Off the Clock 

I occasionally write down thoughts that don’t fit into academic papers, small reflections, unsolved curiosities, or everyday observations. I write in both Chinese and English. As one of my favourite writers, Yiyun Li, said, my Chinese feels like home; my English, increasingly, feels like my unique voice. 

Photography is much the same for me: a way to pause and notice. Seeing through the lens may reveal a different world than we live in. 

I have a personal (secret) website, where I put up some of my writings and photos. Ask me for it if you are interested in it. I am more than happy to share some with you.

Travelling to me is a way of learning, resetting and exploring. I want to know how vast and fascinating this planet can be, how people live in unfamiliar places, and how others, even other creatures, see and adapt to the world. 

Wherever I go, food is always part of that journey. I believe the relationship between people and food is far more complex than nourishment alone. It carries culture, memories and the shape of history. I try to build up my cooking skills due to the deep love for food and the occasional longing for home. Sometimes, cooking feels like meditation. And the smell of something homemade feels like a cure. 

Academic life often means long hours at a desk, eyes fixed on a screen. So in my spare time, I try to stretch the stiff parts of my body. I go to the gym, even though I can only manage very light weights. I run, even if I’m always the slowest on the track. I go hiking, sometimes on trails where I have to use both my hands and feet. Once in a while, I gather the courage to try climbing or bouldering, still scared, but trying.

Recently, I’ve started learning tennis. It’s fast and focused, but playful — and a good reminder that movement can be both effort and joy.