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I was shocked to read about Chua Ek Kay's death in the news this morning.

I met him several times in the course of work 11 years ago. My caucasian boss was embarrassed to have to serve him only english tea at their first meeting that she went out and made sure she had a chinese tea set for him the next time.

I learned how to make two good cups of tea from that job.

I thought it interesting because here was traditional chinese watercolour painting, as we spoke I found him to be rather westernized in thinking. I thought it notable he went back to school several times even when he got into middle age.

When I read about his cultural medallion award later, I was thinking "nice one, thanks to him now I know they give this stuff to down-to-earth fellows"

Years later, I saw the familiar brush strokes at Clarke Quay MRT and felt a comforting feeling.

I had always wanted to meet him again, perhaps by some chance. I didn't try too hard. Wanted to stay in the flow.

Now I can only offer my respects. Should have done this long ago.