These are some of the things I love:
I love being greeted by the sunrise each morning, it’s warm rays beaming into my room telling me to wake up. I love walking into my garden when it’s snowing but still warm enough for me to stay out and sit and meditate on its sublime beauty which both cleanses and revitalizes my mind. I love the fresh air being outside because it reminds me how valuable it is to breathe. I love cats and dogs, but I can’t breathe around most of them. But I’m grateful I’m not allergic to flowers because I love the scent of my Choisyea — Mexican Orange plant — which doesn’t like the rain (and we get lots of it here.)
I love the taste of great food, all varieties and from all regions. I love making good food, especially for friends. I love Shanghai dumplings, which I can never have enough of. I love the taste of a great burger with all the fixin’s. I love the sushi at Sushi Gari in NYC, where each visit is a new adventure in flavour. I love (and miss) my dad’s aromatic sticky rice, which no chef has been able to replicate in flavour or texture. I love the scent of coffee, even though I rarely drink it. And I love the aroma of fresh bread inside a bakery. (Croissants in Paris!) I love the savoury mouth-watering szechuan chicken my wife makes with my homemade chilli sauce. And I never forget the mind-blowing taste of the strawberry Daifuku (rice flour dessert) I had in Takayama, Japan — if there is such a thing as heaven in a single bite, this is it. And I love noodles, every kind.
I love to read, especially from the words of the wise; Robert Henri, Henry David Thoreau, Lao Tzu, Chuang Tzu, Heraclitus, Epictetus, Seneca, Socrates, Eric Fromm, Soren Kierkegaard, Khalil Gibran, Alan Watts, Albert Camus, Albert Einstein, David Bohm, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and most of all Jiddu Krishnamurti whose teachings helped me see the need to revolutionize my mind. And though I read much less fiction than I used to, I love the work of Melville, Steinbeck, Shakespeare, Philip K. Dick, George Orwell, Ray Bradbury, Henry Miller and Kurt Vonnegut. I love the poetry of Walt Whitman, E.E. Cummings, William Blake and most dearly, Mary Oliver, whose words are as profound as they are beautiful.
I love kung fu having practiced it dutifully for over 40 years. I never tire of how it harmonizes my mind with my body. I love hitting the heavy bag, the wall bag, the speed bad, and my trusty old wooden dummy. I love swinging swords and sticks. I love my numerous teachers of the craft, both in Wing Chun and Tai Chi. And I love Bruce Lee, my childhood idol and first teacher in life, whose artistry and philosophy put me on the right path to real discipline and creativity — he remains an inspiration to this very day, even nearly 50 years after his death.
I love to draw and paint. I find great pleasure in the way a 6B pencil softens as I use it, both scratching and gliding on the surface. I love coloured pencils, the directness of them. I love the way watercolours fold over each other, lifting and blending on its own accord with the layers below. I love handmade papers. I love the light yet buttery texture of acrylic paint as I scoop it out of its jar. I love the sensuality of oils, the way it spreads and smells, even if it’s not so good for my lungs.
I love the artistry of so many artists (though I can’t list them all) including, but in no particular order: Lucien Freud, Picasso, Michelangelo, Da Vinci, Matisse, Manet, Rembrandt, Van Gogh, Goya, Ribero, Carravagio and Giacometti. I love the compositions of Winslow Homer and David Hockney. I love the woodblock prints of Hokusai and Hiroshige. I love the drawings of Daumier, Gustav Klimt, Egon Schiele and Toulouse Lautrec — their work demonstrates the power of the line. I love the modernity of Paul Klee, Joan Miro, Agnes Martin, Mark Rothko, Bridget Riley, Jackson Pollock, Willem de Kooning and Joan Mitchell and how they still feel fresh and new decades later. I love Ian Davenport’s marvelous stripes and Yayoi Kasuma’s Infinity rooms. I love the simple yet sublime photography of Hiroshi Sugimoto. I love the art/illustrations of Gustav Doré, Dino Battaglia, Arthur Rackham, Mary Blair, Chris Van Allsburg, Al Hirshfeld, Normal Rockwell, Sergio Toppi, Brad Holland, Catherine Jeffrey Jones, Ashley Wood, Mike Mignola, Frank Miller, Aubrey Beardsley, Peter de Seve, and of course, Maurice Sendak who made it obvious to all that strange things can look very beautiful.
I love animation, the rare art form that incorporates so many other art forms — the act of animating alone brings life not only to the screen but to the soul. I love these animators (who have taught and inspired me through their work): Bill Tytla, Frederick Back, Chuck Jones, Tex Avery, Richard Williams, Joe Hanna, Bill Barbera, Frank Thomas, Ollie Johnston, Marc Davis, Glen Keane, Eric Larson, Andreas Deja, James Baxter, Eric Goldberg, Walt Stanchfield, Charlie Bonafacio, Ron Husband, David Pruiksma, and most fervently Milt Kahl, whose mountainously high artistic standards might be insurmountable but still worth striving for.
I love movies and most enthusiastically the cinematic talents of Stanley Kubrick, Akira Kurasawa, David Lean, Alfred Hitchcock, David Lynch, Ingmar Bergman, Chan Woo Park, Sidney Lumet, Lee Chang Dong, Masaki Kobayashi, Yasujiro Ozu, Wong Kar Wei, Francis Ford Coppola, Sofia Coppola, David Cronenberg, Joel & Ethan Coen, Frank Dabaront, Jane Campion, Wes Anderson and Hayao Miyazaki. I love great soundtracks from great movies, most notably the music of John Williams, James Horner, Bernard Hermann, John Barry, Hans Zimmer, Jerry Goldsmith, Joe Hasaishi, and the immeasurable Ennio Morricone.
I love and miss many of my old friends and colleagues, especially those who have made my life more fun and worthwhile. I may not see or talk to them often, but they are never far from my thoughts. I love deeply my mother and father and my two best friends — all of whom still come to visit me in my dreams and allow me to forget, at least for a short while, that they are no longer here. And I love my students, for working together with me to continually find beauty, joy and meaning in being artists. And finally, I love this one woman, who has spent nearly 30 years as my companion through good times and bad, moving from city to city, always boundlessly generous and supportive and most of all, always there for me.
When I think of all these things I love, I remember that life is much better and more beautiful than I usually realize. Do you not feel the same, when you go through all the things that you love?