Golden Age

While working on this drawing, I picked up Invisible Planets, a short story collection by various Chinese science fiction authors, translated by the prolific Ken Liu (himself a writer in this genre as well as fantasy). One of these stories is ‘TongTong’s Summer’ written by the accomplished, award-winning scholar Xia Jia; a very sweet story about a young girl responding to her grandfather’s sudden presence in her home when he became too ill to live by himself. Coddled and restricted by TongTong’s well-meaning but overbearing parents, the grandfather was very angry and depressed about his situation at first, but with the help of an AI caretaker, began revolutionizing the healthcare industry from the confines of his bedroom. The writer wrote this as a tribute to the Chinese elderly population: “This story is also dedicated to all the grandmas and grandpas who, each morning, can be seen in the parks practicing taichi, twirling swords, singing opera, dancing, showing off their songbirds, painting, doing calligraphy, playing the accordion. You made me understand that living with an awareness of the closeness of death is nothing to be afraid of.”

Timing lent a significance to the development of this drawing and the serendipitous discovery of Xia Jia’s work; a few months prior, my maternal grandfather passed away. Born in the year of the tiger, he would have been 84 this year. Even though he migrated to Singapore in his youth for the chance of a better life, he’d always considered mainland China his home and his twilight years in Beijing where I was raised to be his happiest ones. He fetched me from school every day on his bicycle and took me on tireless rides around the neighborhood and city to find his friends, challenge people to a game of chess, go the market or simply take in the sights. On his own, he explored the city in every direction for miles in absolute joy and wanderlust, but always found his way back home to be with my grandmother – and the television – again.