Only after drawing Hong Kong did I begin to appreciate the nuance and vibrancy of the city; a place I had lived in for the majority of my life. Since I had always known the city, I had inevitably taken it for granted. It forced me to look at it from a different perspective, through the dark, dripping alleyways, the silhouette of grime and dust on neon light soaked streets and in the lines on the faces of those who were part of this network and which the network was part of them. An amazing and deeply dystopic metropolis where its stories are etched into the weathered walls of stumpy old buildings boxed in beside one another; the earthy rust and weathered colours on lopsided stalls selling, smaller earthy and weathered trinkets. I developed a new sense of gratitude for the momentary wonder that was Hong Kong, a place that shall never be again.