While living and teaching in Hong Kong, I began photographing basketball courts. They appeared everywhere: beside schools, between housing towers, painted on rooftops and in open courtyards. What drew me first was not the game itself but the geometry of colour and the rhythm of repetition — circles, lines and rectangles that seemed both functional and quietly meditative.

Hong Kong’s courts are more than sporting grounds. They are stages of collective life, woven into the architecture of the city. Many are found within the vast public housing estates that define its skyline, including Choi Hung, Lai Chi Kok and Wah Fu. These spaces act as social condensers where everyday life gathers and circulates, merging recreation with observation and community interaction¹².

When I photographed these places, I was as interested in what remained as in what was absent. The painted markings, scuffed surfaces and drifting leaves carried traces of energy now suspended. These were spaces once filled with sound and movement that, for a brief moment, had fallen still. The images trace that quiet interval when the echo of play lingers in the air and colour becomes the main subject.

This zine gathers those moments. It is a visual study of Hong Kong through fragments of space and form, through places once full of life that, for an instant, stand still. Each court becomes a kind of portrait — of a city, of its communities, and of the pulse that continues even when no one is there³.