The (Possibly) Last Time Stations
In the year leading up to our departure from Hong Kong, every moment spent on the island took on a new significance.
The Invisible
A Malaysian writer, wandering the earth, listening to the universe and writing the stories behind my photographs.
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Missing
At the wet market in Shek Tong Shui (literal translation: rock pool beak), a district in Hong Kong with a colourful past, there is a fruit and flower stall on the street level.
Look Hard
Slivers of souls.
Pictures at an Exhibition
The young girls in the photographs are not my children.
The Hope of Soccer
It’s a sultry May evening.
Goodnight Store (a nod to Margaret Wise Brown)
In the cramped cluttered store
Camel's in the House
It was during the days of pandemic lockdown when I chanced upon the Yeung Hau temple on the fringes of the sleepy fishing village of Tai O on Lantau Island.
Hope and the Hurricane
Official weather predictions in Hong Kong are eerily accurate, so even though the usual typhoon season had passed, when the issued forecast called for heavy rain, gusty winds, a T3 later in the evening, perhaps even a T8 overnight, you could hear the clanging alarm bells going off in every Hong Konger’s head.
When Milk Tea Met Butter
Towards the end of her event at the Hong Kong International Literary Festival in 2025, I presented Yuzuki Asako, the bestselling Japanese author, with a pillow-soft bor lor bao (pineapple bun), stuffed with a thick slab of chilled butter.
The Temple in the Hills
I stand on the balcony of my usual Airbnb while on a caregiving mission to Penang.
The Last Lion Dance
When you pose for this photograph - one arm on your daughter’s shoulder and the other arm gripped tightly by your son - you don’t know it will be the last lion dance you ever arrange at your parents’ house in your childhood hometown of Ipoh.