls by Morandi?"
"That's unheard of."
Click.

About this WWW, I observed:
1. By just a fraction of uniqueness, image generates more clicks and traffics than word.
2. You don't need to find the audience, the audience will find you.
3. The rest is a mystery.

Rocky Took a Lover

He said 'I wanna shine in the eye of Orion
But I drove my soul through the Black Hole!'
She said 'What a wonderful way to wake me
You weren't so nice last night
You're such an asshole when you're drunk'
He said 'At least I'm OK in the mornings'

He said 'The three wise men came a long way
Following that pin hole in the sky
Yeah that one right there'
She said 'I don't believe in any old Jesus
If there was a God, then why is my arse
The perfect height of kicking?'

He said 'I'll shine for you, I'll burn for you
Yea I'll shine for you, that's what I'll do'

He said 'They're like headlights
In the rear view mirror
They're closer than they seem
And from this gutter we're still staring at the stars'
She said 'Would ya go away and shite
Last night all you did was curse those stars
You said they sang to you of hope'

He said 'The sun gives life, and it takes it away
But like all the greats, it'll burn out someday'
She said 'I don't mind, I don't want to get bored
I don't want to end up beached on this shore
I want to be that star'

And then I'll shine for you. Then I'll burn for you.
Then I can shine for you. That's what I'll do

My all time favourite song. Just never get tired of hearing it.

Ingeniously written, both musically, lyrically. Every line spills out wit and poetry.

Casual teasing between lovers reached up to heavens. The stars smile and were moved.

Check out this Irish band – Bell X1. Not a household name, formerly known as Juniper before the departure of lead singer Damien Rice, whom you may know better.

Yea, why my arse the perfect height of kicking? ...There must be a God.

Perfection. Perfection. Perfection.

Found at home this forsaken knitting manual. It's a very very old book, probably published in the '70s.

The cover picture made me stop and look. Besides its odd and funny styling, something was not quite right here. The guy on the left half-opening his eyes. The guy on the right looks bored by the photo shoot.

Happening today? Head transplant operation straight away, digitally.

An art director myself, I know nothing gets published until every detail was retouched to an immaculate state of perfection.

By the vehicles of the media, the most influential force on human's perception and psychology of beauty may well be... Photoshop.

This award-winning Dove TVC makes my point.



It's been 2 years old, you should have seen it. If not, share it with your girlfriend.

It might challenge her obsession on her own looks.

I suspect more likely, she'll ask you to start learning Photoshop.

Our Sixth Sense - Humor

It's a timely reminder in these few hectic weeks. Thank you, it's very comforting.

Sending e-card these days is like telling your buddies you're still a big fan of Backstreet Boys. Not a very cool thing to do. Yet I found this atypical e-card site – Someecard, which is worth our reconsideration. No cliché sentimentality, but healthy banters, plain sarcasm, and something slightly over the top to someone's taste.

Still not fancy sending? At least you can copy a few satirical remarks that might come in handy.

For example, "Congratulations on having just enough Facebook friends to appear popular, but not needy."

Mark Twain said, "Humor is mankind's greatest blessing."

For the sake of yourselves and all fellow human beings, acquire the skill.

On my way to Lithuania

Because of the Olympics, my colleague Mike asked me what's the English name of Lithuania (He learned it's Chinese name – 立陶宛). I forgot the exact spelling, just remembered it's somewhere between the Eastern Europe and Russia as she's part of the former Soviet Union. I looked it up on the Google map.


It's a clear day. The sun was setting. As I flew across a vast field on the south of Ukraine, a strangely looking house appeared under the clouds. It's like a fairy floating dwelling in one of those Hayao Miyazaki (宮崎 駿) films. I couldn't help but to stop and find out. I asked the locals what it really was and why it was biult in such a way. Well... all answered back in Russian (I took two pictures though). That really didn't matter. Facts are not important in a dream. And we are in a dream land.
The great thing is you might visit there in reality one day, you never know.

In Thankful Memory...

It's been a terrible week, to say the least. My cat died last Sunday. We had to do the painful decision to let him go. His kidney had lost all its function and his condition worsened. It's been an emotional roller coaster. I've never imagined the loss of a beloved pet would induce such deep pain.

It took me awhile to let the feeling sink before writing about this.

Humans seem to go quiet when they grieve.

But, grief is a place we should never dwell in for too long. Staying there, even time is powerless to heal.

Dose with tears and thankfulness. And move on.

The Taming of the Fox

"No," said the little prince. "I am looking for friends. What does that mean--'tame'?"
"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. "It means to establish ties."
"'To establish ties'?"
"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..."

. . .

"My life is very monotonous," the fox said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat . . ."
The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.

. . .

So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near--
"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."
"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"Then it has done you no good at all!"
"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields." And then he added:
"Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret."

– An extract from The Little Prince


It's more than 9 years ago, my wife brought home a white tabby kitten, rough and feeble. We fed him, washed him. We took him in out of intuitive affection, not knowing how exceeding joy he could bring us. Many sweet anecdotes, few scratches and "love bites" sandwiched between.

He's the smartest cat in the world (comparing to my other one, at least). He talks (he knows when my wife is on the phone and "meow" for it). He has his own little tricks to open door (even sliding door), pick the best part of the food, do his pee and poo nicely, avoid the medicine...

He's no longer just like a hundred thousand other cats. He is unique in all the world to me.

He was diagnosed with renal failure after an usual check-up. We were heartbroken. For the past months, we've been taking him in and out of the vet numerous times. We never thought that a sick animal could bring such a heavy feeling – this magnitude of sorrow when seeing him weakening and...

If he said "I never wished you any harm; but you wanted to tame me..."

I would answer, "Yes, that is so. But it has also done me good. When the sun shines on the whiteness of my apartment walls, it will bring back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the sound of every 'meow'."

Someone told me, "Don't love if you don't want to get hurt."


"Goodbye," said the fox. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."
"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.
"It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important."
"It is the time I have wasted for my rose--" said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.
"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose..."


Who's my rose? Who's yours?

Things I learnt from Travis gig

1. If you want to sound friendly and honest, speak with Scottish accent.

I love the funny sound of Scottish accent. Very down-to-earth. That's also my overall impression of Travis. ("We arrre from Scotland nee England", as Fran had to stress that during the show.) Polls reveal that people believe those with Scottish accents are more trustworthy and honest. Language reflects culture. Maybe they really are, generally.

One thing bothers me though, why when people sing, accent disappears?



2. Music connects us, emotionally.

I am reading two books at the moment – This is Your Brain on Music and Social Intelligence. Found an interesting correlation. A part of our brain called amygdala which is long considered the seat of our emotion is responsible for both our musical enjoyment and social interaction.

That may explain why music moves our emotion so much and we feel "one" with the band and audience when we are listening it live.

In the middle of the show, Fran did an unusual thing. He said, "it's funny that all you guys, total strangers, come together, standing and touching each other, all because of this same love for a band. That's actually quite amazing. Let's do a social experiment. Turn your face to the people around you and say 'Hi' to each other."...Oh, that's when the embarrassment came in. Our rational side took control. Most people reluctantly did as told...mostly to their own friends.



3. If you are really passionate about something, you'll be creative about it.

Their last song of the show was one of their best hit – Why Does It Always Rain on Me. As soon as the music started, two umbrellas were raised above a sea of heads at the very front row. (see one in the middle of the picture?) It surprised everyone including Fran, who couldn't help but smiled at them. That day was a fine day without rain. Some die-hard fans must have prearranged it. It's a small gesture but made a big impression on me.

Nobody is not creative. Just too many lukewarm souls.