I am a Wuhan girl living in Hong Kong. Right now, all my close family is under lock-down back in my hometown, at the epicenter of this epidemic.

#RIHLive which widely adored historical figure would be most severely cancelled today do you think?.

💪🏼@amcoren.

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Perhaps, I should do more of that on my own canvas. Dear quarantine, thank you for the stillness and the insight. 🙏🏼✨.

. because right there, in the emptiness, lies the elegant playground for the imagination of both the artist and the viewers.

There is an ancient technique in traditional Chinese paintings called "Liu Bai” (留白 = literally “keep blank”), in which the artist intentionally leave out a ton of blank space on the paper. .

So I guess that's how light comes in — when there is an opening, space and stillness.

My world was full, so were my flat, my calendar and my mind. I was charging ahead at full speed, like a horse with blinders. And it took a pandemic and the 9th quarantine for me to open up my eyes and see some of the beauty that had been around me all along.

"It all really is quite majestic!" thought this Quarantinese. In fairness to myself, of course I've seen the mountains before, and the clouds, the plane. I know the rumbling buses and the chirping birds. But was it "seeing" like "I see you" in "Avatar" (2009)?. No, it wasn't.

"Guys, I have honestly never noticed any of you before!" I quietly confessed. Then without warning, the rain came down, the view blurred & the temperature shifted. The mountains, though, stood unwavering, calm and at ease as always.

And now, I see so much more clearly the layers of mountains in the distance. Above them, enormous clouds dissolving and birthing simultaneously. An occasional plane gliding across. An urban eagle making its rounds. .

As the door slide open, the traffic noise and vibration from the ground level came flooding in, with them, strings of gentle but persistent bird chirping sound too.

The next day, I opened up the large glass door to connect the flat with the outside, something (again) I very rarely did before — I preferred conditioned air over humidity.

"How come I was so busy?" I wondered. And I could almost hear the universe saying with a Cheshire grin, "Well, now you are in for a treat then, 'cos there is so much more to see!" . And there is.

It was like watching the mountains performing a long and complete exhale — quite a soothing view really! And there, I realised that I had never taken a pause to watch a sunset like this for the two years I lived here!.

. with no couch to drop into, no TV to switch on, no books, nor shelves to pull them off from, I simply sat on the only stool there is and stared at the mountains outside, as they slowly darkened and surrendered into the night.

This time though, things couldn't be more different. In quarantine, there is nowhere else for me to go, no weekend parties to plan, and the apartment completely empty. And dusty. I wiped the floors with a small towel on the 1st afternoon. Exhausted. .

Staying active at all times was a given, and having a full calendar stacked with events in and outside work felt very much "carpe diem". "Full" seemed like the right state to be in. This was also reflected in the layout of my apartment at the time — cosy and full!.

The life of a journalist is constantly in motion. And when it is not, she is cooking up plans to kickstart the next move. The beast of the 24-hour news cycle casts a spell of ADHD over its patrons and its warriors.

The last time I lived in this apartment, I was a producer with CNN, traveling frequently between Beijing & Hong Kong.