Canto Cutie - Volume 3

An art zine about the Cantonese diaspora

Volume III July 2021 Curated by Katherine Leung

Canto Cutie

Volume III

Contributors

Sally Chen New York, USA

Wandy Cheng Toronto, Canada

Cheng Tim Tim Hong Kong

Atom Cheung Hong Kong

Brenda Chi Los Angeles, USA

Brandon Chu Hong Kong

Adrienne Hugh Hong Kong

icylevs San Diego, USA

Tsz Kam Austin, USA

Kar London, UK

Steven Kin Detroit, USA

Cherie Kwok Birmingham, UK

Pamela Kwong New York, USA

Julie Lai Hong Kong

Karen Kar Yen Law Toronto, Canada

Lauren Man Hong Kong

Karon Ng London, UK

Misato Pang St. Louis, USA

PÚCA Waterford City, Ireland

Kristie Song Irvine, USA

Megan SooHoo Los Angeles, USA

J. Hyde T. New York, USA

Christina Young New York, USA

莉子 Hong Kong

I dedicate this volume to:

今期《藝文聚粵》獻給

My grandfather (yeh yeh),

whose house along the lagoon

has been my second home for

the last four years

我的爺爺 , 他在湖邊的房子

是我過去四年的第二個家

&

另外

whose conversations about

language, linguistics, and

history prompted the creation

of Canto Cutie exactly one

year ago.

他一年前關於語言、語言學

及歷史的對話 , 促使《藝文

聚粵》的誕生。

From the editor

My first memories of Hong Kong take place at the Victoria Park

pool. As an adolescent Asian American, I was following in the

steps to become a competitive swimmer and I wouldn’t let

summers in Hong Kong get in the way of my rigorous training. My

mom would accompany my walk from our Wan Chai apartment to

the Victoria Park pool in Causeway Bay in the early mornings. The

British-style locker rooms and lack of lane lines differentiating

personal space in the pool embodied a different kind of swimming

etiquette. The water was usually packed with older people - and

without the lane markers, it was a microcosm of the traffic and

chaos of the larger city. The Victoria Park pool at peak times was

not a place to prove my athletic ability or selfishly get a “work out,”

at least in the individualized, American way that I was used to.

Hong Kong’s history - past and present - is intertwined with its

island locale. Before British colonization and before dynastic rule,

Hong Kong was a collection of fishing villages. The estuaries and

coastal habitats make it prime for some of the most biodiverse

wildlife found on earth. Both residents and visitors of Hong Kong

get a glimpse of this through it’s cuisine, a rich gastronomic

tradition rooted in seafood and portability, but the oceanic

geography has endless cultural implications. From it’s geopolitical

position, robust history of piracy and conquest, to the port

6

location which lends itself to being a safe haven for refugees and

migrants - many of the works in Volume III address the modern-day

repercussions of that very concept. In a sense, Hong Kongers are

drifters, prone to adapting to new situations, which could explain

why our diaspora is as diverse as it is.

Cantonese people in the United States arrived by sea to establish

New York City and San Francisco’s Chinatowns, which are referenced

frequently in this volume. Volume II was released at the end of a

year-long lockdown, but here we are in July 2021- simultaneously

experiencing the same hopefulness and homesickness. Many artists

have turned to food to reclaim autonomy in their lives. In uncertain

times, art will always be a source of comfort and familiarity.

我對香港的第一個記憶是維多利亞公園游泳池。那時我還是一位十

多歲的亞裔美國人 , 正準備成一位游泳選手 , 不會讓香港的夏日阻

礙我的嚴密訓練。母親一大早就會陪我從灣仔的單位 , 步行到銅鑼

灣的維園泳池。游泳池用的是英式儲物櫃室 , 池内沒有泳線間隔出

私人空間 , 游泳禮儀習慣上也因此有所不同。池内擠滿長者 , 沒有

間出泳線 , 泳池就變成這城市人多混亂的縮影。繁忙時候的維園泳

池不是我展示運動細胞或是自私地鍛煉身體的地方 , 至少不是我熟

悉的那種較有個人空間的美國模式。

不論是過去還是現在 , 香港歷史都跟其小島地性有關。英國殖民時

期前 , 甚至遠在史前時期 , 香港曾擁有多條漁村 , 其河口灣及海灣

也是多種野生動物上好的棲息地。香港很多飲食習慣也跟海產和其

港口位置息息相關 , 居民和旅客可以透過美食看到香港海洋性的一

面。香港的地緣政治定位、海盜及佔據的豐富歷史 , 以及港口地理

( 使其成為難民及移民的避風港 ), 這些事情在現今的影響 , 也在

第三冊的作品中涉獵。某程度上 , 香港人一直在漂泊著 , 經常就新

環境作出應變 , 這也是我們離散群體如此多樣的原因。

粵裔人從海路到達美國 , 建立了紐約市及三藩市的唐人街 , 今期不

少作品也提及到這一點。第二冊在長達一年的封城後期出版 , 而現

在已是 2021 年 7 月 , 同時經歷希望與鄉愁。很多藝術家都以飲食來

重據自己的生活。在動蕩的時候 , 藝術永遠都是熟識的慰藉。

Katherine Leung

Editor and curator

編輯及策展人

7

Table of Contents

Steven Kin 10

pottery

Sally Chen 18

illustration

Sally Chen 20

poetry

莉子 24

illustration

Julie Lai 32

interview + feature

kar 48

photo

Cheng Tim Tim 50

poetry

Misato Pang 52

painting

Megan SooHoo 56

poetry

Lauren Man 58

photoset

J. Hyde T. 61

poetry

icylevs 66

poetry

Lauren Man 72

short story

Wandy Cheng 82

illustration

8

Christina Young 84

3D render

Brandon Chu 88

poetry

Brenda Chi 90

illustration

Yui Jit Kwong 92

poetry

Karen Kar Yen Law 94

interview + feature

Cherie Kwok 112

illustration

Atom Cheng 114

essay

Pamela Kwong 116

essay

Adrienne Hugh 118

digital manipulation

Adrienne Hugh 120

illustration

Kristie Song 122

short story

PÚCA 124

photoset

Tsz Kam 136

short story + paintings

Karon Ng 148

interview + feature

9

10

Steven Kin

Detroit, USA

I am a fourth generation Chinese American, whose family comes from

the Toisan region of Canton. These cups use take-out box iconography

and mix them with images from jobs worked by Asian immigrants to

support their families.

About Steven Kin

@s_kin

Steven Kin is a Detroit based artist. They make functional ceramic work

based on the process of creating and firing ceramics, and are currently

focused on making pots based on issues in the Asian American

diaspora. Most of their work is fired in soda and wood fired

atmospheres. Steven went to school at College for Creative Studies in

Detroit, graduating in 2019 with a BFA majoring in Ceramics and a

minor in Product Design.

11

12

Steven Kin

Asian Diaspora Rocks Cup (Grocery)

3.5"x3.5"x4", Soda Fired Porcelain

13

14

Steven Kin

Asian Diaspora Rocks Cup (Restaurant)


15

16

Steven Kin

Asian Diaspora Rocks Cup (Laundromat/Textiles)


17

18

Sally Chen

flipping fish

Digital Illustration

19

My poem and visual art pieces are all

explorations of the intricacies and

intertwinements of intergenerational

trauma that my family and I hold.

There are slippery and winding

folktales that live in the recesses of my

mind. Vague ideas of home and

identity fragment into pieces that are

then lovingly put back together at the

seams. I long for peace and comfort

from parsing through my own family’s

diasporic and ephemeral narratives

that are so riddled with invisible pain,

grief, and steeled resolves, and how I

can find and incorporate bursts of

light in the cracks inevitably made

from transit.

Sally Chen

20

Sally Chen

New York, USA

“flipping fish” is a digital illustration about the superstition where it’s bad

luck to flip over a whole fish instead of removing the bone because it

resembles a capsized boat. It brings to life one of the many surreal folktales

and memories I was taught growing up.

About Sally Chen

salpalsworld.myportfolio.com @salpal.c

Sally Chen (any/all) is a queer, second-generation Toisanese American

illustrator and poet that loves to make work about connections to people,

places, and objects through the lens of intimacy, ideas of home, and

identity. They’re currently a BFA Illustration student at Parson’s School of

Design and dream of a future with less boundaries and more love. They

adore pockets of sunshine, jade pendants, herbal jelly, and holding hands.

21

toisan + me // ( 台山 + 我 )

by Sally Chen

“toisan + me // ( 台山 + 我 )” is a poem I wrote shortly after the first trip

I made to Toisan (that I remember) in 2016. It’s a place so familiar to

my parents and grandparents, but not me; yet the imagery, scents, and

liveliness of Toisan were so familiar and reflective of the lives I knew in

Brooklyn. I simultaneously felt like I was finally home, and yet

undeniably like I didn’t belong. Since then, I’ve kept this poem close to

my heart and performed it a couple of times at open mics, including

once at the Asian American Writer’s Workshop.

in a land that

i have not returned to in over a decade,

the scent of

car exhaust

from the exhausted;

cigarette smoke from

disillusioned teens & overworked uncles; and

the meaty smell from street food stands that

have existed for years —

making and remaking a family tradition

as if possessed by the spirit of their ancestors,

fills my lungs.

the sound of

mahjong tiles clicking and clacking as they’re moved by

old but nimble fingers that know each piece by the grooves,

(a tell-tale sign that they’ve played the game for years);

the ring of a passing bicycle bell and urgent pedaling,

a reassuring cue that they’re being waited for,

that they’re needed;

the buzzing from mosquitos,

(a soft yet constant reminder that we’re never alone); and

hushed murmurs in a heavily accented dialect through

thinly veiled apartment windows,

whispering about divorce, money, and

death

(of course death)

fills my ears.

the sight of

a glowing convenience store sign a block down,

whose neon light caresses the faces of those who pass,

softening yet revealing each individual’s hills and dips,

(ups and downs);

uniform, towering apartments covered in vines, marble, and steel —

(were they ever meant to be together,

those things made by mother nature and these things

made by our nature?)

fills my eyes.

above me is

an inky black sky peppered with

just about a million glittering stars, twinkling

as if they were trying to play peekaboo with the dark

that gently envelops them now, but

will

u d u t d y

n o b e l

soon

consume

them.

poh poh says,

“if you look at them for too long,

you’re going to have as many moles as there are stars!”

but,

even in the city where the stars hide,

i bloom speckles of pigment:

a natural reminder that

maybe i’m supposed to be

on the watch for them.

i breathe and

in this small city,

in this fleeting,

seemingly insignificant moment, only

w o n d e r

fills my heart.

莉子

Hong Kong

Originally from Osaka, Japan, I’ve been living in Hong Kong for 10 years

now. I've been a "foreigner" my entire life - living in Japan, Taiwan,

Shanghai, and finally Hong Kong. As a foreigner, food was one way that

I familiarized myself with the Cantonese culture. My illustrations

include words in Japanese, English and Chinese - to me, this chaotic,

diverse city is a liminal space where I feel at home but disorientated and

lost about my identity at the same time - and that’s exactly why I love

this city. .

About 莉子 tanakr530.wixsite.com/my-site @rikos_pen

My illustrations reflect how food and our social and political lives are so

inevitably interconnected. As the political situation intensified and the

pandemic spread, the people of the city showed their resilience and

adaptability. For me, the shifting eating culture of this city is a

representation of that. My illustrations are filled with Easter eggs - from

proverbs hidden in billboards, smokes, key figures lurking in the

background and more, hoping to capture the subtle signs of people's

resistance.

莉子

新・フードコート

Illustration

莉子

おうち火鍋

Illustration

28

莉子

雨降り酒楼

Illustration

29

30

莉子

監視カメラと茶餐廳

Illustration

31

Interview

with Julie Lai

32

Julie Lai

Lockdown Comfort


33

34

Julie Lai

Hong Kong

Julie Lai is an illustrator born and raised in Hong Kong. She

graduated from Falmouth University with a BA in Illustration.

Drawing inspiration from urban and natural landscapes, she aims to

explore the contours of spaces through an emotive lens. Fluid lines

and textures are a common feature of her visual style.

Julie Lai 是一位於香港土生土長的插畫家 , 她在法爾茅斯大學畢

業 , 取得插畫系文學士學位。她從城市及自然風景取材 , 以情感

豐富的角度 , 探索空間的輪廓。流暢的線條和質感是她視覺風格

的常見元素。

laijulie.com @juliecoolie

35

You have an amazing watercoloresque

style with an organic palette

and poetic, sinewy line work. How

did you develop this style?

你的作品用色自然 , 線條分明且富有

詩意 , 風格有點像水彩畫。這種畫風

是怎樣演變而成的 ?

My style evolved from experiments in

mixing and playing around with

traditional and digital media. I really

enjoy using marks and multiple lines

in my work, probably influenced by

my exposure to Chinese paintings and

calligraphy. Something as simple as

lines cannot be overlooked, as they

have such a strong ability to convey

emotion or energy to viewers.

Incorporating intuitive and

spontaneous marks often helps me

weave in certain emotions into an

illustration. I’m a huge fan of brush

pens and the kind of varied and fluid

marks it creates.

我嘗試了傳統和數碼媒體 , 將兩者揉

合 , 並從這些試驗中建立了自己的風

格。我喜歡在作品使用多重線條 , 這

可能跟我接觸中國國畫和書法有關。

線條雖然簡單 , 但能向觀眾表達情感

和力量 , 因此不能忽視。採用這些以

直覺隨心所畫的線條 , 有助將某些情

感注入畫作。我也很喜歡毛筆 , 以及

它多變、流暢的線條。

The Sum of Everything is a

collaborative project you work on

with Adriena Fong, Amita

Sevellaraja and Sarah Wong based

on your personal experience with

cultural identity. Can you talk

more about how you chose to work

with these three other femaleidentifying

artists? What was the

process like? What’s next for this

project?

「The Sum of Everything 」是你跟

Adriena Fong、Amita Sevellaraja 和

Sarah Wong 的合作項目 , 主題關於你

們的個人經歷及文化身分認同。你為

甚麼選擇跟這三位女性藝術家合作 ?

過程是怎樣的 ? 這項目將來有甚麼計

劃 ?

The four of us have been really good

friends throughout university.

Though we were all from different

countries in Asia, we discovered that

we had a lot of similar experiences and

feelings about the topic of cultural

identity, often feeling not eastern or

western enough as we travelled back

and forth from our homes to the UK.

36

The process was very organic,

stemming from long personal

conversations. As this was a

collaborative project, we thought that

we could take more liberties with the

format and explore cultural identity

in a more conceptual manner. The

format of the project was a

concertina that took inspiration from

tapestry motifs and decorative

elements. The priority was to bring

our own personal experiences and

ideas to the forefront. Under the

overarching theme of cultural

identity and belonging, we each had a

panel to explore specific ideas we had

in relation to the theme. This project

feels to me like a celebration of the

parts that make us who we are. Due to

the pandemic, we weren’t able to

showcase the project in our

graduation show but we’re definitely

open to collaborating again on future

works.

我們四個在大學時是很要好的朋友 ,

雖然我們來自不同亞洲國家 , 但大家

在文化身分認同這課題上有很多類似

的經歷和情感 , 在往返英國和家鄉

時 , 總覺得自己不夠東方 , 也不夠西

方。

我們的創作始於漫長的個人對話 , 是

自然而生的過程。因為這是一個合作

項目 , 我們覺得可以在形式上更隨

意 , 以一個更概念性的方法探索文化

身分認同。這項目以手風琴摺頁的形

式展示作品 , 並從緙織壁毯圖案及裝

飾元素中取得靈感 , 而重點是呈現個

人經驗和想法。在文化身分認同及歸

屬感的大課題下 , 我們各有一頁探索

跟該主題相關的想法。對我來說 , 這

項目就像紀念那些造就我們身分的元

素。因為疫情關係 , 我們不能在畢業

展中展出這作品 , 但我們希望日後可

以再次合作。

Julie Lai

The Sum of Everything


37

38

As you grapple with the “East vs West” mentality in your art, you

evoke a lot of symbolism in your work for The Sum of Everything.

Can you tell me more about the symbols in this piece?

你的作品涉獵「中西合璧」的意識 , 而你也在「The Sum of

Everything」運用大量象徵手法。可以解釋一下這作品中的象徵元素

嗎 ?

Growing up, being told that I wasn’t “enough” of something (e.g not

Chinese enough or not local enough) was a point of insecurity that

created a lot of inner turmoil. I wanted my art to reflect the point of self

acceptance that I have reached, where I no longer seek out external

validation from others.

The top left features Lion Rock, an iconic symbol of the Hong Kong spirit

of perseverance and solidarity. It overlooks the bustling and energetic

city, with crowds gathered together. Perseverance is also a key personal

value of mine that has been instilled into me since childhood and this is

echoed by the lotus flowers, which emerge and blossom from muddy

waters.

The cup of Hong Kong milk tea acts as a symbol of the merging of East

and West, as it is the combination of black tea and evaporated or

condensed milk. The drink echoes my own upbringing and identity as

someone who has been influenced and shaped by both Eastern and

Western culture. The combination of those things have created who I am

today, with its own uniqueness. Hence, the entire composition together

is this sort of affirmation and celebration of my identity.

在我成長時 , 有人對我說我的「不足」( 例如不夠華人、不夠本

地 ), 會動搖我的安全感、讓我內心產生糾結。我希望自己的藝術可

以反映我鍛鍊出的自我接納 , 我不再需要旁人的肯定。

左上角的獅子山是香港堅忍和團結精神的代表 , 獅子山俯瞰繁忙而又

充滿活力的城市 , 當中人群走在一起。堅忍是我從小開始就被灌輸的

概念 , 對我來說是一個很重要的個人價值觀 , 而從淤泥中綻放而出蓮

花 , 也重申了這種價值觀。

港式奶茶結合紅茶和淡奶或煉奶 , 是「中西合璧」的象徵 , 也反映著

我的成長及身分認同 , 因為我也是給東西方文化所影響和塑造而成

的。這些事物結合起來 , 造就了今天這個獨特的我 , 因此整個作品的

構圖用意是確立和紀念我的身分。

39

40

Lockdown Comfort is a collection of Hong

Kong dishes you fondly recall and return to,

time and time again. In your recollections,

location and geographical space play a role in

your memories. You write about your time at

Fairwood, Cafe de Coral, Cha Can Tengs and

Dai Pai Dongs. How are these places affected

by arguments of cultural authenticity

ongoing in Hong Kong today? How are these

places bastions for more than just Hong

Kong’s quirky gastronomy, but rather,

something political?

「Lockdown Comfort」是一系列你一再回想和

談及的港式小菜。在你的記憶中 , 地點及地理空

間均佔了一個角色。你寫下了在大快活、大家

樂、茶餐廳和大排檔度過的時光。現時在香港有

關文化真實性的討論如何影響這些地方 ? 為甚麼

這些地方不只是香港獨特飲食文化的堡壘 , 而是

帶有深一層政治涵義 ?

Places such as Cha Can Tengs and Dai Pai Dongs

form this collective memory in the hearts of Hong

Kongers. However, they are dwindling in numbers

due to several factors. I suppose the question of

authenticity might be questioned when foods

originally served in Cha Can Tengs and Dai Pai

Dongs end up being served in fast food chains

such as Fairwood. I think regardless of location,

cooking such Hong Kong dishes is a political act in

itself, which refuses to be eroded under the force

of political winds. These dishes are ultimately a

unique reflection of the city’s history and people.

茶餐廳及大排檔等地方在香港人心目中是集體回

憶的一部分 , 但因為各種原因而逐漸息微。我認

為茶餐廳及大排檔美食成為大快活等連鎖快餐店

的食物時 , 就構成了真實性的問題。但無論在甚

麼地方 , 做這些港式菜本就是帶政治意味的舉

動 , 因為飲食不會被政治風氣蠶食。這些菜式是

這城市的歷史和人的獨特縮影。

Julie Lai

Lockdown Comfort


41

Yin Yeung is a mixture of Hong Kong

style milk tea and coffee mixed

together, “a kind of reflection of Hong

Kong’s hybrid identity,” you write. But

you didn’t try to recreate it until

lockdown, using an aeropress and

Facebook video tutorial. Can you talk

about why this was necessary, more

than ever, in quarantine?

鴛鴦由港式奶茶和咖啡混合而成 , 你

指它「反映香港的混合身分」。然而

你一直未沖過這飲料 , 到封城才跟著

Facebook 上的教學影片 , 用咖啡機

沖鴛鴦。你可以解釋一下 , 為甚麼在

隔離的時候 , 這顯得尤其重要 ?

In quarantine, the outside world sort

of blurred away in the confines of my

home. Every day had this feeling of

uncertainty and worry, which drew me

into finding the comforting and the

familiar. Whilst living in Hong Kong,

Yin Yeung was readily available

around me. But the lockdown period

really pushed this “why not” attitude,

that encouraged me to try things that

I never had done before. The distinct

flavour instantly brought back a flood

of memories that were incredibly

soothing at that point of time.

隔離的時候 , 因為困在家中 , 外面的

世界變得模糊 , 每天都充滿未知之數

和擔憂 , 這驅使我尋找慰藉和熟悉的

感覺。鴛鴦在香港很容易買到 , 而封

城則促成了「有何不可」的態度 , 鼓

勵我嘗試我從未做過的事。這獨特的

味道立刻勾起我的回憶 , 在那時候給

我很大的安慰。

In your work, these dishes

transcend traditional ideas of

cuisine and taste, but rather,

uncertainty in Hong Kong’s

political situation. Can you talk

about how food has become a

political refuge for you?

在你的作品 , 這些菜式不單止是飲食

和味道的傳統意義 , 更是反映香港政

治情況的不穩定。可以解釋一下食物

如何成為你的政治庇蔭 ?

Hong Kong is often described as “on

borrowed time in a borrowed place”.

The events from 2019 onwards ignited

this fear about the city’s future and

whether or not its unique culture

would be preserved under political

tides. Recreating these recipes from

scratch miles away from home felt

like an exercise in resistance, whilst

simultaneously providing refuge. It

affirmed to me that Hong Kong will

always be the home that I love, and no

matter what happens, at least I’ll have

these dishes to remind me of good

memories and moments.

香港經常被形容為「借來的時間、借

來的地方」。2019 年起發生的事情

引起大家對這城市前程的恐懼 , 令人

思考在政治浪潮下 , 香港能否保留其

獨特文化。離家千里之外 , 從零開始

準備這些菜式 , 就像對抗這些浪潮一

樣 , 同時又帶給我庇蔭。這讓我確定

香港永遠都是我所愛的家園 , 無論發

生任何事 , 至少我也有這些菜式 , 讓

我記起美好的回憶和時光。

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Julie Lai

Lockdown Comfort


43

Tell me more about After Dark,

a personal work depicting a

Hong Kong alley after dark.

可以講解「After Dark」這個描

繪香港橫街小巷入夜景色的個人

作品嗎 ?

After Dark was actually based off

an actual alley in Sha Tin. Hong

Kong tends to be depicted as this

cosmopolitan and futuristic city,

but this illustration was

showcasing these kinds of quiet

alleyways that you see as you walk

past rows of buildings. A not so

glamorous view of garbage bins

and boxes with the backdrop of

the neon lights of the city.

「After Dark」繪畫的其實是沙

田一條小巷。香港一般被視為大

都會、充滿未來感的城市 , 而這

作品則描繪走過一排又一排的大

廈時所看到的寧靜小巷。以城市

的霓虹燈作背景 , 描繪了這地方

滿街垃圾桶和廢紙箱、不太華麗

的一面。

Julie Lai

After Dark


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45

Lockdown Comfort is a

project that explores

returning to certain Hong

Kong dishes that evoke

strong memories,

creating this longing for

home whilst

simultaneously creating

an opportunity to

reconnect with one's

identity and culture. It's a

reminder of how food can

affirm one's identity

whilst providing a sense

of needed comfort.

Julie Lai

Julie Lai

Lockdown Comfort


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kar

London, UK

Prior to 1997, my parents - like many Hong Kongers at the time - made

the difficult decision to uproot their lives and to immigrate in fear of

what would become of the city post Handover. In 2021, it feels like

history is repeating itself as many are faced with the agonizing dilemma

of possibly leaving the place that they call home. A home that is all too

quickly losing its unique identity, ideas, and ideals. A home that is being

eroded without the consent of its people. A home that no longer

recognisably resembles theirs, or feels like home.

About kar @chasingkar @sketchykarr

kar is a self-identified banana - yellow on the outside, kinda white on the

inside, trying to blend her two identities, rather than seeing them as

dualities. kar was born in Canada and raised in Hong Kong, she

currently lives in the UK.

kar

Home Kong

digital photo

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Rudimentary Cantonese

for Shawn Shawn

Your toddler's accent renewed tong si,

poems from the Tang Dynasty,

gracing anxious aunties before sleep

who play your videos on repeat.

Lines live on (beyond the poet's intention.)

花落 faa lok / final (flowers fall / 最終 )

知 zit / 擳 (who knows / tickle)

多少 do siu / 到笑 (how many?/ smile)

Your mother goes by the name Zi,

worrying he'll be as stubborn as me.

"H" stands for home, Hong Kong

but more importantly, honesty.

You will gain a new mother tongue.

Cantonese may just live among

your household, in the tilted rhymes

of springs sleeping in mind's soil.

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Cheng Tim Tim

Hong Kong

A coworker of mine is emigrating from Hong Kong for her 2-year-old

son due to political tension. I wrote the poem "Rudimentary Cantonese"

as a parting gift to my coworker, who shares videos of her son reciting

Cantonese poems. The poem attempts to capture my fascination on the

inter-zone of languages, especially in early language acquisition,

translation and immigrant families.

About Cheng Tim Tim

Cheng Tim Tim is a teacher and a poet born in Hong Kong to a Hokkien

family. Her poems have been published or are forthcoming in Cha: An

Asian Literary Journal, The Offing, SAND Journal, Cordite Poetry

Review, among others. She is one of the co-founding editors of EDGE:

HKBU Creative Journal. She believes in music that heals and provokes.

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52

Misato Pang

Gather round the dinner table.

Noises everywhere, no real

conversations. Just glances

22”x30”, Oil on paper

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Generational divide is

one of the biggest social

phenomenon facing

Hong Kong as the prodemocracy

movement

escalates to counter the

lack of response from

the government.

Misato Pang

Misato Pang

St. Louis, USA

One of the issues confronting this divide is the fundamental value

placement in what we define as “a good life.” In a nutshell, most older

generations value economic stability and social harmony as utmost priority,

whereas the younger generations value opportunities for social progress and

the merit of human rights as foundation for the longevity of genuine

happiness. These two values inevitably clash as the youngster storms out of

his/her house leaving the old ones panting for air from a heated argument.

Are conversations available during this time of massive political unrest and

social chaos? I don’t know. But I do hope that we could all gather around this

table still— and maybe for once, we can look each other in the eyes and

recognize the humanity amongst ourselves. Love triumphs.

About Misato Pang

@misatopang

I was born and raised in Hong Kong under Japanese and Chinese parents

and immigrated to the United States during late adolescence. My work

consists of images adopted from Asian rituals that are filtered through the

lens of Western aesthetics. I am drawn to the intense concentration of

saturated colors and abstracted forms in Fauvism and Die Brücke, as well as

the crudeness and somewhat sinister innocence of Outsider art. I am fond of

creating a peculiar narrative that exists on the cusp of reality and

imagination. As a result, what was once familiar as tradition to a certain

cultural insider now alienates the viewer due to the awkwardness and

unexpected elements that appear in the paintings. My images are often

composed in a manner that is spontaneous and reactive to the process of

mark-making, while the interlocking forms and color shifts are an attempt to

create dimensions of space that could reveal themselves over time.

first time for everything

from the moment you said it

i could feel a sense of indifference

taste saline up and down my airway

all i could do was nod and say “mhm”

all i could do was nod and say “mhm”

during our conversation

after we talked

i was going through my thoughts

i couldn’t hold it any longer

i bursted into tears

i tried to suppress it

it wouldn’t budge

i could finally sense

what was happening to me

the restlessness and tension inside of me couldn’t catch my breath

heartbeat beating incessantly

my self-sabotaging nature

reliving those emotions

of being alone by myself

myself in a corner crying aloud

helpless with what was in front of me trying to lay myself down

as i couldn’t stop sobbing

tasting the salt through my lungs taxing for gasped air...

i was able to re-compose

bring my thoughts aloud

all it was...was the fear

of not being loved

not having someone to fall back on it was all in my mind

the trembling tremor of my fears taken abound

56

Megan SooHoo

Los Angeles, USA

“first time for everything” was a poem that was created after I

experienced my first visceral panic/anxiety attack. It was a weird

combination of mixed feelings and unfamiliar territory that I wasn't

used to receiving. Being comforted by someone you feel deeply about

and knowing there is an ultimate care and support can be unimaginable

at times.

About Megan SooHoo meganvsoohoo.studio @mvsoohoo

Megan SooHoo is a Los Angeles native that is currently based in Los

Angeles, CA. She is currently finishing up her final year at California

College of the Arts and is expected to graduate in Fall 2021. She mainly

works within the realm of photography, sculpture, and installation, but

enjoys being multifaceted in various practices. Most of her work conveys

the human condition within their surroundings and in most recent

years, portrays her own personal experiences through her art practice.

57

58

Lauren Man

Typhoon Worlds

Digital photo

59

60

J. Hyde T.

New York, USA

As a 竹升 in a Cantonese household all my expressions and feelings I

have towards my parents are almost always lost in translation. There

are many times when my parents' expectations feel like suffocating

burdens - and I'm fine with that, because just like how I cannot come

to understand them, I do not need them to understand me. My poems

focus on such.

About J. Hyde T.

@hyde_the_bitter

My work explores the tip of suicidal thoughts and failing to meet the

expectation of my love ones. Through my poems I want my readers to

know that there can be solace in being lost.

* 竹升 is a Cantonese slang term for an overseas Chinese person who

was born in a Western country or a Chinese person who prefers to

identify with Western culture over traditional Chinese culture.

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Red Basin

by J. Hyde T.

I remember the nights

when you scrubbed my back

telling me to grow up to

understand gratefulness

needs to be paid back with sincerity

That if I kept my head down

and paced along

I can brace success

with comfort you've never had

Your embrace left me affection

As you wiped my face

I thought you were my all

and to dive was to sink

Now I can't recall why

hot showers

poured like ladles of soup

Or why your breath bothered me

Or why your mutters always crept

close to my neck

pricing air

Repeating that you've paid

to pave where I stood

and to float was all I needed to do

That my repentance

was to stop keeping my head up

when I'm looking at you.

Melting Closet

by J. Hyde T.

You're looking at me through those colored lenses

more tired than agitated of what I've become

62

My words bleed of gasoline

too demure to greet your ears

You call them muffled lies

disguised phases faking cries

I'm impaled by my ladder

motion without progression

The higher I go, the tighter your arms fold

unwilling to catch me if I were to fall

I've forgotten your warm embrace

less familiar than a soap bar armed with a blade

My chase for yesterday

has been scorching on a white trace

Your lips are searchin' for a star

lost in the winter rain

But I've been burning since last

spring. An ignition straying pass

your recognition.

Take Care Tonight (I Want To Sleep In Some More)

by J. Hyde T.

Sometimes I lay on the roof

hoping for the shingles to come loose

So I can slide and watch the stars collide

as I hit the river

head first going for a shallow dive

I would Wish I could chase my thoughts

until they all run chest first

through a strainer

leaving their clothes behind

so I can reclaim them to be mine

But it's just another Sunday night

I'm naked under red light

waiting for the Sometimes

and the Wish that I would

if I could.

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64

Lauren Man

Typhoon Worlds

Digital photo

65

二四八八 (2488)

by icylevs

My poem speaks on the fetishization of Asian women and the

perpetual foreignness that Asian Americans face in their

everyday lives. Often, simply stating the place where we grew up

is not a good enough answer even if we have never left the

country. This poem also honors and highlights the reality of

injustices that our ancestors faced and the significant roles that

they play in American history.

“So like… where are you from?”

The Bay Area, CA.

“No, like, where are you from?”

The Bay Area, CA.

“Come on now…

Where are you really from,

Where do you call home?”

If you are asking me

About my ‘exotic’ and ‘oriental’ features,

You’ve never seen anyone like me,

My English is amazing,

Thanks, it’s my third language.

No, I will not say a native phrase.

I guess my answer is

The Bay Area, CA.

My home.

Where my identity is rich in the culture, going dumb, and the

land of the hyphy.

Oakland.

Chinatown.

My home.

Where I spent countless days playing on the dragon boat,

Lincoln Park

With kids that look just like me.

66

The basement.

45th Avenue.

My home.

Where four families shared a two bedroom,

They all chipped in for their first trophy.

American.

But if you’re asking where I’m really from,

I guess my answer is

I’m really from the Transcontinental Railroad,

Where my great great grandfather’s blood and sweat are drenched

into the tracks of this land,

Just to be confined to the streets of

San Francisco.

Chinatown.

Unless of course,

He had dry-cleaning in his hands.

I’m really from Angel Island,

Where my great grandfather was held, for months

In a cell, with fifty other men.

Carving vertical lines into the walls, to count

The number of days it has been.

All waiting for interrogation, questions

“How many windows are in the place that you lived in?”

A moment of silence for those who didn’t make it out at the end.

I’m really from 媽 Ma,

Who at Twenty-three,

Left dancing, singing, dreams, dignity,

In exchange for Twenty US Dollars

And a Chinese to English dictionary.

I’m really from Her.

Who at Twenty-three,

Took a job as a maid,

With the hope that life could be made, for Me.

It has been forty years.

Forty years of lost dignity.

I’m really from my name 飛 Fei, to Fly,

Where Ma’s aspirations are channeled in me to soar, high. Masked

by an American name to save me

My dignity of the mispronunciation of My identity.

67

I’m really from 舅父 , my uncle, who assumed the role of a father,

When mine decided to AWOL.

I’m really from 姐姐 , my big sister, 細佬 , my little brother,

His children.

Who have given me the honor of becoming the middle sibling.

I’m really from my students,

Portable 33.

Who trusted me to be their teacher,

They have taught me the most about life,

They are the reasons why I teach.

Home is where the smell of burning incenses hurt my nostrils,

And what sounds like yelling, is really

婆婆 , my grandma, calling from the kitchen.

Home is where love is never mentioned, but displayed by

Cooking too much food and asking if you’ve eaten.

San Lorenzo, CA.

Where a twenty-four year collection of my belongings sit to

loam,

In the basement.

Ma’s very own three bedroom

Home.

But, I guess if you’re asking me about my ancestors,

Home begins in two villages.

Myanmar.

China.

I have never been.

I’m from The Bay.

That really is home.

About icylevs

@icylevs

I am a first generation Asian American from the Bay Area, CA. I

am an aspiring educator and youth advocate. I dream of the day

when my students will no longer be pestered about where they

come from.

68

Lauren Man

Typhoon Worlds

Digital photo

69

70

Lauren Man

Typhoon Worlds

Digital photo

71

Having spent most of my

life in Hong Kong, I

sometimes feel as if the

city is overly familiar to

me. I look forward to

when rain coats the city

ground and makes

everything luminescent.

These were taken during a

walk along Victoria

Harbour in July 2020, in

the aftermath of a T8

typhoon.

Lauren Man

72

Lauren Man

Hong Kong

COVID-19 brought me home to Hong Kong in the middle of my

undergraduate marine biology course in the United States. Being home

exposed me to Hong Kong's hidden marine biodiversity and how it

intertwines with the livelihoods of our coastal people. Through exploring

our backyard waters, I developed a deeper connection to my city.

About Lauren Man laurenman.wixsite.com @laurman34

Lauren Man was born and raised in Hong Kong and is currently pursuing a

marine biology degree at the University of California, Los Angeles. She

loves exploring the relationship between people and place, and how the

natural environment shapes people's sense of belonging.

73

“Don’t look down on Hong Kong corals!”

The early morning light rays streamed through the clear water, casting

reflections onto the large mat of stony corals. The water was just warm

enough to swim in without a wetsuit, and the waves gently rocked me about

like a baby. Equipped with a snorkel and a weight belt, I could move in all 3

dimensions of the water column, but I chose to exhale and sink to the coralcovered

seafloor. Tiny blue and yellow fish swam past me, and the turquoise

stretched on as far as I could see, speckled with a coral branch here and an

urchin spike there.

This was the quintessential image of the tropical island life, yet I wasn’t on

vacation in Maldives, French Polynesia or the Carribean. I was back home in

Hong Kong, one of the most populous and polluted cities in the world, and

unable to leave because of the coronavirus pandemic.

Chek Chau

74

Spanning only 24 miles wide and 14 miles vertically, I’d always felt like Hong

Kong was limited in what it could offer me. It was a geographically

minuscule, self-contained semi-autonomous city, and I had spent my last 20

years zooming around the same subway lines and hiking in the same country

parks. Opportunities seemed limited for an aspiring marine biologist like

me, and by 18, I felt completely beat down by Hong Kong’s high-pressure

education system and was growing increasingly wary of totalitarian China’s

growing influence over Hong Kong. That’s why I left my city in 2018 to study

at a college in the United States, where the land seemed to stretch on forever

in the horizon.

However, when COVID-19 struck, I ended up flying back to my

hometown, opting for familiarity and a sense of security in these

uncertain times. After 6 months back, a creeping sense of ennui was

beginning to set in. So, when my internship invited me on a field trip

out at sea along Hong Kong’s Tolo Channel, I jumped at the

opportunity to venture beyond my terrestrial limits. Although I wasn’t

allowed to help conduct the underwater experiment itself, I could

process their seawater samples, and best of all, got some free time to

snorkel in the waters of otherwise inaccessible islands.

Hong Kong is a hilly metropolis, but it is also an archipelago. Our 263

islands span 635 square miles of sea. We have an astonishing diversity

of marine and coastal habitats for such a small city, from the dolphinpopulated

estuaries of the west to the clear, oceanic waters on the east.

Our sampling site, Chek Chau, was an eastern outlying island far from

the urban core, and absolutely serene on this weekday autumn

morning.

I rose to the surface, took off my weight belt and hoisted myself back up

to the burning hot deck of the fishing boat.

“See anything interesting?” the captain asked.

“Yeah! I saw this sea-urchin-like creature that has short yellow spikes,

hiding under little bits of algae.”

Sa daam ( 沙膽 )

75

The name of the sea urchin was sa daam in Cantonese. Throughout the field

trip, while I waited for my labmates to complete the underwater

experiment, I would ask him for the names of various marine organisms I

chanced on during my snorkeling adventures, and he always had a name for

me. The corals beneath our boat were “flat-brain” corals, those in checkered

formations were “beehive” corals, and those that looked like deer horns

were “staghorn” coral. He didn’t have a scientific name to provide for me

and told me the fishermen slang term for each animal instead, but it felt

more personal that way, like I was being taught a secret language.

“My English is not good,” he explained. “I never finished secondary school.

I only knew their names because I grew up in a fishing village—Sam Mun

Tsai, the one our boat departed from this morning.”

Sam Mun Tsai ( 三門仔 )

76

The driver spoke of his childhood free-diving for scallops, and how his

adolescent self would fish underwater breathing air pumped down from

the surface. As an adult, he made his living by being a bus driver, but

occasionally picked up boat-driving gigs in his spare time.

“It’s great that you can study marine conservation and learn more about

the seas here,” He said in the middle of the field trip, referencing my

marine biology major, “At your age, I didn’t study hard enough to go to

college, but it didn’t matter, because I had to work and support my

family anyways.”

Despite his lack of formal education, he knew multitudes about our

local seas, in stark contrast to my ignorance of Hong Kong marine life.

Studying in California, I was familiar with sunburst anemones, kelp

forests and sea otters, and could tell you everything about trophic

cascades and ecological theories, but I knew so little about my

homeland’s waters. Why did I venture across the Pacific Ocean in

pursuit of a marine biology degree without even looking in the waters in

my backyard?

After that field trip, I decided to enroll in a community science volunteer

program established by a local non-profit conservation organization.

They were recruiting divers to help take photos of transects laid out over

coral reefs at a marine park. I had not SCUBA-dived in four years, but I

was desperate to learn more about the biodiversity of Hong Kong.

Before getting to dive, we had to attend a briefing session about the

corals of our city.

“Hong Kong has 84 coral species within our tiny territory, which is more

than that of the entire Carribean Sea,” The lecturer said. “However, Hong

Kong waters are a stressful environment for corals to live in.”

Located at the edge of the tropics, Hong Kong waters become a little

chilly for corals. Aside from low temperatures, the destruction of coastal

habitats by overfishing, dredging, reclamation and sewage discharge

wiped out 80% of the corals in Hong Kong’s Tolo Channel in the 1980s.

I sighed. This sounded more like the Hong Kong I was familiar with.

Even though the field site I visited with my internship was quite pristine,

my city was imprinted in my brain as a land of contaminants. I

remember the countless times where I would walk by the harbour where

small fishing boats and yachts mingled over the glistening, filmy

seawater, and smell the most curious odor of fish mixed with gasoline. I

recalled hiking up to a viewpoint over a secluded beach, and seeing the

sand absolutely obscured by plastic trash with labels ranging from

Mandarin, Vietnamese, and Cantonese.

77

But things are taking a turn for the better. Sewage discharge became

regulated, and recently, researchers have been coaxing the recovery of these

corals by outplanting coral recruits in parts of the Tolo Channel, with a

restoration success rate of 80%.

“Despite all the stressors, both natural and human-caused, these hardy

corals have survived the odds and are thriving in their current situation,”

the lecturer announced. “Don’t give up on Hong Kong corals!”

*

I bit into my SCUBA regulator and let the air out of my buoyancy control

device, letting gravity pull me and my oxygen tank down. We descended

towards the coral restoration project, a large metal structure that stuck out

from the seafloor.

Baby staghorn coral grew entwined with metal poles, reaching up towards

the light at the surface. Shrimps crawled in and out of sight, hiding within

the corals as a refuge. Tiny fish swarmed around the coral polyps, nibbling

at bits of algae. The restored corals provided the structure needed to house

so many creatures. Thanks to the work of marine scientists and divers, they

managed to nurture so much abundance.

Two contradicting images of Hong Kong constantly flit about my head. One

is a land of hopelessness, a wasteland that offered me nothing and a place I

would do well to get far away from. The other is a land of hidden surprises,

which revealed its full glory and abundance if you cared to look.

And if I wanted to preserve the beauty around me, I had to give the latter

image a chance. But nothing can be taken for granted. I had to give Hong

Kong a chance even when things don’t look right, just like how the

restorationists nurtured these corals to grow in this stressful environment.

Wandy Cheng

Pages of Hong Kong

Illustration

78

79

80

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82

Wandy Cheng

Toronto, Canada

After being uprooted from Hong Kong since I was 10, I travelled back to

the city periodically throughout my teenage years and early adulthood.

These sketchbook spreads were drawn when I visited during different

seasons in 2016 and 2018. As an illustration student at the time, I was

enthusiastic about documenting every aspect of my travel, practicing

perspective and composition with urban sketching. It wasn’t until

recent years that I connected the dots between my artistic style with my

upbringing in an urban landscape unique to Hong Kong, gradually

unpacking how it shaped my identity from an early age. Looking back

in 2021, these chaotic snapshots feel like a soothing, calming balm

against the true chaos of reality today.

About Wandy Cheng wandycheng.com @wandy_cheng

Wandy Cheng (she/her) is a multidisciplinary artist from Hong Kong

currently based in Toronto, Canada. Her studio work embodies

contrasting textures and repeated patterns both on paper and with clay.

Her artistic practice is an exploration of the interactions between

interior spaces and exterior facades. Particularly, she is interested in

how lived experiences are shaped within the confines of physical

environments. Wandy is also passionate about art and culture, and has

experience working a number of years at a public arts organization to

help bring community-engaged installations to life.

83

84

Christina Young

Let’s go yum cha!

3D render

Christina Young

New York, USA

Carts are piled high with steaming hot dishes and pushed by old ladies

that aggressively call you leng lui [ 靚女 ] / leng jai [ 靚仔 ] to persuade you

to buy something from their cart. You and your cousin are given the

stamp card to hunt down the coveted ha cheong [ 虾肠 ] since it's always

sold out by the time the cart gets to your table. When it comes time to

get the bill, war breaks out between the elders as they fight over who gets

to pay. But big auntie already "went to the bathroom" 20 mins ago and

beat everyone to the punch.

About Christina Young thebaobae.com @thebaobaeshop

Christina is a 3rd generation Chinese American from Queens, NYC.

She's an illustrator, 3D artist, and creator of The Bao Bae, an online shop

dedicated to sharing and encouraging cultural pride. She designs

stickers, pins, apparel, and more, inspired by growing up Asian.

85

86

Christina Young

豆豉鯪魚

3D render

87

歲月

在我的童年的时候

上海是一个蝈蝈笼

我在她的怀里睡着

十六年后终于醒了

在我的青年的时候

上海是一生的下游

出国的时刻在手前

我脱离了沪的桎梏

二十一岁的我旅英

在地下餐厅食韩餐

嘴里的烟令我念沪

肚里的酒令我悲伤

二十二岁的我係港

我告诉她 : 我愛你

维港复 : 我也愛你

最終無再次见到佢

依家嘅我再次归港

我问她 : 咱有多久

我唔係逃逸的勾留

我唔係永远的家乡

Now and Then

When I was a child

Shanghai was a cicada cage.

I fell asleep in her arms.

Finally I woke up sixteen years later.

When I was young

Shanghai was downstream from my life.

The time to go abroad was in arms reach.

I broke free of the shackles of Shanghai.

When I was twenty-one years old in England

I ate Korean food in an underground restaurant.

The smoke in my mouth made me miss Shanghai.

The wine in my stomach commands despair.

When I was twenty-two years old in Hong Kong.

I told her: I love you.

The Harbour replied: I love you too.

And I never saw her again.

Now I have returned to Hong Kong once more

I asked her: how long do we have?

I am not a stopover for your escape

I am not a forever home

88

Brandon Chu

Hong Kong

I wrote this poem in Chinese first - mixing both Mandarin and

Cantonese since I grew up as a Canadian in Shanghai but with a

Cantonese family. With the message I was trying to convey, it just

seemed natural, though it may be a little awkward to read. This mostly

talks about wanting to be away, getting away, coming back, and not

feeling like you belong and the experience many of us have of finding

community while overseas.

About Brandon Chu

@brxndonbrandoff

Primarily a photographer and illustrator I also do some writing on the

side, especially since returning to Hong Kong from Toronto. My writing

in terms of content and delivery takes a lot of inspiration from

Palestinian poetry, which deal a lot with Love, Land and Loss. I think

that is something a lot of us can relate to.

89

One of the ways that I

reconcile with my Cantonese

American identity is going

back to things in my

childhood. This piece is of

Chinatown, and reminds me

of the many stores I would go

to, with my mom and dad. As

an adult, I've realized that

these small businesses were

places where my parents

could feel accepted and less

foreign in a Western country.

These stores aren't the most

modern looking stores but

they serve so much to the

community, that I wanted to

celebrate them; I want to

preserve them and share

them.

Brenda Chi

Brenda Chi

Between Hill & Broadway, Chinatown LA

Digital illustration

Brendachi.com @brendachiart

Landscapes of Blood and Smoke 血煙山水圖

The two poems I present capture the range of my Cantonese-

American experience through the collective trauma and intimate

mundanity of daily life. Subtle and explicit violences are inflicted

upon the Asian diaspora at the same time that magnificent

childhood memories are created. A child can melt into the

cigarette smoke of San Francisco's Chinatown while his mother

is being gunned down next door. As I wrote these poems, I kept in

mind the generations of Asian diaspora – Taishanese railroad

workers, Korean business owners, Japanese veterans, my parents

– who have given their lives, literally and figuratively, for the

prosperity of their children.

Masters of Chinatown

The great courtyard, humble meeting-ground

of strategists and gossipers––gray-capped elders.

Two men smoke chess pieces on ashtrays and

command cigarettes on stone tables.

The air puffs with red-gold effervescence,

Wisps of tobacco and discursive silence.

Old men surround these generals, one hand cradling

the hip and the other clenching

Either folded newspapers

or lottery tickets.

The occasional child—me—

joins them, stroking my thin gray beard.

Inhaling the second-hand

erudition of their crudeness,

I analyze the battlefield and break

the only rule of observation:

I remark and strategize from

the backseat of this

92

War chariot.

These peasant warlords and

Unstudied sages––

The exiled Harbin poet,

The southern revolutionary,

my grandfather the cobbler––

Are all gods in my little descendant eyes.

How to Deal with a Virus: Fever of the Yellowish Sort

shoot me deader than dead,

a finger gun flashing white:

POW!

i look so cute clinging cold

to stained pavement;

even the headlines say EIGHT

EXOTIC DOCILE CORPSES;

american cities american drool,

killer fed up and we deserved it, where

do we belong what do we have to give

to belong,

even with blood on the tracks

& blood in Germany

& blood in California

& blood in Georgia,

you eat our food

in our enclaves

and hunt us down

like deer & whore, but it is

okay because

it could be worse.

About Yui Jit Kwong

Born in Hong Kong and raised throughout the US, I now study at

the University of Toronto where I spend more time writing than

working. I hope we can all just get along.

93

94

Karen Kar Yen Law

Toronto, Canada

Karen Kar Yen Law (she/her) is a first generation Cantonese Chinese-

Canadian who lives and practices in Tkaronto (Toronto), Ontario. Law

is a recent graduate from Queen’s University with a BFA (Honours) and

BEd. Upon graduation, she was awarded the Andre Bieler Prize for the

achievement of the highest performance in studio work. Her dual

background in visual art and education has informed an artistic practice

that is centered around reflection, discovery, and dialogue specifically

around topics of race and culture. Law’s practice utilizes printmaking

and painting to create two-dimensional abstract works. Law’s work has

been exhibited online and throughout Katarokwi (Kingston), Ontario

including the Union Gallery, the Isabel Bader Centre for Performing

Arts, and the 12 Cat Arts Collective.

Karen Kar Yen Law ( 她 ) 是第一代粵裔加拿大華僑 , 現於安大略省多倫

多居住及工作。她從女王大學畢業 , 取得藝術 ( 榮譽 ) 學士及教育學

士學位 , 畢業時獲頒 Andre Bieler Prize, 以表揚她在工作室藝術的優

秀表現。視覺藝術和教育的雙重背景造就了她的藝術模式 , 其作品就

種族及文化等議題作出反思、探索及對話。她透過版畫印刷及繪畫 ,

創作抽象的二維作品。她的作品曾在網上及安大略省京士頓

Katarokwi 展出 , 當中包括 Union Gallery、Isabel Bader Centre for

Performing Arts 及 12 Cat Arts Collective。

karenkylaw.com

@karenkylaw

95

Most of your work is

abstract, but you have

been experimenting

with representational

elements in your

recent work. How do

you decide when you

want to marry those

two elements or use

one over the other?

你一般都是創作抽象作

品 , 但近期則嘗試在作

品加入具象性

(representational) 的元

素。你是怎樣決定要雙

管齊下 , 還是二選其

一 ?

I find painting abstractly

has allowed me to create

works that are visually

palatable and can pique

interest in a large range

of viewers. I think the

result of my artistic

practice is what looks to

be abstract because I am

not often concerned with

the viewer’s (or my own)

need to recognize my

source images. When I

am mark making,

making artistic

interventions, or

deciding what materials

to use, I hope to

metaphor the real

processes of race and

discrimination in

Canada.

以抽象的方式繪畫 , 可以讓我創作視覺上較易入口的作品 , 令更廣泛的觀

眾感興趣。我認為我的藝術模式看似抽象 , 因為我不理會觀眾 ( 或是自

己 ) 能否認出圖片來源。當我隨便畫畫 , 作出藝術介入 , 或決定用甚麼物

料時 , 我都希望可以隱喻加拿大種族歧視的真實過程。

Karen Kar Yen Law

Family Meal

Acrylic and oil on canvas

98

Karen Kar Yen Law

Leave


99

What is the idea behind the title of your series, Unassimilable?

Unassimilable 系列的名稱背後有甚麼構思 ?

In this project, I am capturing specifically the stereotypes and sentiments

that have followed Asian diasporic peoples in the West. Since the

immigration of Chinese labourers to Canada and the US, Chinese people

have been labeled as sneaky, immoral, docile, dirty people.

Assimilation has been a word I have reflected on for a very long time. In

Canada, we have official policies on multiculturalism. From a young age in

school, we are taught diversity is strength and our country is a cultural

mosaic as opposed to America where immigrants must assimilate into

dominant American culture like a melting pot.

One of the main sources I used for this project was an 1879 cover of Canada

Illustrated News. The cartoon shows a tall, bearded man, wearing a tall hat

and suit holding (or pushing) a small Chinese man with a long face and

Karen Kar Yen Law

Working Hard


braided hair. The white man in the

cartoon is Amor De Cosmos, a

prominent politician of the time in

British Columbia. Below the

cartoon, some text provides a better

understanding of the altercation

being shown:

THE HEATHEN CHINEE IN

BRITISH COLUMBIA.

AMOR DE COSMOS, i.e.:—The

Love of the World or the Lover of

Mankind.

Heathen Chinee:— Why you sendee

me offee?

A.D.C.:—Because you can’t or won’t

‘assimilate’ with us.

Heathen Chinee:— What is datee?

A.D.C.:—You won’t drink whiskey,

and talk politics and vote like us.

這項目反映離散西方的亞裔人士所

遭遇的刻板印象及觀點。自從華裔

勞工移民加拿大及美國 , 華人都被

標籤為偷偷摸摸、不道德、溫順及

骯髒的人。

我反思了「同化」這個詞語一段時

間。加拿大對多元文化實行官方政

策 , 我們從小就在學校被灌輸多元

化是一種力量、我們的國家是「文

化馬賽克」, 不像美國的「文化大

熔爐」, 需要將移民同化、融入美

國主流文化。

這項目的一個主要圖片來源是

Canadian Illustrated News 於 1879

年刊登的一個封面。該卡通描繪了

一個高個子、長了鬍子、戴高帽、

穿西裝的男人 , 他在碰 ( 或是在

推 ) 一個長臉、留辮子的華人。那

卡通描繪的白人是 Amor De

Cosmos, 卑詩省當時一位舉足輕

重的政治人物。下圖正是那卡通 ,

附上文字讓兩人的爭執內容更清晰

:

卑詩省的異教中國人

AMOR DE COSMOS : 世界的愛還

是人類的情人

異教中國人 : 你為甚麼要我走 ?

A.D.C.: 因為你不可以也不會同化

成我們一樣。異教中國人 : 為甚麼

這樣說 ?

異教中國人 : 為甚麼這樣說 ?

A.D.C.: 你不會跟我們一樣喝威士

忌、討論政治和投票。

102

When I read the accompanying text

for the cartoon, I was immediately

struck by the choice of the word

assimilate. Despite our country’s

contemporary take on

multiculturalism, the foundation of

this country is obviously racist

because it colonized a native

population, then strategically

promoted the settlement of white

Europeans. In the cartoon, De

Cosmos is frustrated by the inability

for the Chinese population to

assimilate. While historically this

sentiment was used against Chinese

immigrants to justify their treatment

and the policies that would

eventually prevent their entry to the

country all together, today Chinese

immigrants are praised for their

adaptability as shown in the model

minority myth. In my own

experience, I have struggled with

assimilation, feeling like I need to

trade in parts of myself to fit into

what is expected of me by my white

peers. Growing up, I accepted being

called a banana as a compliment but

now I see myself as unassimilable. I

refuse to trade in or compromise any

part of myself for a white settler

colonial project.

我閱讀卡通旁的文字時 , 同化一詞

即時給我留下印象。雖然我們國家

現時走多元文化主義 , 這國家的根

本很明顯是充滿種族歧視的 , 她殖

民了原居民 , 之後還策略性地推動

歐洲白人定居在此。De Cosmos 在

這卡通裡 , 對華人不能同化感到困

擾。雖然這觀點以往加諸於華裔移

民身上 , 是為了合理化其待遇及阻

止他們進入這國家的政策 , 但今天

華裔移民則因為適應能力高而被推

舉 , 模範少數這迷思也反映了這一

點。我的自身經歷中 , 也對同化也

有所掙扎 , 感覺好像要放棄自己的

一部分 , 換取白人同儕對我的期

望。成長時 , 我將黃皮白心當作讚

賞 , 但現在我認為自己不能夠被同

化。我不願意換走或折衷自己的一

部分 , 成為定居在此的白人的殖民

計畫。

Karen Kar Yen Law

Don’t Cause Trouble (page 104)l


Unassimilable draws upon

Canadian archival images from

the late 19th century. What is your

experience working in archives?

What is your process for selecting

images that resonate with you?

Unassimilable 取材於 19 世紀後期的

加拿大舊檔圖片。用舊檔創作是怎

樣的經歷 ? 你是怎樣選取能夠令你

有所共鳴的圖片 ?

During this project, I received

guidance from Dr. Joan M. Schwartz,

who is a specialist in photographic

archives and 19th century landscape

photography in Canada. The

intersections of our research

interests allowed Dr. Schwartz to

guide me through using the online

archives and images. Using keyword

searches and applying the

appropriate date filters I was able to

come across images related to the

Chinese diaspora in Canada. I

gathered many images, but

ultimately chose images for my

artwork that I felt displayed

sentiments that are still prevalent

today.

The Canadian Illustrated News

cartoon highlights stereotypical

depictions of Chinese immigrants

that are still recycled till this day. An

image of a Chinese fisherman in the

mid 20th century to me captures

ideas of labour and capital that even

our own communities have yet to

fully unpack. The idea that putting

our heads down and working to

accumulate wealth will somehow

free us from the oppression we

experience.

And finally, an image of a Chinese

family’s dining table. I have no

information on what occasion would

call for such an image of a set table

with food to be documented, but it

reminded me of my own mother’s

obsessive need to take pictures of

food during our holidays before we

eat. A Chinese family’s table set with

food documented nearly 100 years

ago is a reminder that food is not just

survival - it is joy and celebration.

我在這個項目得到 Joan M. Schwartz

博士的指導 , 她是加拿大舊圖片檔

案及 19 世紀風景攝影的專家。我們

的研究興趣有所相似 , 所以

Schwartz 博士可以透過網上檔案庫

及圖片指導我。利用關鍵詞搜尋 ,

並以適當的日期過濾結果 , 便可以

找到有關在加拿大的華人離散群眾

的圖片。我搜集了很多圖片 , 但最

終我只選用內容至今還很普遍的圖

片來創作。

The Canadian Illustrated News 卡通

描繪了對華裔移民的刻板印象 , 而

這些印象至今還存在。一幅二十世

紀中葉描繪華裔漁民的圖片 , 對我

來說反映了勞工跟金錢的概念 , 埋

首工作、累積財富似乎會將我們遭

受到的壓迫中解放出來 , 而這些概

念我們的群體至今還未完全理解。

最後是一個華裔家庭的飯桌的圖

片。我也沒有資料解釋是甚麼場

合 , 才會拍照紀錄了這張放滿食物

的餐桌。這照片是約 100 年前拍下

的 , 它提醒了我們食物不只是讓我

們活命 , 也是快樂和慶賀的象徵。

103

104

105

You describe that your images are

reproduced and brought into the

conversation with your own

relationship with the Chinese

Diaspora. Can you speak more

about that relationship?

你形容你的圖片是重製的 , 而且讓

你反思自己跟華裔離散經歷的關

係 , 可以解釋一下這種關係嗎 ?

My mother and father are

immigrants to Canada from Hong

Kong. Prior to their lives in Hong

Kong, both my mother’s and father’s

families originated from the

Guangdong province in China.

When I consider my relationship to

the Chinese diaspora, I contemplate

the conditions of my family’s

dispersal from China, I contemplate

my relationship to the homeland,

and I contemplate my relationship to

the hostland.

one rooted in white supremacy and

capitalism, and when I side with the

Indigenous struggle for

decolonization, I am in fact aligning

myself with anti-racism and

reciprocity. In short, my relationship

to the Chinese diaspora is

complicated. I do not have an

idealization of a return to my

homeland; however I am not satisfied

by the Canadian state.

I primarily consider China, and more

specifically the province of

Guangdong to be my homeland. My

family’s Cantonese culture originates

from Guangdong, and we have strong

ancestral ties there. Like the workers

from Guangdong who migrated to

Gum San (Gold Mountain) in search

of prosperity, my family experiencing

extreme poverty in the wake of the

Cultural Revolution migrated from

China to Hong Kong, and then to

Canada. My family’s movements

motivated by prosperity have

informed how I relate to my

hostland. Canada is a settler-colonial

state; as a settler, I live on stolen land

and am complicit in colonization.

While I acknowledge my complicity,

I also know that the Canadian state is

106

我主要認為中國 , 尤其是廣東省 , 是

我的祖國。我家族的粵文化源自廣

東 , 我們很重視祖先根源。像廣東的

移居到舊金山尋找財富的工人 , 我的

家族在文化大革命初期也非常貧窮 ,

於是從中國移居至香港 , 最後遷往加

拿大。我家族的遷徙是基於經濟原

因 , 這也影響我跟移入國的關係。加

拿大是定居殖民國家 , 我也是一個定

居在此的人 , 我住在偷來的土地上 ,

跟殖民者同流合污。雖然我承認自己

在此的角色 , 我也明白加拿大是建基

於白人至上主義和資本主義的國家 ,

當我支持原住民去殖民化時 , 我其實

也在支持反種族主義及互惠對等關

係。簡單來說 , 我跟華裔離散經歷的

關係很複雜。我沒期望返回祖籍國 ,

但我也不滿意加拿大。

Karen Kar Yen Law

Heathen Chinee

Silkscreen on rice paper

107

Karen Kar Yen Law

Heathen Chinee

Silkscreen on rice paper

Your works are elaborate layers of

both printmaking and painting,

and the results are starkly unique

images that transcend a single

genre. Yet, bold and

experimental color relationships

exist throughout all your work.

How did you develop this style?

你的作品以多層次的版畫印刷和繪

畫來製作 , 成果非常獨特 , 而且跨

越單一風格。然而 , 你的所有作品

都採用大膽、富實驗性的顏色 , 你

是怎樣建立這種風格的 ?

My training has a lot to do with the

development of my hybrid

printmaking and painting style. I

started as a painter and I still very

much enjoy the aesthetic and

technical aspects of paint

manipulation and experimental

paint applications. When I began

printmaking, I first began with

monoprinting on copper plates.

Technically speaking, this process is

very akin to painting. As I began to

work more with ink and other

printmaking media like silkscreen, it

became apparent that what I loved

about printmaking was the way

layers of colour could interact and

how easy gradients were to achieve.

Printmaking has allowed me to

experiment with colour theory in a

whole new way than just mixing

paint. I have a natural affinity

towards colour palettes that are high

in contrast and saturation. When I

used them in my practice, my hope is

that the colours will encourage

viewers to engage with the work.

我的訓練背景讓我發展了這種版畫

印刷和繪畫的合成風格。我以畫家

身分出身 , 但我很喜歡色彩操作和

實驗性的上色方法。我開始接觸版

畫印刷時 , 首先嘗試銅板製作單刷

版畫 , 這過程技術上跟繪畫很相

似。而當我接觸更多墨彩和絲網印

刷等其他版畫印刷媒介後 , 我發現

自己喜歡版畫印刷是因為不同層次

的顏色可以互動 , 而色彩的漸變也

能容易達成。

版畫印刷讓我以全新方式將色彩理

論作不同嘗試 , 不只是混合不同色

彩。我本身很喜歡高對比及高飽和

度的色彩。我希望透過採用這些色

彩 , 讓觀眾投入作品。

How did you achieve the beautiful

mixed-media layering quality in

“Don’t Cause Trouble”? It almost

looks digital!

Don’t Cause Trouble 的混合媒體層次

感是怎樣做的 ? 效果很像數碼製

作。

I’ve never really thought to describe

my work as such, but I can see the

connection. I enjoy using geometric

shapes and clean masking

techniques that produce a clean-cut

quality like digital work. The letters

are not stenciled, but I have a

personal interest in lettering, so I am

flattered you suggest my work looks

digital.

我沒想過自己的作品可以這樣形

容 , 但我可以看到兩者的關係。我

喜歡用幾何圖案及簡潔的遮色手

法 , 創作出像數碼作品的清澈俐落

的效果。那些文字不是用版面模子

來製作的 , 但我對手寫文字感興

趣 , 我很高興你說我的作品看似數

碼製作。

110

What sort of pan-Asian or pan-Sino

solidarity movements exist in Toronto,

where you live? Where do you see the

role of art in organizing playing for

years to come?

多倫多有那些泛亞裔或泛星加玻團結運

動 ? 你在哪裡居住 ? 你認為藝術將來在組

織這些活動有甚麼角色 ?

The most notable Pan-Asian solidarity

organizations I follow in Toronto are Tea

Base and Butterfly. Teabase is a community

art space in Chinatown that advocates for

larger social justice movements and specific

Chinatown preserving actions. Butterfly is

an advocacy and support network for Asian

and migrant sex workers. Right now,

Butterfly is advocating to stop a provincial

bill that will expand police powers under

the guise combatting human trafficking.

When you ask about the role of art in

organizing my mind immediately jumps to

Toni Cade Bambara’s quote, “The role of the

artist is to make the revolution irresistible”.

As artists continue to lean into their

identity politics, I think artists will begin to

see that we are all working and creating in

solidarity to break down the systems that

politicize us.

在我留意的多倫多泛亞裔團結組織中 , 最

值得一提的是 Tea

Base 及

Butterfly。Teabase 是在唐人街的一個社區

藝術空間 , 提倡更大型的社會公義運動及

某些唐人街保育行動。Butterfly 則是一個

給亞裔及移民性工作者的倡導及支援網

絡。Butterfly 現時正反對一項省級議案 ,

該議案以打擊人口販運為名 , 增加警權。

你問及藝術在組織的角色時 , 我立即想起

Toni Cade Bambara 的話 ——「藝術家的角

色就是令革命無法抗拒」。只要藝術家繼

續投身他們的身分認同政治 , 我認為藝術

家將會明白到我們全都團結一致地工作、

創作 , 以打破將我們政治化的系統。

111

Cherie Kwok

To new chapters


112

Cherie Kwok

Birmingham, UK

Inspired by the idea that a person’s life is split into different chapters, I

created this piece to reflect areas of my own life. My parents are both

from Hong Kong and they moved to England in the late 90s to settle in

the Forest of Dean where they started our family. Growing up seeing the

beautiful nature and scenery around our home in England, and also

experiencing the bustling atmosphere of Hong Kong, have been sources

of inspiration in my work. The doors represent me being able to access

the cultures that make up my identity. In the centre, is a figure which

represents me leaving home to pursue my dreams of studying

illustration at university.

About Cherie Kwok

cherie.kwok.co.uk

I am a British Born Chinese illustrator, who is currently studying at

Birmingham City University. I am drawn to roles that give back to

communities, and I strive to be an illustrator who makes a positive

difference. Working with others on exciting projects is something I

really enjoy doing. In the future, I would love to work in editorial, print,

and packaging, and I also wish to keep telling stories about my Chinese

heritage through my work.

"

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The Players

「燈光裡飛馳失意的孩子 …」

- 達明一派

The neon prisms of our postcard skyline collapse, one by one. Shards of

glass fly slow-motion across the screen like blown dandelions – like children

from the 80s dispatched across different oceans. This romanticizing of our

collective fate still lights my fire, still sends me sprinting across the city

collecting old scenes, new frames.

I’m back, thirty years removed, with a blend of love and vengeance that

weaves past pedestrians on a crowded footbridge on a Saturday night, just to

confront the harbour, the hazy tops of office towers with glowing

trademarks dripping gold onto dark waters. The sky punctured by the bank’s

ghostly-white needle.

I’m back.

To endure your posing the same pose year after year, blurring the patterns of

stars that spell out the people’s hopes. To endure your misrepresentation of

us on commercial souvenirs with stiff, sexless postures like the suited civil

servants who posed for photo the day they came back to announce the sale

of integrity, the return of prosperity, the restoration of national insecurity.

The kid you should have killed in ‘89 is back, with one foot outside the cage,

taking notes on your fears and the ways you shrivel.

I have my place amongst the players. We hover an inch above the pavement,

change colours under smog and streetlamps, dance to cassette tapes that

conceal the revolution with love songs. Sometimes we flicker. Sometimes we

burn and make tight turns onto new avenues, nursing each other’s wounds,

even if only to slow the collapse. Escape remains an option tonight, while

the party continues. She’s picked a purple dress for the occasion, and I’ve

dyed the blade of my left brow pink. Exuberant, in my new-found

expression, knowing I would have risked a lot more had I lived here all my

life.

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Atom Cheung

Hong Kong

"The Players" is a prose poem from a book-in-progress which chronicles

my interactions with music by the Hong Kong pop duo 達明一派 Tat

Ming Pair, whose music carry a subtle political undertone. The

Cantonese line quoted in the piece comes from their 1987 song 今夜星

光燦爛 . Tat Ming's music is what keeps me connected to Hong Kong

during my years living in Toronto between 1989 and 2009. My piece is

also a personal response to the 2019 Hong Kong protests and the

subsequent National Security Law in 2020.

About Atom Cheung atomcheung.com @atomscores

Atom Cheung writes poetry and love letters. He lives in Hong Kong

where he works as a radio presenter on RTHK. The experimental

podcast Atomic Heart is where he reads poems and daydreams out loud.

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我有我心底故事

I have a story deep down in my heart

Classic Cantopop Recommendations

If you have ever been judged for listening to Cantopop, this tailored list

of classic songs reminds you to listen to your heart, soul, and spirit. You

are meant to tell your story because no one else will. Never be ashamed

of who you are and sing along with Beyond “ 我有我心底故事 ”!

1987 我的故事 — 陳百強

1980 上海灘 — 葉麗儀

1986 當年情 — 張國榮

1989 夕陽之歌 — 梅艷芳

1992 還是覺得你最好 — 張學友

1991 不再猶豫 — Beyond

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Pamela Kwong

New York, USA

I grew up listening to 80’s/90’s Cantopop songs and so, I selected six

songs that are a source of solace and wisdom. Although I have been

judged for listening to Cantopop, I hold onto my father’s stories of

browsing the latest Hong Kong records and cassette tapes in a NYC

Chinatown music store, which no longer exists. This nostalgia ties into

a particular time when Hong Kong entertainment was experiencing a

wave. The Cantonese diaspora is vast and scattered, but our songs

connect us back together. Our stories will live on if we keep sharing

them.

About Pamela Kwong

@pamonologues

Pamela Kwong is a Cantonese American artist of life. She writes, draws,

creates and binds journals. She is on a journey of exploring languages,

shaping up her voice, and finding ways to weave stories with words. In

her free time, she wanders around and goes down a rabbit hole of books,

songs, and coffee.

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Adrienne Hugh

I love oyster sauce

Digital manipulation

Adrienne Hugh

Hong Kong

The farther I have moved away from my cultural and ancestral home, the more

desperately I try to grasp at things that connect me to it. One of the more

visceral ways I do so is through food. The smells, flavors and colors bring me

such joy and immediate connections to home and are a crucial part of my

identity.

I love oyster sauce" is a series of four photos, which I combined together into

a single graphic.

The process for creating this piece was a pretty natural one – it started off as a

genuine interest and love for the sauce itself and the iconic packaging. Oyster

sauce is such a staple in Chinese cooking, and for me the Lee Kum Kee oyster

sauce is iconic. I decided to recreate the graphic on the bottle in the form of a

photograph – replacing the existing figure (the illustrated woman) and

placing myself as the subject of the graphic in the exact pose and style of the

original image. I think this does a number of things: 1. It draws the viewer's

attention to a very ordinary, everyday object, and draws the eye to an often

overlooked design element on the bottle. 2. The piece plays around with the

reality of the oyster sauce as an everyday household item that becomes much

more personalized. The oval frame around the photograph is also intentional

– mimicking the graphic on the original bottle, but with a contemporary twist.

Overall the piece is an homage to aesthetics and graphics of the bottle, and a

love letter to the product itself.

About Adrienne Hugh

adriennehugh.com

Adrienne Hugh (she/her) is a visual creative with an obsession for tea. Having

lived in the US, China and Hong Kong throughout her life, her creative

practice is a means by which she connects with the duality of her cultural

identities.

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Adrienne Hugh

Guanyin


This piece depicts one of my

favorite statues at an outdoor

temple that I frequent whenever I

return to Hong Kong. The temple

is by the water and I always feel so

serene while I am there.

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金鱼婆婆 Goldfish Granny

In this story, I reflect on the tender relationship I had with

a Cantonese woman who cared for me when I was young.

Goldfish Granny allowed me to feel comfortable in my

Cantonese heritage, something that I've always felt a bit

detached from. Even her name, when spoken with my

family, is a combination of Mandarin and Cantonese (we

say "goldfish" in Mandarin but "grandmother" in

Cantonese) and speaks to my identity as someone stuck

in a liminal space of these adjacent cultures. I hope to

continue making art and writing stories that explore the

complicated but hopeful relationship I have with being

Canto so I can connect with fellow Canto cuties and

deepen my understanding of our history and fight for

liberation.

I never learned her real name. She lived in a grand home

with a lacquered brown door and a fish tank brimming

with puffy red cichlids. Her floors were wooden and

glossy and I would lie on them for hours at a time,

thinking of ways I could speak to the fish. With

unblinking eyes, they’d approach me from behind the

glass and sing bubbles into the water, their pouts

opening and closing. 魚 , they said, 魚 , 魚 , 魚 . Wo, I’d

respond. Me, me, me.

After I learned how to introduce myself to them, I’d

spend the rest of the afternoons trailing Goldfish

Granny. While she tended to the weeds in her garden, I

searched for stones and hid the smoothest ones in her

pockets. That way, she wouldn’t miss me when I had to

go home for the day—it would plop out at bedtime and

she would know that I’d been thinking of her. I hoped

she knew this.

Most afternoons, she would tuck me into bed and brush

the hair from my eyes, letting the sunlight trickle onto

my lids as I fell asleep. After an hour, I’d wake to the

sound of the blender and the sweet smell of banana and

milk: her way of showing me she’d missed me too. After

sipping at the froth and then gulping down the rest, I’d

kiss the jade bracelet at the bedside table and join

Goldfish Granny at the front step. She’d help me slip into

a jacket while I fumbled with my shoelaces, glancing at

the fish as they laughed at my shoddy efforts. We’d walk

hand in hand to the grocery store a few blocks away,

sharing this bit of warmth as the sun sank lower into the

sky. I’d count the lines on the ground, gripping her hand

tight to hurdle myself over the larger cracks.

122

The first time we entered the market, the

fish were large and gray, and several were

crammed into a single rectangular tank.

They butt heads and slapped at one

another, mouths gaping and pleading,

but I couldn’t understand them.

Sometimes I’d cry, spluttering I don’t

know I don’t know! I didn’t know how to

end their misery so I would weep into

Granny’s stomach while pointing at

them. Maybe she knew how to comfort

them just as she knew more Cantonese,

knew how to make banana milk, knew

how to clean dirt beneath my fingernails

and how to say good child in a way that

made me feel like I was born from her

own blood. But she’d forgotten how to

speak to the sea the same year she left

home and moved into this land-locked

country. So, we rushed to the other aisles

and picked out lemon tea, sausages for

clay pot rice, green onions, and chicken

for soup. After shelling out a few bills,

she stuffed the leftover coins into my

pocket and we walked home in silence. I

counted out two quarters, a dime, and

three nickels: their weight the same as

the stones I collected for Goldfish

Granny.

When my parents arrived at nightfall, I

bid goodnight to the cichlids. I pressed

my hands to my cheeks, mirroring the

open-mouthed way they gawked at me,

and said 再見 , 再見 ! We’ll meet again.

For granny, I said I will miss you. On the

car ride home, I foraged my jean pockets

for the jangling coins, my treasure, and

instead fished out a smooth sliver of

granite. In wo, there is you. Ni, 你 , ni.

About Kristie Song

@chinesefreckles

Kristie Song is a Sino American writer,

artist, and journalist from Southern

California. She is often daydreaming

about childhood memories and likes to

create work from a space of nostalgia.

Her work is featured in Canto Cutie,

Ouch Magazine, and is forthcoming in

the Jack Straw Anthology.

123

Lok

Cheung

House

by

PÚCA

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125

126

127

Lok Cheung House is a zine I created in

June 2020 in collaboration with my friend,

David Kennedy. It was a response to a

tourist’s guidebook of Hong Kong I saw in

a book shop in Ireland that only focused

on and glamourised the most wealthy and

westernised districts of Hong Kong. These

depictions differ from what I remember of

the city when I visited my family in Hong

Kong.

I created this photo series with the

intention to show others how I see the

Hong Kong that I know, and design my

own version of a “tourist’s guidebook of

Hong Kong”. The photos in the zine were

taken from my way back from the Wong

Tai Sin area, where my grandma lives, to

Mong Kok, where I was staying at the time.

It is also a record of my personal journey in

attempting to reconnect with my Chinese

relatives in Hong Kong.

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129

130

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Being an Irish-born Chinese,

I've always felt a sense of

displacement in both societies,

constantly questioning which

society I identify with as I'm

seen as an “alien” in both

countries. The pressure to

comply with two different

cultures and beauty standards

led to self-loathing and

confusion. The language

barrier between my family and

I makes opening up about my

inner struggles non-existent.

The most apparent distinction

about me that Asian people

would immediately notice

would be my tattoos. A young,

moderately tattooed woman is

not socially acceptable and is

seen as a taboo. Self expression

is not encouraged and is

perceived as a nuisance.

Breaking the norms of society

has a toll on one’s mental

health as negative reactions

can sink deep and become a

personal burden.

I hope to use my work to

discuss the struggles of Asian

diaspora who were born into

Western society, and highlight

how the West still exploits

fragments of our ethnicity,

culture and tradition.

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About PÚCA

puca.myportfolio.com @im_puca

Born and raised in Waterford city, Ireland, PÚCA is a self taught graphic

designer. PÚCA likes to keep things clean and bold, so she uses pencil

with marker or ink, then uses Photoshop to complete her designs.

PÚCA now freelances in Cork city and likes to explore different forms of

crafts like photography.

In 2019, PÚCA had a solo exhibition at Alchemy cafe, Cork city, took

part in a zine fair in St. Peter’s church, Cork city, and had a stall at

“Cofeté”, a music event in Cork city. In 2020 she completed her first zine

“Lok Cheung house” in collaboration with her friend.

PÚCA’s inspiration comes from her inner child, 1930’s cartoons, graffiti

and tattoo culture.

PÚCA believes in an inclusive approach to art where all forms of art

should be celebrated, and that there are no limitations in imagination.

PÚCA hopes to keep learning and sharing her journey of self creativity.

133

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Tsz Kam

Waterworks II

Acrylic on cotton rag mounted on panel

When I was a child, I

lived in a small public

housing unit with my

grandparents and my

uncle in the Wong Tai

Sin district in Hong

Kong. I shared a room

with

my

grandmother and my

uncle. My uncle slept

on the upper bunk

and I slept on the

lower bunk with my

grandmother. My

grandfather smoked

incessantly, so no one

wanted to share a

room with him. There

were a lot of things in

our bedroom, plastic

bags stacked on top

of plastic boxes.

There was a window

behind it all, I might

have climbed up the

mountain of stuff to

look out of it a few

times. The view was

just the residential

building opposite to

ours. The buildings were white and pastel orange and they were all

the same. I imagine the people from the other side got the same view

when they looked out of their windows.

We had more stuff than what we stacked against the window. We

also had other things stored temporarily on our beds during

daytime. My uncle had an impressive collection of vintage toys and

comic books, most of it were these really well designed vintage

matchbox cars made in Japan by the famous toymaker Tomy and the

various McDonald’s Happy Meal toys from the Hong Kong line

throughout the years. Grandma just had a bunch of clothing from

when both of her oldest daughters immigrated to America. They

were going to be my hand-me-downs when I fit, or so she told

everyone. Every night around ten, we’d start moving the boxes from

our bunk beds to the dining table. After taking a hot shower and

washing off the grime that stuck to my skin due to the humid

weather, I’d climb onto the lower bunk. If my uncle didn’t have too

much work (his actual work plus coming up with the perfect combo

for his weekend horse betting), he’d read me a bedtime story. He

bought me a collection of illustrated Aesop’s Fables and other

animal stories that he’d read from. When grandma was done with

her chores in the kitchen, she’d come to bed and pat me as she sang

me lullabies.

138

I slept between the wall and my

grandma. There was no space

between the wall and the bed

because the bed was custom built

in by my second aunt’s husband,

who is an interior designer and

carpenter. The wall was cool,

offering relief from the oppressive

heat in the long, humid summer.

I’d often stretch my leg up against

the wall to absorb the chill.

During the summer, instead of

cotton sheets, we slept on bamboo

mats. When I woke up, I’d find

ghosts of the crisscross imprints

on my skin from the bamboo

weave.

Sometimes I’d wake in the middle

of the night for the bathroom. I’d

usually stay in bed for a good

while, struggling between the

need to pee and not wanting to

get up. You see, the pile against

the window made strange figures

and silhouettes in the dark,

sometimes flickers of light

reflected from somewhere looked

like an eye, or I’d imagine a face, or

a pile that began to look like a

figure moving. When I really

couldn’t suppress my need to pee,

I’d climb over my grandma,

careful not to wake her, and put

my warm little feet upon the icy

ceramic tile. If it’s around 1:30

AM, I’d find a tall, slender

silhouette walking to the

bathroom too. It was my

grandfather getting out of his

room to shower before bed.

Grandpa went to bed the latest

and woke up later than all of us. I

think it’s because all his favorite

shows from the English channel

came on late, and he had to watch

it all before he went to sleep. I

didn’t particularly like the living

room at night because we had an

altar. The altar was lit by a few red

light bulbs, which made the dark

living room quite ominous. The

altar also directly faced the front

door, which made it look like

something was about to come

through under this low, red glow.

If I wanted to use the bathroom, I

had to walk right past the altar.

My grandma always told me the

altar was good, we venerated our

ancestors, the god of land, and

the god of justice; they were there

to watch over us and give us good

fortune. Every time I walked past

the bathroom at night, I’d mutter

under my breath a small “ 唔該借

歪 ” / “excuse me”. I didn’t want to

offend these important figures

with my nightly urination. If I

was too scared after peeing to

make the trip back to my spot

between the wall and my

grandma, I’d quickly run into my

grandpa’s room and watch TV

with him until I felt brave enough

to go into the living room again.

——

This was a recollection I wrote in

early 2020 for my painting Silent

Witness’s Triumph. The painting

depicts two beastial entities as

one single grotesque figure. One

entity is a pegasus and the other

is some kind of bovine. I took

inspiration from the Chinese

mythology about how seven days

after someone’s death, Ox-Head

and Horse-Face will escort their

spirit home for one last meal

prepared by their family. Ox-

Head and Horse-Face always

come in a pair, and are seen as

agents of the underworld in

Chinese folk religion, a very

popular belief system that still

permeates Hong Kong culture.

Silent Witness was the name of a

thoroughbred champion sprinter

in the Hong Kong Jockey Club.

Early in its career in 2003, many

HKers were very proud of this

139

race horse’s international fame,

and seeing Silent Witness win at

international races brought much

joy to HKers during the post 2003

SARS pandemic period. Horse

betting, just like any other other

gambling activities in Hong Kong,

is also shrouded in superstition. I

believe that we thought after such

a period of bad luck with the

pandemic, Silent Witness

represented hope as a cultural

icon.

Stories of superstitious myths

scared me as a child but I also had

a sort of fascination and

unquestioned reverence for the

figures in these myths, an attitude

that continues in my adulthood.

Even though I have moved to

Texas for over a decade, these

superstitions still have some

small power over me and the way

I think. Since early 2020, I’ve

become more and more

interested in the grotesque and

monsters as art subjects in my

personal work. My long time

friend and artistic collaborator,

Nat Power (@natpowertat), began

her apprenticeship as a tattoo

artist in 2019 and has since then

been sharing her various

knowledge about tattooing with

me. Although I’ve never been

interested in getting tattoos and

still am not, I’ve begun to expand

my appreciation for tattoos as art.

Before the Covid pandemic, I

used to visit Nat at the tattoo

parlor she worked at and spent

time with her there, sometimes

listening in on Ray, Nat’s mentor,

coaching her on drawing

methods.

Ray

(@flawless.wallace.tattoos) is the

owner of the tattoo parlor and a

tattoo artist of Indonesian

descent. Nat and her mentor

shared with me the history of

tattooing in different indigenous

cultures around the world. One

time Ray even showed me a dice

game tattoo artists often played

amongst themselves, and told

me the game was probably

brought to America by Chinese

sailors in the 1800s. After

learning this, I started doing

some research on my own and

discovered that tattooing was

also a cultural practice by the

Baiyue peoples, the group of

peoples who some Cantonese

and Vietnamese people are

originally descended from before

they were sinocized by the Han.

As a person with a pretty

traditional Hong Kong

upbringing, I still don’t feel the

urge to get tattoos myself, but I

have begun to incorporate some

of the observations I’ve made

about tattoo graphics into my

own personal paintings.

Growing up in Hong Kong

society, I was often told that only

triad members sported tattoos.

This is why HKers have such

prejudice against people who

have visible tattoos; people with

tattoos were supposed to be

unsavory people affiliated with

gang activities. Today, attitudes

about tattoos have changed in

Hong Kong as more and more

young people just think of it as a

personal choice. Personally

though, I still appreciate the

original intention with which

triad tattooing was performed—

people who acquired triad

tattoos sometimes did it because

they believe having a mythical

140

Tsz Kam

‘97 Fireworks, paws in my palms.

Acrylic on panel

141

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beast or entity tattooed allows them to channel

the power of that entity. I have also heard

supernatural anecdotes about people getting

mysteriously sick after getting a tattoo of a

powerful entity, presumably because they were

not spiritually “strong enough” to control the

entity’s power.

As a queer artist, Nat speaks of her tattoo practice

as collecting animal icons as sentimental figures,

almost adjacent to the modern-day Internet furry

subculture that celebrates things like fursona and

adoptables, practices where young queer kids

project themselves and their identities onto selfinvented

or peer-invented animal characters. This

inspired me to follow my instincts. I’ve always

been interested in monsters and mythological

figures. I didn’t have a concrete reason to justify

why I wanted to draw and paint them before; I am

just never one to draw or paint something simply

because “I like it”. I need to know why and where

it comes from. It’s taken a long way from Wong Tai

Sin to Texas to find it, but I have found it.

After discovering Puca’s photography project

about Wong Tai Sin, my childhood home, and her

struggle with how her relatives in Hong Kong see

her tattoos, I wanted to share these thoughts with

the community. This is a love letter about how a

kid from Wong Tai Sin fell in love with tattoo art,

even though they still won’t get a tattoo themself.

About Tsz Kam tszkam.com @tszkam_art

Tsz Kam was born in British colonial Hong Kong

in the early 90s and moved to Texas in 2007 as a

teen. Kam’s family history of being political

refugees of communist China runs parallel to their

own escape from Hong Kong culture. As a first

generation immigrant, Kam explores the outsider

and insider perspectives through the lens of a

gender non-binary person, both when observing

American culture and looking back at their Sino

roots. By using escapism and nostalgia as an

expression, Kam reestablishes a sense of

belonging through their works.

Tsz Kam

Waterworks I


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Tsz Kam

Darius


145

Interview with

Karon Ng

Home Cooked


Karon Ng

148

Karon Ng

London, UK

Karon Ng is a digital designer with a passion for illustration. Her

work encapsulates colour and culture, they are often in maximalist

style. Karon was born and raised in Hong Kong, but has lived in a

number of cities including, London, New York, Singapore, and

Beijing. She graduated from Central Saint Martins in Textile Design

and worked for a product design company in Hong Kong

specialising in designing prints to accentuate Hong Kong culture.

Karon Ng 是一位數碼設計師 , 並對插畫有濃厚興趣。她的作品色

彩豐富 , 富文化涵義 , 風格走極繁路線 (maximalist)。Karon 生

於香港、長於香港 , 亦曾居於多個城市 , 包括倫敦、紐約、新加

坡及北京。她在中央聖馬丁藝術與設計學院畢業 , 取得紡織設計

學位 , 並於香港的產品設計公司工作 , 專門設計突出香港文化的

印刷畫。

Karon-draws.com

@karon.draws

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You describe your art as maximalist. Where did you

develop this style?

你形容你的藝術走極繁路線 , 你是怎樣走向這個風格的 ?

Since I was young I have always been drawn to different

colours and patterns and I believe the influence is from my

experience of growing up in Hong Kong. In Hong Kong,

there is a colourful clash of different cultures in a

concentrated area and I have always wanted to convey the

aesthetic of ‘east meets west’. For me, this aesthetic equates

to upbeat energy and vibrant colours. To me, Hong Kong

has always given off a feeling of ‘more is more’ or a

maximalist style. For example, I often reminisce going to my

grandparents' place in a 500 square feet apartment in

Causeway Bay, where there are so many different objects

and different styles; for example: walls full of traditional

chinese paintings, a lunar year calendar, family photos,

colourful plastic chairs and chinese tea cups in different

shapes and sizes. To some it may feel messy or

claustrophobic but the mash up of different objects with

different meanings has always felt ‘right’ to me.

I think my style has also been influenced by my career so far.

When I started my journey in the art and design industry,

the companies I worked for also had a very ‘maximalist’

style. For example, I worked for Jacky Tsai who is a fine artist

who creates beautiful artwork that fuses traditional eastern

artistic techniques and imagery with western pop art

references. Similarly, I spent time at Goods of Desire which

is a Hong Kong product design company that always

incorporates traditional Hong Kong elements in different

products. Then, I worked for Mary Katrantzou who is a

greek fashion designer that designs beautiful maximalist

fashion items with eye-catching print collisions which, to

me, is super beautiful. In my illustrations, I draw

inspiration from all my experiences and I aim to mix

different objects with different meanings or patterns as

conveying that feeling of ‘more is more’ is the most familiar

feeling to me.

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Karon Ng

Fragments (previous page)


Karon Ng

Bloom


我年幼時 , 已經對不同顏色和圖案感到興趣 , 我相信這

是源於在香港長大的經歷。在香港這彈丸之地 , 不同文

化互相衝擊 , 所以我一直想表達中西匯聚的美感。對我

來說 , 富活力和鮮豔的色彩最能代表這種美感。在我而

言 , 香港一直都有種「繁複就是美」, 或是極繁主義的

感覺。我常憶起到祖父母在銅鑼灣的 500 尺單位裡去 ,

那裡有很多不同物件和風格 , 牆壁掛滿傳統中國國畫、

農曆日曆 , 家庭照、色彩繽紛的膠凳以及不同形狀和大

小的中式茶杯。對某些人來說 , 可能感覺很凌亂 , 或者

令人感到幽閉恐懼 , 但不同物件的不同意義匯合起來 ,

一直對我來說都沒有不妥。

我認為自己的風格也被目前的職業影響 , 我在藝術及設

計行業起步時 , 所任職的公司都走極繁路線。我曾為藝

術家 Jacky Tsai 工作 , 他的作品糅合傳統東方藝術技巧

和意象 , 以及西方普普藝術。我也曾在「住好啲」工

作 , 那是一間香港的產品設計公司 , 他們擅於將香港傳

統元素融入不同產品中。之後我也為希臘時裝設計師

Mary Katrantzou 工作 , 她設計的時裝單品走美麗的極

繁路線 , 印上的圖案也帶來視覺衝擊 , 那對我來說非常

好看。我從自身經歷中找畫作的靈感 , 也希望融匯帶有

不同意義或圖案的物件 , 因為「繁複就是美」是我最熟

悉的感覺。

152

153

Tell us more about the process

behind your recent works. How do

you locate the textures? What

programs do you use? What

inspires you?

可以分析你近期作品背後的創作過程

嗎 ? 你是怎樣選取材質的 ? 你用甚麼

軟件 ? 有甚麼啟發了你 ?

I try to draw every day, and I am

inspired by my everyday encounters.

Whether it is a memory that I

suddenly thought of or something that

makes me feel happy or reminiscent.

As I am currently based in London and

we are in a lockdown, drawing to me is

a therapeutic process to ‘travel’ to

different places and memories.

Recently, I have been missing home a

lot and I love researching old

traditional Hong Kong objects and

interior design. When I recall some

specific objects I used to see in my

childhood, I message my family to see

if they can take photos for me in Hong

Kong, as well as researching online for

myself. Then I start sketching these

items roughly on my sketchbook with

a fine tip pen. I try to use sketchbooks

more often as it allows me to

appreciate every stroke I draw, even if

there is a mistake. For me, sketching

like this feels more authentic and ‘real’.

Then I use either Photoshop or

Procreate to fill in the colours and

textures.

When creating patterns and prints, I

really recommend creating them on

Procreate, as they have a function

called “Drawing Assist” and it is super

helpful when you have a wallpaper

print or tile design you want to create

in a short amount of time. Then, I

experiment with colour

combinations, seeing what works and

what doesn’t work. For colours, I often

draw inspiration from Victo Ngai,

who is a Los Angeles based illustrator

from Hong Kong and she has a

SkillShare class called ‘Color

Masterclass: Simple Steps to Create

Vivid Art’. Her works are always an

inspiration to me, they are very

intricate but also very vibrant with

perfectly balanced colour and

patterns.

我嘗試每日都繪畫 , 因為我的靈感源

於日常經歷 , 可能是突然想起的回

憶 , 或是一些令我快樂或懷緬的事

情。因為我現在身處倫敦 , 而我們正

在封城中 , 繪畫對我是一個治癒的過

程 , 帶我「遊覽」不同地方和回憶。

最近我很想家 , 我很喜歡研究傳統老

香港的物件和室內設計。當我記起兒

時見過的某些特別物件 , 我就會通知

家人 , 問他們可否幫我在香港找那些

物件拍照 , 我也會自己上網研究 , 之

後就會開始用細尖的筆在畫簿粗略素

描那些物件。我盡量多用畫簿 , 因為

即使會出錯 , 我也可以欣賞自己的每

一筆。對我來說 , 這樣的素描感覺較

為實在和真實。之後 , 我就會用

Photoshop 或 Procreate 加上色彩和質

感。

Karon Ng

Chinese New Year


154

我推薦用 Procreate 創作圖案及印刷畫 , 它「Drawing Assist」的功能 , 在

你需要短時間內創作牆紙或瓷磚設計非常有用。之後我就會試不同的顏

色配搭 , 看看那些可行 , 那些不可行。顏色方面 , 我經常從現居洛杉磯

的香港插畫家 Victo Ngai 的作品取得靈感 , 她主持了一個 SkillShare 課堂

「Color Masterclass: Simple Steps to Create Vivid Art」( 顏色大師班 :

創作鮮明藝術的簡單步驟 )。我的靈感很多時候均來自她的作品 , 它們

都很細緻 , 同時很有活力 , 顏色和圖案都達致完美的平衡。

155

You recently created an image based off of the movie In the Mood for

Love. You use five different textures in that work. Tell us about the ideas

you are trying to evoke in this image. How has that movie affected you?

你最近創作的一幅畫取材自電影《花樣年華》, 你在該作品用了五種不同的

材質。你希望透過這件作品帶出甚麼概念 ? 這電影怎樣影響你 ?

I am a big fan of Wong Kar Wai’s films. Watching his

films makes me feel nostalgic and I think it’s a ‘romantic’

version of Hong Kong which I desire to be in. In his

films, he captures Hong Kong in a very realistic way.

‘In the Mood for Love’ is a perfect example of what I love

in Hong Kong. The cramped apartments, the fusion of

different cultures, vibrant colours and patterns in a small

place. The film is a simple but beautiful story depicting

two characters having an affair. The illustration I drew is

a study of a scene where the lead female character is

looking outside the window after the lead male character

left Hong Kong to Singapore for good. Her feelings of

longing in that scene struck me the most and I wanted to

draw it.

The five different textures are actually inspired by the

interior design in the film. Most of the scenes are shot in

the cramped rooms of the lead characters, and there are

often textile designs mostly in the 80s and 90s with the

flower patterned curtains and geometric shaped

wallpaper design.

我很喜歡王家衛的電影 , 看他的電影會令我懷緬過

去 , 我認為他作品中的香港是「浪漫」版的香港 , 我

很想身處其中 , 他的電影以很真實的方式呈現這城

市。

《花樣年華》完美地呈現了我喜歡香港的元素 —— 狹

小的住宅單位、不同文化的匯聚、有限空間裡展現鮮

豔色彩和圖案。這電影描述兩位主角發生外遇 , 是簡

單而動人的故事。我的作品參考了電影的一幕 , 女主

角在男主角永別香港前往新加坡後 , 往窗外看的一

刻。她在那一幕充滿渴望的情感令我最印象深刻 , 所

以我想畫下來。

那五種材質靈感源自電影的室內設計 , 電影大部分場

景都在男女主角的狹小房間裡拍攝 , 當中有很多八、

九十年代的紡織物設計 , 例如花卉圖案窗簾及幾何圖

形牆紙的設計。

Karon Ng

In the Mood for Love


Tell us about the symbolism in

Mirage.

可以解釋一下作品 Mirage 中的象徵意

義嗎 ?

Mirage illustrates my idea of how

Chinese culture can be integrated into

the global market in a contemporary

way. I was born in Hong Kong, and the

aesthetic of ‘East meets West’ often

influences my art and design. I have

integrated the Chinese aesthetic of

shan shui paintings with the colour

palette of pop art to enhance the idea

of “East meets West”.

When thinking about landscape art

through the lens of a Chinese

aesthetic, shan shui paintings came

to my mind. Shan shui paintings,

which literally means ‘mountainwater-picture’,

is a style of traditional

Chinese painting that depicts natural

Karon Ng

Mirage


158

landscapes with brush and ink. Shan

shui paintings involve a complicated

and rigorous set of requirements for

balance, composition, and form. My

illustration involves different elements

which guide the viewer through the

landscape and allow their eyes to

wander around.

Mirage 描繪了我認為中華文化可以怎

樣以現代方式融入國際市場。我在香

港出生 ,「中西匯聚」的美學經常影

響我的藝術和設計。我融合山水畫的

中式美感及普普藝術的顏色配搭 , 提

升「中西匯聚」的意念。

以中式美感角度看風景畫 , 我就會想

起山水畫。山水畫即是山和水的畫 ,

是傳統中國畫的一種類型 , 以毛筆和

墨水描繪自然風景。山水畫需要複雜

及嚴謹的平衡、構圖和形態。我的畫

作涵蓋不同元素 , 引領觀眾瀏覽風

景 , 讓視線遊走各處。

159

You’ve chosen to portray many classic

dishes like bitter melon, century egg tofu

salad, and okra salad. Why did you choose

these dishes? What do they represent?

你描繪了很多傳統菜式 , 例如苦瓜、涼拌皮

蛋豆腐和涼拌秋葵。你為甚麼會選擇這些菜

式 ? 它們代表甚麼 ?

The dishes collection is a project I did with

‘Once Upon A Dish’, a platform curated by

Meiji, a friend of mine to celebrate dishes with

personal stories. I drew this collection during

the summer of 2020 whilst living in London

where I was reminiscing about being at home

in Hong Kong having dinner with my family.

Even though there is such a fast paced culture

in Hong Kong, my family always insisted that

we sit together in our dining room to have

dinner every night. We usually had chinese

dishes and we called them “ 餸 “ (side dishes),

and we paired them with rice. The perfect

proportion with ‘ 餸 ’ is ‘ 三餸一湯 ’, which

means three side dishes and one big bowl of

soup. The side dishes are mostly vegetables

and meat, some stir fried and some slow

cooked, depending on time. My mom is also a

big believer of the ‘Yin (Cold) and Yang

(Warm)’ elements in food and the side dishes

have to complement each other to make sure

we get the right nutrients from the food.

As mentioned above, I now live in London

and I haven’t been back home for two years.

Even though I tried really hard to cook

Chinese dishes every night like my mom did

when I was in Hong Kong, it takes too much

time and it’s very hard to find the right

ingredients. The dishes I drew are a revamped

version of the “summer dishes” that my mom

used to make in the summer and it aims to

cool down your body so your body will feel

more “balanced”. The dishes are made with

the ingredients that I found in the UK and

they all have their own unique personal

sentiment.

這小菜系列是我跟「Once Upon A Dish」所創作的項目 , 那是我朋友 Meĳi 策

展的一個平台 , 旨在記錄有個人故事的一些菜式。我在 2020 年創作這系列 ,

當時我住在倫敦 , 很懷念在香港跟家人在家吃晚餐的時刻。雖然香港的生活

步伐很快 , 我家人一直堅持要每晚在飯廳一起吃飯。我們一般會吃中式小

菜 , 也就是「餸」, 並配以白飯 , 最理想的比例就是三餸一湯 , 小菜一般都

是菜和肉 , 有些是炒的 , 有些是慢煮的 , 視乎有多少時間。我母親奉行食物

中的陰陽概念 , 所以每道菜都要互相配合 , 確保我們可以從食物中吸取足夠

營養。

之前提過我現居倫敦 , 兩年都沒返家了。我每晚都嘗試努力做中菜 , 仿

效我在香港時母親的做法 , 那需要很多時間 , 而且很難找到正確的材

料。我畫的菜式是改編自母親在夏天煮的「夏日菜式」, 這些菜式助身

體降溫 , 讓身體更「調和」。我用在英國找到的材料做那些菜式 , 它們

全都寄託了獨特的個人情感。

What is the inspiration behind your Still Here Still Life series?

你創作 Still Here Still Life 系列背後有甚麼靈感 ?

Still Here Still Life is a weekly drawing challenge which was founded by

two amazing illustrators Tess Smith-Roberts & Zena Kay. They give

different still life images prompts every week and we need to draw or

recreate them in our own styles. I do the Still Here Still Life challenge every

week as it builds an illustration community for me and allows me to

practice illustration.

I currently work as a full time digital designer by day and I started picking

up illustration again in March 2020, so I still need to practice and learn.

Still Here Still Life pushes me to think outside of the box and discover what

my style is. So far, I noticed that I love getting inspiration from the still life

objects and researching the history behind them and then developing my

own prints and interior to match with the objects. This method allows me

to do what I love most, which is to create wallpaper and textile prints to

compliment the objects. In the future, I really hope I can go back to Hong

Kong to create a collection of my encounters of still life objects.

Still Here Still Life 是由兩位優秀插畫家 Tess Smith-Roberts 和 Zena Kay 發

起的每週繪畫挑戰。他們每星期都會提出不同的靜態物件作題目 , 我們

就用自己的風格繪畫或重塑那些物件。我每星期都會參與 Still Here Still

Life 的挑戰 , 因為它為我建立了一個插畫愛好者的社區 , 並給我練習插

畫的機會。

我現時是一個全職的數碼設計師 , 在 2020 年 3 月開始再次畫起畫來 , 所

以還需要鍛煉和學習。Still Here Still Life 鼓勵我跳出框架去思考 , 探索

自己的風格。目前 , 我留意到自己喜歡從靜態物品中取得靈感 , 研究物

品背後的歷史 , 並創作自己的印刷畫和室內裝飾去襯托那些物品。這方

式讓我做自己最喜歡做的事情 , 那就是創作牆紙和紡織圖案去配襯物

件。我希望將來可以回到香港 , 創作一系列我遇到的靜態物件。

Karon Ng

Still Life Still Here


Karon Ng

Canto Dishes (previous page)


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