As I have grown in age, I have chosen to be very open with regard to sharing my personal perspectives of both joy and trauma, as well as stories of my life within the context of my family, in the hope of creating deeper human connections.

Now that I have your attention… Oh, you thought I was going to connect the word “no” to the word “f@$k”, right? Well, it’s all in how we look at it.

A few days ago I posted about the last experience I had with racism in America. It was personal and impacting. It elicited many strong reactions…

Sometimes I wake at 4am and realize how lucky I am.

I believe that who I am is a combination of everything including my creativity, my beliefs, my voice, my perspectives, my thoughts…

Cancer doesn't give two shits about who you are, how fit you were, your social status, your frame of mind and on and on and on…

I finally realized why I have such an issue with Trump, his Followers and MAGA. I finally understood that it’s not the disagreement I have..

It’s incredible how timely this piece is with not just regards to being a creative, but also with holding on and persevering in the chaos…

Creative is who I am. It is not just a word or concept, being creative is a way of life, my way of life.

Dear Cancer, Fuck you. That should be all I need to say to you cancer, but there’s more…

As the year comes to an end, I look back at not just this year, but all the years that have past and think of where I am today…

This year has been something. I struggled through recovery from my throat cancer (still struggling), we opened our beautiful boutique...

So its been a while...for sure. The thing is....back in October I was diagnosed with throat cancer.

The other day, I had a conversation with someone about what I do. They were genuinely interested in how I got to where I am...

How the hell did I end up here? I still don't believe that this is where I live, even as the words fill the page.

Fake smiles, empty promises and a treasure trove of greed...it's all in a days work for Management.

Every single morning, I wake up, look out the window at the beautiful lush farm I live on and think this same amazing thing...

Two weeks ago, my closest and dearest Aunt passed away. I was incredibly close and connected with her in a truly profound and...

It’s fucking complicated…. Anybody that has lived in the belly of this beast, that beast being Hong Kong, for any length of time knows this.

Aren’t we all emotional beings? What’s wrong with feeling something, anything? What’s wrong with expressing our feelings?