We never thought painting the walls would be so difficult - and risky - until we stood in our newly painted corridor, awe-struck.
The lights dimmed. The curtains parted. Two files of flag-bearing soldiers marched onstage and planted themselves to the side - a sign, as fans of Peking Opera would know - of a commander coming. Suddenly, everything fell silent.
I realized early my parents were not equal. Mom said Dad risked being demoted when he went AWOL one night and took a train to see her. Their life together didn't appear to be happy. Mom grew up in a family of scholars and loved writing. Dad joined the army at 17. He'd stumble when reading the newspaper.
It was a freezing winter's day in Beijing. In an almost-empty unheated storage space in the Fengtai District, Ma Yuquan busied himself with piles of cardboard that lay against the wall.
Liu Xiechang is passionate about two things, illustrations and pull-top cans. He is proud to show visitors to his old apartment in Beijing's west side where he keeps his immense collection of sketches, most of which are from newspapers and magazines of the 1970s and '80s, and cans of soda, beer and juice.
There is a hair salon near my home. But it's not called a hair salon, it's name is the Plastic Center. The people who work there look unusual: They have holes in their ears, rings in their noses, and they all wear shiny black silk suits and snow white kungfu shoes.
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Raymond Zhou
Op Rana
Berlin Fang
Zhu Yuan
Huang Xiangyang
Chen Weihua
