I wish I could have gone to Singapore for the Biennale so that I could check out Ming Wong’s work. I really liked his show in Venice in 2009.

I wrote a review of Against Easy Listening at 1a Space for LEAP.

I wrote a report on the art market in Hong Kong.

Also: my feet are freezing cold. Winter in Hong Kong is brutal. The temperature in my apartment is roughly the same as the temperature outside. I’m tempted to go to yoga at seven a.m. tomorrow just so I can wash my hair in a space that has seemingly limitless hot water.

And I’m no longer reviewing True Legend, so I can now tell you that it’s pretty bad. Jay Chou looks like he’s been eating Big Macs for dinner every night. And Zhou Xun is hardly her usual fabulous self. It’s a mess of a film.

By the way, Hong Kong Arts Festival events kick off next week! I have several great interviews lined up…stay tuned.

Excuse me, I have a giant pot of yam sugar water to drink, as well as five Olympic events to catch up on. I want to go to bed now just to stay warm.

The four-day weekend was glorious, save for the fact that I have a serious toothache brought on by my sugar diet. I wish I could say that I made progress on writing, but mostly I cleaned and tidied my apartment and watched the Olympics. What can I say, I like watching people race around in circles. I also did a lot of eating, headed out to Cheung Chau and saw True Legend. (I’m reviewing it; I saw two films for work this weekend. How is it that I’m always working, even when I’m supposed to be on holiday?)

Last night, H and I had a long conversation about the state of contemporary art in Hong Kong, and the reasons why the museum system here fails to mount inspiring exhibitions. We had this conversation while eating steaks and fried shrimp at Tony Roma’s. (Yeah, haha, we’re not into hotspots. We had drinks in the quiet lobby of the Park Lane Hotel afterwards—I prefer to drink somewhere where I can have a proper conversation. Loud bars are only really any good if your companions are dimwits, and if that’s the case, why bother? I have never met a guy hot enough to be forgiven for being stupid, and I have no time for women who have nothing to say.) Anyhow, I do like the Heritage Museum quite a bit, though I haven’t been out to visit it in some time. But the Museum of Art depresses me. Sometimes I really miss the fact that in New York I could roll out of bed and see really amazing art—there were so many great exhibitions that I quite often missed things I really wanted to see because of a deadline or illness or general malaise.

So I told Z that he and I are going to Documenta in 2012. It won’t matter if he has children then—I’m still going to drag him around the world.

I’m lucky I have friends who humour me.

Also, I saw the books on MC’s shelves and I had to stop and ask myself why all my straight guy friends read Baudrillard and Saussure.

I’m not a theoryhead. I frame everything in narrative.