In my flat in Hong Kong which I fondly call the "House of Double Happiness," I change the ambiance by moving my props around. Everything and every time. This habit is refreshing. But a dramatic change occurred when I was deluged with water.
Hong Kong had an acute water shortage in 1982 that resulted in rationing. One day when I went out for an appointment, I did not realize I left the tap in the kitchen open. Water flooded the entire flat when I got back. A Thai friend consoled me by reminding that water is a cleansing element. One should not cry over spilled water so I embraced this incident in a positive light by refurbishing my flat.
I transformed the summer mood to spring by changing the color scheme and upgrading the materials. Off-white wool carpet replaces the original corn matting. The all upholstered occasional chairs substitute for the burnt bamboo chairs and paint now covers the bleached wood finishes. The painting by the famous Chinese painter, Qian Songyan, introduces the green palette echoing the porcelain collection displayed in the ladder and the throw pillows. In the corner is an antique santo from the Philippines.
Above: Beige moiré upholsters the banquette and the original table was shortened to serve as a Japanese style dining table. Hanging in the feng shui divider is a Ch'ien Lung Period (1736-1796 AD) Chinese landscape painting. The water element is present inside a pair of tall ginseng glass jars.
Right: Detail of my favorite Chinese painting that hangs on the other wall -- photo taken at my one-man show. I bought this piece for a song when collecting Chinese paintings was not yet popular. It is by master-painter Qian Hui'an and dated 1882.
I like my bed low perhaps because of a childhood trauma. Besides not falling out of bed, I can surround myself with the amenities of relaxation without getting up. In my tiny bedroom, I devised a Japanese style raised platform for the mattress. Small as it is, the view from the window, covered by Roman blinds, expands the feeling of space.
A four panel Chinese painting of crabs dated 1790 decorates my study cum dressing room. In one of the panels, the calligraphy says: "Crabs walks sideways, sometimes free and happy, sometimes strong, sometimes weak, actually they have no intestines." In the East we tend to approach things sideways rather than straight on. On the left hangs a wood curving of a Naga or serpent-dragon from Chiang Mai, Thailand.