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see video of art and ubc campus https://www.facebook.com/al.tan.3591/videos/10153839562791917/?l=1735615993025849380
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Albert Sze Wei Tan ·
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Like · Reply · Jan 25, 2016 4:47pm

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  1. UnknownFebruary 26, 2016 at 12:05 PM

    https://joyjoyjoyblogjoyscienceblog.wordpress.com/2016/02/26/food-let-food-be-thy-medicine-review-yvr-foodie-dr-albert-tan-604-813-8423/?preview=true&preview_id=22&preview_nonce=39b8407d66&frame-nonce=74b8059efb&iframe=true

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  2. joyscience blog chiyu bank xiamen university canada dr albert sze wei tan 6048138423 dr julie rao 6047109668 https://dralberttan.wixsite.com/mysiteNovember 19, 2024 at 9:51 AM

    The Meaning of Fun

    There was a small town on the edge of a great and vast desert, where nothing particularly special ever seemed to happen. The streets were quiet, the sky often a dull shade of beige, and the people mostly went about their lives without much excitement or expectation. But in this town, there was one thing that stood out—one thing that kept people talking, laughing, and, in many ways, believing that there was something more to life than just the passing of days. It was a little carnival that popped up once every year in the middle of the desert, near the edge of town. The carnival was called "The Funhouse of Life."

    The people who ran it were a peculiar group, led by a man known only as Mr. Mirth. No one knew exactly where Mr. Mirth came from. He didn’t look like he was from this town, or even from anywhere at all. He wore a strange, bright purple suit with sequins that sparkled under the sun, a top hat that was too tall for anyone’s taste, and shoes that made an odd “boing” sound as he walked. His face was always grinning, but not in a creepy way—instead, it seemed as though he was genuinely delighted by the world, despite its absurdities.

    “Come one, come all!” he’d say, his voice a melody of joy that echoed across the dusty streets. “Come see the fun, the folly, the fantastic mystery of life itself!”

    Each year, the carnival attracted a curious crowd. The same townspeople who lived quiet lives—working at shops, teaching in schools, raising families—would gather to watch the lights flash in all directions, to hear the laughter of children, and to smell the sweet, sugary air of cotton candy and popcorn. And every year, the carnival seemed to promise something that, for a brief time, felt real—something that might make the endless cycle of days and years feel worth it.

    One particular year, a young man named Leo, who had recently finished school, decided to attend the carnival for the first time. He had always been a quiet, thoughtful sort, the type who pondered life’s big questions. "What’s the point of all this?" he often asked himself. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the world was just one big, confusing mess of meaningless events. And yet, as the lights of the carnival blinked on in the distance, he felt a strange tug in his chest—a sense of hope, or maybe just curiosity.

    He walked into the Funhouse of Life that evening with a sense of detachment, skeptical of what he would find. But as he stepped inside, the atmosphere was different from what he expected. The usual drabness of the world seemed to vanish. The carnival was alive with strange sounds and colors, and the people around him were laughing, dancing, and shouting with delight. It was impossible not to be swept up in the joy of it all, even if only for a moment.

    At the center of the carnival, on a grand, ornate stage, stood Mr. Mirth. His grin was as wide as ever, his hands outstretched toward the sky.




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