A Man With His Hands In His Pockets Art

a painting of a shirtless man with his hands on his chest
a man standing in front of a wall with his hands in his pockets
Inside a home in Petaling Jaya, Wing-Sun, a 10 year old Chinese boy sits cross-legged on the cool tile floor, watching the delicate tendrils of smoke rise from the joss sticks his father has just placed in the family altar’s bronze urn. The flickering candlelight casts shifting shadows over the framed portraits of the ancestors, their solemn faces gazing out from another time. Wing-Sun's father, dressed in crisp slacks and a neatly pressed white shirt, murmurs a quiet prayer, his voice low and rhythmic. Beside him, Wing-Sun’s mother clasps her hands together in a quiet moment of respect before adjusting the jade bangle on her wrist. Their morning ritual is a quiet, practiced thing; one they perform, and Wing-Sun observes, every day.
a statue of a man holding his hands up
a man holding a silver ball in his hands
Inside an informal church in Kuala Lumpur. Wing Sun and his father and mother, along with Siu Zi, his friend from school are there together. We are standing in the back of the room, and there are many more people than there were in the London church. There are people of different ethnicities, but mostly Chinese Malaysian. The Pastor, a Chinese man, is standing up front speaking to the congregation, facing them. The atmosphere is hot and sweaty, with ceiling fans running, but still welcoming, Wing Sun is happy that his family is together and also that his friend Siu Zi, who he has just learned is a Christian, can be there too.
a man is jumping in the air with his hands in the air
a shirtless man holding a rope in his hands
a man with a knife in his hand
a statue of a man covering his face with his hands
a painting of a man with his arms crossed
a painting of a man with wings on his body
a painting of a man with a knife in his hand
a man leaning against a wall with his hands behind his head
At his Grandmother's house in Penang, Wing Sun is lying down on a futon in his bedroom, covered up with a beautiful lightweight quilt Grandma made. Outside his room the rain is coming down. In Penang, every corner of the old town—every whisper of the wind through ancient trees—seems to echo with promises of renewal and love. And as the rain softens outside, Wing-Sun closes his eyes with the comforting knowledge that every detour, every farewell, is simply a step toward a new beginning. A lantern gives soft light to the room, and all is quiet.
a painting of a man holding his hand to his head
Inside a large office building in London, on the 5th floor, Wing Sun's father, a Chinese Malaysian man in his 30s, speaks to his counterpart in the company, and English man, about business. Other workers are seated at their desks and standing at a copy machine. There are some Black people, but mostly British. One whole wall of the room is glass and we can see something of London outside.
a painting of a man with his arms outstretched
a painting of a man with wings on his body
a shirtless man holding a rope in his hands
Nayoma washed his bowl and sat down in a meditative state. I’ll meditate first, then practice Bushin no Jutsu, then Body Flicker, then wall walking. After that, I’ll take a cold shower and sleep. He opened his eyes, jumped out of meditation, and formed the hand signs for Clone Jutsu. A puff of smoke appeared, and a clone popped up right in front of him. It wasn’t perfect — its earlobes were stretched oddly — but it was still a success. Well, not so perfect… but with time I’ll correct my mistakes. Hmn, I guess I really had it easier than Naruto. I’m sure even Kibe‑sensei couldn’t do this on his first try. The clone disappeared with a puff of smoke, leaving Nayoma standing there, satisfied but already thinking about the next step.
a man in a tank top holding out his hands
a bronze statue of a man holding his hands up
a painting of a man with his arms spread out
a man with a glass of wine in his hand
a man standing in the dark with his hand on his chin
a man sitting against a wall with his hands on his knees
At the bustling Kuala Lumpur airport, Wing-Sun and his Mother say farewell to his father before he leaves for a six‐week business trip to London. We see Wing Sun and his mother from the back, as Father stands on the escalator going up to his departure gate, and turns toward us to wave goodbye. Many other passengers and children are standing around. The airport is modern and well lit.
a statue of a man with his arms in the air
a painting of a man with a bird in his hand
a statue of a man with his arms in the air
a statue of a man with his arms outstretched
a statue of a man with his arms outstretched
a statue of a man with his arms outstretched
a painting of a man with a knife in his hand
a painting of a man with an eagle on his shoulders
a drawing of a man with his arms outstretched
a painting of a man with his arms in the air
a painting of a man standing with his arms crossed
a painting of a man with a knife in his hand
a painting of a man with a knife in his hand
a statue of a man with a knife in his hand