Choi lived and worked in his little shop, surrounded by antique and valuable items. His days were busy, even though his shop usually was empty. And he had a secret, known by no one, except himself. Then one day someone stepped in, disturbing his peace.
Once upon a time there was a sandy trail in Coloane. Made of wild grass and pine needles and little stones. "It goes all the way to the end of the world," old people would tell children. One day, a little boy thought he couldn't think of a better place to visit than the end of the world. He was convinced that, at the end of the world, bad things would cease to exist.
Lee Sio Tou started painting when she was four. She had managed to open a papaya jam her grandmother had made in the eve, and found those shades of sweet-loving-orange looked wonderful in the living room wall. That was the beginning of a life time goal: to discover colours and tones and shades and light spots in unlikely places.
Dear politicians of Macau, wouldn't it be fun to have a park with a whole lot of grass, for everyone to enjoy safely? So, for today's Wednesday Site I pick grass. I pick the grass I wished existed here. Grass everywhere. Don't you agree?
Chan almost lost his balance in the village of Coloane when he saw the yellow and white façade of the Chapel of St. Francis Xavier, bathed by the waves of the pavement. He had always wondered what colour would heaven be.
There is something about emptiness that fills me inside. The kind of emptiness you find in a black and white drawing or in an empty house. In an empty house the past is but a dark little spot on a wall. The present is dormant, suspended, as if it were always midnight. There is nothing but future there.
On the day we celebrate the right of children to be children, let me tell you about a beautiful place in Macau where the little ones can learn by nurturing, in a playful atmosphere, their most precious gift: imagination.