I keep thinking about the two strange habits my father had.

When he ate chicken wings, he always lined the bones up in the tidiest way, so each wing would still have all its bones together and in place.

Whenever he finished his Filet-O-Fish sandwich at McDonald's, he always folded the wrapping paper neatly. He would never crumple it up.

The bones would eventually be discarded. The paper would be, too. But the way he treated the remains of his food was almost like performing a sacred ritual — a proper burial before the end.

He was diagnosed with a…


I still remember the hype it conjured when it was on view at Christie’s Hong Kong. Everyone talked about how they must go see the Salvator Mundi, the once lost and now found painting by the great Leonardo da Vinci. It achieved a record-breaking price of US$450 million. People continued to talk about it for a while. I didn’t think more of it until very recently, when The Lost Leonardo, a 2021 documentary by Danish director Andreas Koefoed came to light. I saw it on TV2 Play in Denmark out of curiosity. (Luckily it is mostly in English.)

Anyone who…


Photo by Damon Lam on Unsplash

This story that I am about to tell is true.

When I was 17 years old, my family and I moved to a village house in the New Territories, Hong Kong. It was located halfway on a hill and there was a stairway to the hilltop. My mom counted. There were 104 stairs to get to the house, our home, where we lived for almost two years and experienced some of our lowest tides in life.

We thought the rent was somehow unreasonably cheap for such a place. It was not new. But it was spacious. …


Photo by Nick Karvounis on Unsplash

I grew up in a multicultural environment where my parents’ mother tongues are different — my dad’s Hindi and my mom’s Thai. They both learnt to speak Cantonese when they moved to Hong Kong in the 70s. My dad spoke English, my mom doesn’t. Cantonese is my mother tongue. I learnt English and Mandarin at school. I learnt Thai from simply listening to my mom’s conversations with relatives and friends. My husband is Danish. I am learning Danish. I never learnt Hindi because my dad said it was not important.

I remember myself as a little girl, sitting at dining…


David Hockney’s The Road to York through Sledmere (1997) © David Hockney

I thought Facebook group was no longer a thing. I was wrong. Perhaps it is a side effect of the pandemic year. I have joined a few fairly active Facebook groups myself. Facebook is wicked. It knows things, and it gives you suggestions. Among the many suggestions Facebook has given me, there is the David Hockney Facebook group. I joined. Of course, everybody loves David Hockney. (I am everybody.)

I realised soon enough that it is not all about David Hockney. It is not an official group. The admin isn’t even active. It is a group where people post the…


because it is not.

That’s probably the best piece of writing advice I have heard in a long time. It came from David Sedaris, American humorist, comedian, author, and radio contributor. To be honest, I don’t remember having read anything he has written. But due to my newfound interest in humor and comedy, I clicked on him on MasterClass.

I am a prolific speechwriter myself, and for every speech that I have written for my boss to deliver, I have only one goal. I am aware that people will not remember everything from a 30-minute or 1-hour speech because our…


Or is it UK tabloids VS. US Oprah?

We are living in an interesting time. I remember the world as a place much less eventful when I was younger. How fast and far information has since travelled.

I have always liked Meghan. The Queen, Princess Diana and Meghan — they are the three women in the British royal family that I adore. I don’t feel much for Kate. She seems a little bland. She looks like the class monitor who always hands in her homework on time, obeys the teacher, aces every exam and does everything right. She always wears…


If we believe in everything that people say we cannot do, what would humankind have achieved?

Courtesy of Netflix

It is Netflix time again. I clicked on this documentary not knowing what to expect, and then I found a gem. I have very little knowledge about sailing. The few times that I went sailing with my husband, I was there just to enjoy the sea and sun. (And be proposed to — that was an unforgettable surprise.) I married a man who sails, that’s it.

But this documentary is not just about women trying to sail, it is 1 hour 37 minutes of…


It is hypocrisy at its height.

The documentary reminds me of another documentary, Sour Grapes. The people who pride themselves on their exquisite taste in art and wine can’t even tell the difference between the authentic and the forged.

This seemingly most spectacular art forgery began in 1995, when Ann Freedman, the director of the Knoedler Gallery, a 165-year-old gallery that went into business 25 years before the Metropolitan Museum of Art was founded, bought an untitled piece by Mark Rothko from Glafira Rosales, a woman who lived (and still lives) in Long Island that no one in the art…


There are so many trends I cannot stand.

Who the hell on earth put on a dress before they take a nap? Maybe people do. Maybe it is now a trend. But nap to me is a pleasant, spontaneous activity. Dozing off while reading a book or watching a movie (and dreaming about what I just read or watched) is heavenly. (One time I dozed off during a performance in an Opera House though, and that was a disaster. My husband was so mad at me.) …

Cherry B.

An art girl. A writer.

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