Nanjing’s Bullet Train Station, May 15, 2013 Life always has its own way of sorting you out. For a rather non-artistic person as myself who used to think of a horse yet painted out what my friends refer to as “some kind of carrot or sweet potato”, of all the people on earth I had to meet my Lingnan master at an art exhibition and has followed him ever since. One could consider this a new journey in life where the 50% passive Chinese blood suddenly seems to take over. The more I learn about ancient Chinese history, culture, and arts, the more I feel belonging to this glorious land of ancient civilization. The most startling thing, however, as I travel across the homeland of my beloved mother, is the feeling of being left out, like an outsider standing on the roadside watching millions of people rush by, not one sharing any interest in my passion and love for this country’s history, culture and arts. Conversations are built around brands, wealth, oportunities, and relationships, the kind that could take you somewhere in your fight for a better material life. Stuff like calligraphy, Chinese arts, history and culture get you nowhere, thus putting people off just by mentioning the topics. Though the passion only gets stronger every day, I almost give up my hope on sharing my interests with a China friend in my so-called a normal conversation…. After all, I know I am abnormal in the land of money and power. Taking the bullet train from Nanjing to Hangzhou today, I get to spend more time chatting with Morrison who keeps me accompanied as we go from one province to another in search for business partners. Why a Chinese calls himself Morrison I really have no idea, but after coming across names such as Ferrari, Porsch, or Minnie, Morrison does not sound too bad. As the conversation matures, I get all emotional learning that Morrison carries a deep knowledge about Chinese ancient history and culture being a young chap. According to him, ancient knowledge is slowing finding its way back amongst the younger generation in China. Though what he shares need to be further verified, it is to me the best news ever for China. It is probably time for this country to start travelling back to the past in search for their hearts and souls and build a moral foundation for the country’s future. “To put the world in order, we must first put the nation in order; to put the nation in order, we must first put the family in order; to put the family in order; we must first cultivate our personal life; we must first set our hearts right.” ― Confucius It suddenly turns chilly and foggy today with scattered rain as we board the train, but the sun for once rises in my heart…. #calligraphy #nanjing #culture #china #perspective #arts #life

Hangzhou Train Station, May 19, 2013 Having experienced a horrible train ride from Guangzhou to Guangxi before, I vow to stay away from train rides in China as much as I possibly could. But when the best mode of transport from Hangzhou to Shanghai is bullet train which costs you 128 yuan first class in comparison to a hired car for 2.800 yuan, it sounds like a phobia that you just have to fix in this lifetime. OK here we go again. Phi is moving forward to Hangzhou train station. There are always millions of people at any train stations I’ve ever been to in China, be it Guangzhou, Guangxi, Nanjing, Hangzhou or Shanghai. Well, in the land of 1.3 billion, a few million does not count. To get where you want to be, the only way is forward. You may step on a few people on the way, but cruelty is a widely practiced concept of any China survivor. And on I walk, wearing a cruel face, taking the determined steps, keeping hunter’s eyes on the prey – gate 8 towards Shanghai. People stand, sit, lie down, walk, run, carrying all sizes and shapes of bags in hundreds of colors. Some people talk, most shout and yell on their phones, to one another, and to whoever else they need to communicate with. Shouting is Chinese for communication. It does not necessarily depict any evil intention. It’s just the Chinese way of making sure they get their ideas across. But I have a train to catch and to get there, I force myself to practice see no evil, hear no evil, and speak no evil. In actual fact, I would keep my mouth shut so that no one knows I am a foreigner. That alone could save me from a lot of trouble. Level 1 of the fighting game, I got through the security checkpoint and then the screening device without any problem. Level 2, I found gate 8. There are 3 look-alike queues in front of the gate, so I stand in one of those. People are all over the place. What are they standing around for? OK, I need to stay focused. See no evil! As I check my ticket for cabin and seat number, people start jumping the line. Out of nowhere, youngs and olds, males and females, good-lookings and messy-lookings, they all push in and I find myself getting down the line pretty quickly. Should I say something? Should I shout? Should I knock someone down? Lesson number 4: do no evil! “If what one has to say is not better than silence, then one should keep silent”‘ said Confucius once. It does at least keep me out of trouble today. The heat and the stink of human sweat fill the place. One could stir a war here just by stepping on somebody’s toe. It’s getting unbearable…. Level 3, this is the make it or break it. 2:45PM, 15 minutes before the train leaves the platform, the gate is opened. The sea of people turns into a tsunami. No queues does matter any more. On they march with the sole purpose of getting on that train. The train will wait for no one. If you miss it, you miss it. No one cares. No excuses. No explanation. No complaints to lodge. It strikes me once and again how priviledged I have been even in the little things I have taken for granted living in the West. All people have on this land is a dream for the future. The past is insignificant. The present is forgetable. There seems to be no other way out apart from marching forward, at all costs. People push people forward and I am therefore pushed forward. You know it when you are there at the ticket control gate. All I see is people. The concept of personal space is something unheard of. And itdefinitely is a huge disadvantage when you are tiny. Keeping people from stepping on you undoubtedly is the noble task. It’s like meditation in a way. Your mind resides on one thing and one thing only, getting through that bloody gate! Phew! I finally get through. Level 5 of the fighting game, now comes the long staircase. It has 3 levels and obviously there is no other way but walking down the steps with my 20kg piece of luggage and a hand-carry bag. No one cares. Everyone for themselves. Everyone has a train to catch. People rush down the steps, leaving me and my personal struggle to drag down the luggage un-noticed. Cabin 5 it is when I reach the train. Looking at the ticket, mine is cabin 16 which is at the very top of the train. Shouldn’t that be cabin 1? Any way, I have 5 minutes left to get on the train. Man, this is just like Amazing Race China. I finally get on, just in time as the train moves away from the platform. If someone needs to have a crash course on China, I would recommend the dramatic last 15 minutes before a train ride. Forget the thick books with lots of data analysis. It all happens out here amidst the heat, the stink and the sweat…. The train ride is quite smooth. Nothing much too see but some funny looking rows of identical town houses and apartment blocks that probably house millions of Chinese future time-travellers. The guy sitting next to me must wonder by the look on his face why I carry a smile on my face…. An hour goes by quickly. An announcement is broadcasted as we approach Shanghai. “Thank you for your understanding and support”. Sure, I understand! Level 6, getting off the train. As the train pulls over, down pour waves of people. I step aside to wait. I am already in Shanghai and I have some time to kill on a Sunday. May people stay safe rushing down the staircase. Not long afterwards, the platform turns desserted. Jeez, the Chinese never waste a second in their life. I now have the whole platform for myself. I can now take my walking meditation steps down the escalator. No drama. There are 2 taxi gates, one north and one south. The north gate is right there on my right as I get off the escalator. Knowing the Chinese who would take the best shortcut to heaven, I convince myself to take the South gate. It’s a bit of a walk but maybe I can stay away from the crowd. As I get out of the station and reach the taxi stand, I find myself stupid to even think there would be less people on the South side. There is never less people anywhere in China. I am right at the pick-up point and there is a long queue going for it. That’s OK. “Let’s find the end of the queue” I tell myself. And down I walk in search for that end, sporadically looking at the faces of the people who are already in the queue. What do I see? Worry, uncertainty, and lost. It’s a long way to the top! I find the end of the queue when I almost lose hope. There must be 9999 people in the line. There are 2 long hand rails with a single person space in between to keep people in line but it does take a while for you to reach them. I figure that I’ve never been that thrilled in life standing in between the rails. For the first time in China, I can define my own space. It is definitely mine. Just when the thought becomes comforting, the lady behind pushes her bag forward and it hits me hard on the back. I turn my around and give her a Kungfu Panda look. As my eyes hit hers, she looks away, pretending nothing ever happens. See no evil! I finally get on a taxi heading to a hotel in Pudong, feeling left behind in this China’s forward march every where I go. A smile is on my face as I remember some funny verses shared by a local friend. The Young and Brave, march forward! The Young and Brave, march forward to the front! But Sir, the front line does not know where they are going… No drama, kid! Wherever we go, we are still marching forward! #shanghai #china #travel #perspective #journey #hangzhou #life #train

Ghost Gallery It was a burning hot afternoon when my little brother Patrick and I took on the mission to find Melaka Art Gallery where there are supposed to be 150 excellent paintings of all ages. It shows on the tourist map that the gallery is only a stone’s throw away from Xavier church. Under the brutal sunlight of Melaka, we walk, bare-headed. The further we walk, the more desserted it becomes. “That does not feel right”, I told Patrick. “We either took the wrong turn or art is dead in this quaint little town”. To mark my words, a sign appears in grafitti right before our eyes and it says “Art Gallery”, with a little crooked arrow pointing upwards. We both stop, look up and stand there motionless for a while. It’s a long, lonely, narrow stairway leading up to no where. And so up we walk, without a distant idea of what we may find. There is a weather-beaten, moss-covered wall on the right and to the left a few miserable looking old tombs. As we walk along the stairway up onto the un-known, the picture paints an eery, trapped, and vulnerable atmosphere to the place. We stood right there at the entrance where it says “Art Gallery” in grafitti, No one is around. Lying carelessly are bags of garbage, a few damaged chairs and piles of dead leaves. Dust of memories calls it home. Lime-light of the bygone can hardly be seen. Nothing is permanent in this world. As we walk down the stairway back to the un-known, a few words come to my mind: I walk the endless road To look for nowhere And so the shadows found Up along the stairs… #art #melaka #mallaca #gallery #perspective

Tokyo, May 10, 2013 Even though the digital age has hit us hard in the last few years and even though I have been trying my best to keep up with technology, there is something about bookstores that’s just addictive to me. I can spend hours browsing around in a bookstore and to me that’s probably the most fulfilling me-time ever. And so I struggle in countries where bookstores are nowhere to be found such as China. Guess what? I feel completely at home in Tokyo. Tokyo is not short of giant bookstores like Kinokuniya but what makes me fall in love with this city are the quaint little bookstores which can be found on every street corner, especially at high traffic areas to and from the subways. Call me old-fashioned. I love the feeling of flipping the paper pages. And I still carry a small paper notebook and a pen around to take notes of the interesting observations, thoughts, ideas, concepts I come across every day in life. In some places, people think you’ve just come out of the Stone Age. Yet in Tokyo, it’s like coming home. People carry their books around. People get into meetings with paper notes and pens. No phones, no tablets, no digital gadgets on the meeting tables, and no checking your smart screens every 5 seconds. What’s better than having your true presence for someone just for one moment? When you are there, that moment is eternity…. #perspective #mindfulness #Tokyo #life #digitalage #bookstore

Có những hạt giống chẳng hiểu do ai gieo từ bao nhiêu đời trước, cứ một mực nhẫn nại nằm yên trong lòng đất lạnh. Rồi một đêm xuân nọ, khi cả năm thành tố cơ bản của vũ trụ tình cờ hội ngộ tại một ngã rẽ định mệnh, trong một phút ngẫu hứng đã vẽ nên một bức tranh ân ái, lãng mạn và hoàn mỹ. Đêm nay, trong cái ánh sáng lung linh của một đêm xuân lạ thường, sợi tơ mong manh giữa sống và chết, yêu và ghét, bình yên và giông tố, hạnh phúc và đau khổ trong một phút nhẹ dạ bỗng trở nên hết sức nhập nhòe. Đêm nay, tinh túy của trời đất vội vã tìm nhau trong một bản giao hưởng ánh trăng, và hạt giống đã rung rẩy nảy mầm. Nó nhẹ nhàng len lỏi qua từng xớ đất khô cằn rồi len lén thẹn thùng chạm nhẹ vào cái không khí bàng bạc của đêm xuân. Hạnh phúc – bao năm gieo mình trong lòng đất lạnh chỉ để vỡ òa trong cái hạnh phúc ngắn ngủi này. Trớ trêu thay, chẳng có cái gì trong cái vũ trụ bao la này là trường tồn cả. Hạnh phúc cũng chỉ là những đoản khúc rộn ràng nhưng ngắn ngủi. Nó vụt qua rồi chỉ để lại một cái bóng đổ dài trong hành trình vào vô tận. Đêm đã sâu. Tia sáng cuối cùng của đêm trăng rồi cũng như bị ai đó nhét vào đốm mây vần vũ. Hạt giống hốt hoảng chơi vơi tìm kiếm cái tinh túy của tạo hóa đã vỡ vụn giữa đêm xuân. Cứ như thế, nó bước từng bước dài xuyên suốt cả cuộc đời để kiếm tìm. Những nấc thang thời gian vẫn đổ dài vào vô tận. Những hàng mộ lặng câm. Vài chiếc lá vàng vô tình xào xạc rơi vào hư vô. Rồi một buổi sáng tinh mơ khi cuộc đời của hạt giống đã cằn cỗi như cây cổ thụ của thời gian, nó chồn chân, mỏi gối dừng lại bên đường. Bức màn sương của buổi sáng tinh mơ trong suốt, mỏng manh bỗng thảng thốt vỡ tan. “Hãy dừng lại nghỉ ngơi”, có tiếng ai đó khẽ rơi trong gió. “Đường đi tìm hạnh phúc không thẳng về phía trước cũng chẳng ngoằn ngoèo ở phía sau, chẳng cheo leo trên núi cao hay trầm sâu trong lòng đại dương câm lặng, chẳng trong quá khứ, chẳng phải tương lai, mà cũng chẳng e ấp ở một nơi nào đó trong giấc mơ hoàn hảo”. Hạt giống bối rối nhìn quanh. Hình bóng mỹ miều, quý phái của một con chim công trắng muốt thoáng qua rồi chìm vào màn sương man mác. Đâu đó trong bao la vang vang lời ca thánh thiện, “Đường đi tìm hạnh phúc ngược vào trong lòng hạt giống. Hạnh phúc chẳng ở đâu xa để kiếm tìm.” Những tia nắng đầu tiên của buổi sáng vỡ òa vào không gian. Một cành hoa dâm bụt đỏ rực nhịp chân suy tư bên hàng dậu. #bìnhyên #cuộcsống #Hạnhphúc #đaukhổ

Saigon, May 05, 2013 The first time I met him was a few months ago at the Lingnan painting class. Saigon is my refuge after long trips and it is home to my artistic spirit. Mind you! It’s definitely not the most admiring side of me. I would never become an artist, but I am head over heels with the unconditional, un-biased, non-judgemental love our master has for us. It seems natural to him. “No table!” we say it in Vietnamese, meaning “there’s no argument about it”. Silly Vietnamese and our language. Master has done this all his life and he is solely 83 years of age. But this is not about my master. It’s about Chung, a 19-year-old kid (Sometimes I have to pull my wandering self back on track). Chung was sitting by himself, away from the noisy bunch of us students, minding his own business when I caught sight of him. His whole posture paints a lonely, life-beaten, lost, and frightened mood and feel to the corner. If I could ever paint that scene, I would probably name it “Trapped”. Why on earth would someone look that miserable? Through sporadic conversations with Master and a few classmates, I learn that Chung is living in a pagoda managed by his Uncle cum Spiritual Master. That does not feel right. How could one be spiritually liberated or enlightened as some call it in such a miserable-looking body? And so I take the whole class out for lunch this time I’m back and intentionally sit next to him. Chung is a super shy kid. He does not seem to know what to say or how to open a conversation. As we get acquainted, He starts opening up and telling me about his life. Chung has been living with his uncle in the pagoda since he was little. His father moves to Taiwan to work and sends his mom some money now and then to support the family. Mom has always been a housewife and as such could not raise him up with the limited financial support from his father. Though he goes to school during the day, his duty is book-keeping for the pagoda and thus he has to be there day in day out to receive and reconcile money offerings by visitors. Just like that he grows up and becomes a lonely shadow, performing his silent duty. He is extremely gifted when it comes to Lingnan art and at one point Master has thought about passing on the teaching duty to him as the key disciple of Lingnan school in Vietnam. The kid is lost. His uncle wants him to become a monk and takes on the duty to manage the pagoda. He is definitely not there, yet feeling obligated to do so to pay respect to Uncle’s up-bringing. And there he is, stuck in between debt and life, passion and duty, future and past…. I gave him a painting book as a gift with a small note, “Hope you find peace and joy in art and hope to see you utilize your gift in Lingnan to help others around you.” As I was waiting to board the flight tonight, his sms came in. “Thank you sister. I now know there are others in the world who care about me. I will continue to improve in art and there will be a painting waiting for you when you return.” Sometimes, that’s all you need in life. #art #lingnan #vietnam #love #life

Melaka river cruise – everyone talks about it on-line and off-line. It is a bit over-rated. You call a ferry that take you along the smelly Melaka river a river cruise? Well, you get to see grafitti on some houses along the river. The highlight, however, is seeing hundreds of globe drifters, the noisy Melaka night birds, travel back to their tree homes in families and groups. Family comes to mind upon the moody sunset. #globedrifters #mallaca #melaka #rivercruise

It was 8:00PM on a small lane way near Tameike-sanno station. After a fulfilling sashimi dinner at Kitokito, a small tucked-away restaurant in the same area, I decided to take a walk and get some fresh air. After all, the weather has been very accommodating for this tropical person. I spotted several men-in-black waiting in line in front of a vending machine. Well, there were buttons and thumbnail images but I could not seem to locate any products. Tokyo itself is overloaded with convenience. Every 100 meters I seem to find a convenient something, if not convenient stores then drink vending machines or cigarette vending machines. This vending machine, however, does not seem to fall into any of those categories. Imagination ran wild…. What could it be? Newspapers? Bit late for that. Condoms? Bit too outrageous for a skin-deep conservative society I guess. As I walked closer, the images became clearer. Noodle! A variety of noodle…. First you slot the money in; select which noodle you want; then get your receipt and change. There is a tiny noodle bar next door with a Japanese-size entrance where you can walk in, hand over the receipt at the counter and pick up your noodle. No words spoken. No interaction required. No mistakes possibly made. The noodle can stay silent as people immerse in their own world. I ask myself whether people are swallowing their past or chewing on their future because at this very moment, there is no present, no presence. You may as well replace that guy at the counter handing out bowls of noodle tonight with a black-suit robot. You never know! Where do we go from here? Is silence the answer to this solitary world of ours? #silent #world #present #perspective #presence #mindfulness #Tokyo #life

Pudong International Airport, May 22, 2013 Totally exhausted, I board the 11:00 Cathay Pacific flight heading home. It’s now 13:15 and I am still on the grounded plane without a distant idea when we will take off. That’s pretty common for any flights in and out of China. Always prepare for the worst! Today’s delay is not at all iritating to me. My time is spent reading the first few pages of a book that a China friend of mine gave me as a present last night, Lunyu by Confucius. I of course get right onto the first few pages, excited to learn more about the teachings of Confucius, the great philosopher and educator of ancient China. One sentence immediately catches my attention, “Never worry if others do not understand you. Worry if you don’t understand others!”. My mind travels right back to a conversation I have in Najing with 2 local friends when one asks me what I think about Chinese people. Having experienced numerous bad experiences in China, I rightfully reply, “I am not talking about you two, but most Chinese main-landers carry no manner.” Silence takes over the car as we move forward…. We discuss further about the lack of foundation in the Chinese educational system later that day but never go back to the “manner” topic. Sitting on the airplane now, reading Confucius’s teaching, I suddenly feel very ashamed of myself for judging others based on my personal background and up-bringing. How could I expect people to think, know, and act the way I do? How could I impose my culture upon the people of China? They surely irritate me to some extent and they definitely will irritate anyone else who have been so adapted to an orderly environment. However, if I am to think twice about this matter, how on earth could I blame them? You don’t know what you don’t know. When certain behaviors are widely accepted, you grow up being implanted with those concepts as normal standards. They obviously are ignorent of the fact that they do sometimes annoy the hell out of me…. And yet these great China friends of mine have done their best looking after me on this trip. Pieces of the same puzzle simply do not match. After all, it seems to be because of one’s perspective towards a matter…. My China friends know it all starts with education to change a society and they know it takes a few generations to do so. They do not know how, how long it takes and when it will happen. Yet they all live on with hope. For now, I tell myself to learn to understand them. “Never worry if others do not understand you. Worry if you do not understand others!” 不患人之不己知，患不知人也。 #confucius #understanding #china #perspective #life

Xi’an, May 14, 2013 I was totally thrilled to make this trip to Xi’an, the capital city in thirteen Chinese dynasties which in total lasted over 1100 years. This is where the much broadcasted Terra Cotta Warriors and Horses were found. These sculptures depict the armies of Qin Shi Huang (秦始皇), the first emperor of China. The figures, dating from 210BC, were discovered in 1974 by some local farmers in Lin Tong district, Xi’an, near the Mausoleum of Emperor Qin Shi Huang. Such rich and worthy history! The first impression of Xi’an, however, was that of a dark, suffocating, care-slacking kind of feeling from the airport to the hotel. The airport itself was dark and gloomy, kinda like you are on your last life in a warrior computer game. It took us more than an hour from the airport to the Crowne Plaza Hotel, supposedly the landmark of the city as the the driver put it since it is the tallest building in Xi’an. Along the way, greyish redish run-down residential buildings line up in odd orders. The whole thing paints a saddened, tragic mood to the city skyline. I wondered if I was in the right city, the glorious ancient city of China; the past unseen, the future unknown, the present perplexing…. Xi’an reminds me of Cairo and Bucharest. Like Cairo, it’s a heritage city with thousands of years of history which can really make you stop, put aside all the earthly monkey thoughts to simply appreciate the glory of past civilizations. However, Cairo seems to be trapped in the glory of the past without any forward direction into the future while Xi’an marches forward at the light-year speed without a single nostalgic expression of the much admired by-gone era. Like Bucharest, Xi’an hosts some of the most amazing architectural structures with thousands of years of history, but one would never understand how these gorgeous masterpieces could be disgracefully placed amidst the skinny, miserable-looking, multi-storey residential boxes. The past and the present host an awkward relationship though they somehow learn to co-exist. Another day dawns upon Xi’an as I leave this city with mixed emotions of belonging to the past yet failing to fit into the now of this historical city. The future is unknown. All I know is that my future depends upon my mindful living in the present. Just like the ancient people of Xi’an created today’s amazing Xi’an for us to admire, from the bottom of my heart, I pray that the people of Xi’an shall be mindful of their present to help Xi’an live on as the cultural heartbeat of China. #china #mindfulness #perspective #xian

The Outdoor Zoo April 28 is just another summer day at Melaka zoo, except that it is a long weekend and people are eagerly taking time out to entertain themselves. To Leo the Lion, today sooner or later shall become yesterday. How much longer can one entertain oneself? It’s scorching hot. Leo lies motionless with half an eye open. One after another, couples and groups, walk past his cell. Some look without seeing. Some look just for the sake of looking. Some do not even bother. If at all more fascinating, some snap numerous photos just to post on facebook. Even worse, some shake their heads feeling all sorry for the trapped, old, worn-out lion being deprived of its basic animal rights. One thing is common and crystal clear. No one is here, now. All Leo can see are faces of anger, anxiety, misery, fear, loss, and confusion. “What a zoo out there!”, Leo thinks to himself. “It’s not a bad idea staying in-door, inside this peaceful island of mine”. #lion #philosophy #melaka #mallaca #zen #perspectives #life #zoo

Coming from the chaotic, hustle bustle cities of Melaka and Saigon, it’s been 12 hours since I landed in Tokyo and yet I have not seemed to get used to such organized-to-the-teeth environment here. What an efficient society! Everything is carefully thought out. Everyone plays their parts. Infrastructures are well-built. “What difference does it make?”, you ask. Man-made cities all start to look the same to me. But people never do! Not once have I been disappointed in the last 12 hours with anyone I get in contact with. The customs officer smiles and crackes jokes. How unusual! all the taxi drivers are so polite, so honorable in their manner. The hotel staff are so dedicated to deliver the best service from their heart. The traffic police is so kind and walks me across the street. The security guard at Suntory Art Museum kindly makes sure I got to the right hotel. All are so polite, so humble, and so warm-hearted. Is this for real? Forget all the political bullshits. When it comes down to normal people and normal lives, this is where I feel at home. Don’t know whether the next few days will change my perception of Japan but for now, to me, it is the “Land of the Kind-Hearted”. It is chilly in Tokyo with the left-over of winter wind but it is warmth that keep me walking tonight…. #kindness #perspective #love #Tokyo #life #japan