Latest news with #Heming
Yahoo
09-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Bruce Willis' Quiet Struggle With Dementia During His Final Acting Days Revealed In Wife's New Memoir
Emma Heming Willis' upcoming memoir, "The Unexpected Journey," gives insight into Bruce Willis' battle with frontotemporal dementia. The book reveals how the movie star managed to act during the early stage of his dementia struggle, with behind-the-scenes support, including reduced dialogue and an earpiece feeding him lines. Bruce Willis's health decline was first publicly acknowledged in 2022 with aphasia, later diagnosed as FTD, leading to his retirement. In her forthcoming memoir "The Unexpected Journey," set for release on September 9, 2025, Heming opens up for the first time about her husband Willis' quiet but determined fight to keep working as his health began to decline. In the book, Heming recalled how the legendary "Die Hard" actor spent his last few years in Hollywood navigating the early signs of frontotemporal dementia (FTD), and how filmmakers and close friends worked behind the scenes to support him as symptoms started to interfere with his performance. According to excerpts cited by The Daily Beast, directors began tailoring scripts to reduce Willis' dialogue. A longtime friend was even brought in to feed him lines discreetly through an earpiece during production. These quiet accommodations enabled Willis to continue acting in films like "Assassin" (2023) and the "Detective Knight trilogy" (2022–2023) without alerting audiences to the challenges he was facing. Taking to Instagram, Heming shared the deeper purpose behind her upcoming book, "The Unexpected Journey." She explained that the memoir was born out of her own experience navigating her husband Willis' diagnosis, and her desire to offer support to others facing similar challenges. "I really wrote the book that I wish someone had handed me the day we got our diagnosis with no hope, no direction … not much," she shared. "Today, life looks different for me and our family because I was able to put support into place." Heming emphasized that the book "isn't a memoir, it's a self-help guide for caregivers, written to hold space for our heartbreak and our healing." In the comment section of Heming's post, fans praised her for creating the book due to the valuable resources it contains, especially for family members of individuals with dementia. One user wrote: "I can't wait to read this! I am just starting my journey of caregiving for my husband with BvFTD. You're an inspiration." Another said, "I cannot wait to read. Thank you for writing this. When my mom was diagnosed with Lewy Body dementia, I almost had a nervous breakdown from just the fear of what my caregiver journey would be." They added, "I had no guidance or support and didn't know where to turn. Your book will help so many. Sending you thanks and prayers to you and Bruce, and your family." Prior to Heming's memoir, a 2022 Los Angeles Times investigation had shed light on the cognitive challenges Willis was quietly facing on film sets before his official retirement. In the final three years of his acting career, Willis starred in 22 low-budget action movies, and as the cameras rolled, those around him began to notice unsettling changes. Once known for his sharp delivery and commanding presence, Willis had become noticeably disoriented. He relied heavily on an earpiece to be fed his lines and at times struggled to stay oriented, occasionally forgetting the context of the scene, or even why he was on set. Director Jesse V. Johnson, who worked with Willis on "White Elephant" and had known him from earlier in his stuntman days, recalled the shift. "It was clear that he was not the Bruce I remembered," he said, per the Daily Mail. Johnson recounted a moment during filming when Willis turned to the crew and said, "I know why you're here, and I know why you're here, but why am I here?" To ease the pressure on the star, the production team was advised to wrap up all of Willis' scenes before lunchtime. Willis' health struggles were finally made public in 2022, when his family shared he had been diagnosed with aphasia, a disorder that impairs communication and language. As reported by The Blast, in early 2023, the actor's diagnosis was updated to frontotemporal dementia (FTD), a progressive neurological condition that affects behavior, cognition, and speech. Following the news, Willis officially retired from acting, stepping away from the spotlight to focus on his health and spend time with loved ones. While he now lives largely out of the public eye, his wife Heming and their daughters occasionally share meaningful updates with fans.
Yahoo
07-06-2025
- Yahoo
Chengdu's ancient teahouses are going viral—here's why
This article was produced by National Geographic Traveller (UK). It's barely 9am when I slide into a bamboo armchair at Heming Tea House in Chengdu's sprawling People's Park. This century-old stalwart is one of the oldest teahouses in the megacity that I called home until I was nine. While I was growing up here, in one of China's oldest tea-growing areas, many weekends were spent in an open-air teahouse like this one. While adults played games of mahjong and the kids ran riot, roving hawkers carrying heavy baskets balanced on bamboo shoulder poles would come round selling snacks. The most famous of these is dan dan mian (shoulder pole noodles), where a nest of cold noodles is placed on a hot and tongue-numbing mala chilli oil base, topped with spring onion and minced meat, then mixed and greedily devoured. But as I sip my grassy mao feng green tea, I'm struck by how unusually busy it is. Hordes of tourists with phones in video mode stream past the chairs crammed under teak pavilions and beige parasols. Most seats already filled by pensioners putting the world to rights or families cracking into toasted sunflower seeds. A group of photography students is playing cards next to me, their backs turned on a pile of cameras carelessly stacked on a spare chair. I lean over and ask why there are so many people here on a weekday. One of the students looks up and tells me Heming has lately gained wang hong ('internet fame') with Chinese travellers — the local expression for going viral. Later, I head to Lao Chuzi Sichuan Restaurant for a family gathering. The low-key restaurant and teahouse on the top floor of a four-storey office block isn't particularly well known, but my uncle picked it because it's a favourite in his neighbourhood, and it serves a stellar line-up of Sichuan dishes, including garlic-infused fish, fragrant aubergine and thin slices of poached pork served with a drizzle of sesame-laced chilli sauce. I bring up the wang hong phenomenon. 'There are wang hong places everywhere now and business is booming,' my uncle tells me, noting a similarly popular place down the road: 11th Street. Later, we stroll over to take a look. Amid the low-rise residential blocks is a row of a dozen or so two-storey buildings, their exposed wooden beams and pitched roofs incongruous with the more modern surroundings. Each houses a hole-in-the-wall joint; their names — like Xiangxiang Mian ('alley noodles') or Du Youyou Boboji ('Du Youyou's spicy skewers') — advertise their specialities. Wooden tables and bamboo chairs spill onto the street in front, where there are as many people taking photos as there are noisily eating. 'These all used to be teahouses,' says my uncle, who's lived in the neighbourhood for over 30 years and watched the buildings' metamorphosis into buzzy restaurants. Before that, this ramshackle collective was made up of homes built during the tumultuous period after the Qing dynasty ended in 1912 and before the People's Republic of China was established in 1949. Since the 1990s, billions of pounds of investment have poured into Chengdu from the central government and private developers, triggering a building boom that's given large swathes of the city a complete facelift. These buildings have somehow escaped the demolitions that razed their neighbours, and ironically their rundown appearance may now become their saving grace as people seek to hold on to the last vestiges of an old Chengdu. In recent years, there's been a concerted effort to protect and redevelop old buildings with heritage value — the type that don't hold historical significance, like temples and monuments, but still have a place in the city's history. One of the more sensitively done projects is the downtown Taikoo Li shopping and entertainment complex, where a handful of 19th-century homes surrounding Daci Temple were restored and given a new lease of life a decade ago. Mi Xun Teahouse, the Michelin-starred vegetarian restaurant at The Temple House hotel, occupies one of these. The grey brick walls of this single-storey building — set aside from the modern tower that makes up the main hotel — hide a tranquil courtyard that transforms into a wood-panelled al fresco dining spot in fine weather, a single tree providing dappled shade. It's here that I meet executive chef Tony Xu, who tells me that in the beginning Mi Xun was just supposed to be a teahouse. 'Because Chengdu is very big on tea, we started with tea and some snacks,' he says, explaining that teahouses almost always serve some kind of food. 'But more and more people were requesting our food, so we added more dishes to the menu. And now people mainly come for the food.' Tony takes inspiration from Buddhist culinary traditions in a nod to the temple next door, and so the menu is vegetarian with a very subtle use of spices and no garlic or onion. He is also an innovator, preparing dishes such as a vegan dan dan mian, made with an egg-free noodle of his own creation, containing wheat and cake flour for extra bite and spinach juice for colour; and mapo tofu, which is flavoured with mushrooms instead of the traditional pork mince. The result is a modern take on classic Sichuan flavours, with striking visual appeal. For the tea connoisseur, Mi Xun also offers a selection of premium brews such as da hong pao from Fujian province, and Pu'er from Yunnan, served in a pared-down version of the traditional gongfu tea-preparation ritual. Instead of an elaborate ceremony where a tea master washes the leaves, warms the tiny cups and prepares the tea, some of these stages are done behind the scenes. All the guests need do is steep the tea according to their preference. Attention is still paid to the drinkware — green tea always served in a glass pot, for example, while red tea comes in white ceramic. 'We've simplified things so everyone can enjoy the experience and take joy from tasting tea,' says teahouse manager Yvonne Du. Tea is cheap and widely available in Chengdu — meaning it's enjoyed by a wide cross-section of society. 'You'll find teahouses all over China,' explains Susan Yin, a guide at food tour company Lost Plate. 'In Chengdu, tea is for everyone. It doesn't matter what your background is, or whether you're rich or poor.' Yin is my guide for a food tour just east of the downtown area. The company's co-founder, Ruixi Hu, lives in Chengdu and designed the itinerary around some of her favourite haunts. As part of the tour, we hop into a cramped tuk-tuk that whizzes us around the neighbourhood. At one stop, we try dan hong gao, fluffy pancakes stuffed with a mix of sesame, crushed peanuts and sugar. At another, we tuck into enormous bowls of freshly made pork wontons, some in plain broth and some swimming in fragrant chilli oil. We also stop at casual noodle shop Tang Dan Dan Tian Shui Mian, visited by the late US chef Anthony Bourdain for his CNN show Parts Unknown, and slurp through bowls of tian shui mian ('sweet water noodles') — a thick, springy, hand-cut variety that comes slicked in a sweet, peanut and sesame paste sauce. It's only when we sit down at a restaurant serving jiang hu cuisine — a rough-and-ready style of cooking that has its origins in the street markets of Sichuan, a province that's big on flavour intensity — that Yin and I finally get some time to chat. As we liberate chunks of dry-fried chicken from underneath piles of chillies, and fish out tender slivers of beef from a spicy broth, Yin tells me she settled in Chengdu over a decade ago for two very simple reasons: the food and the lifestyle. Taking a sip of buckwheat tea, she adds: 'Chengdu is a laid-back city, and the best way to experience this is in a teahouse.' Published in the July/August 2025 issue of National Geographic Traveller (UK).To subscribe to National Geographic Traveller (UK) magazine click here. (Available in select countries only).


National Geographic
07-06-2025
- National Geographic
In the Sichuan capital, renewed heritage appreciation is helping ancient teahouses go viral
This article was produced by National Geographic Traveller (UK). It's barely 9am when I slide into a bamboo armchair at Heming Tea House in Chengdu's sprawling People's Park. This century-old stalwart is one of the oldest teahouses in the megacity that I called home until I was nine. While I was growing up here, in one of China's oldest tea-growing areas, many weekends were spent in an open-air teahouse like this one. While adults played games of mahjong and the kids ran riot, roving hawkers carrying heavy baskets balanced on bamboo shoulder poles would come round selling snacks. The most famous of these is dan dan mian (shoulder pole noodles), where a nest of cold noodles is placed on a hot and tongue-numbing mala chilli oil base, topped with spring onion and minced meat, then mixed and greedily devoured. But as I sip my grassy mao feng green tea, I'm struck by how unusually busy it is. Hordes of tourists with phones in video mode stream past the chairs crammed under teak pavilions and beige parasols. Most seats already filled by pensioners putting the world to rights or families cracking into toasted sunflower seeds. Heming Tea House has lately gained wang hong ('internet fame') with Chinese travellers — the local expression for going viral. Photograph by Getty Images, Plej92 A group of photography students is playing cards next to me, their backs turned on a pile of cameras carelessly stacked on a spare chair. I lean over and ask why there are so many people here on a weekday. One of the students looks up and tells me Heming has lately gained wang hong ('internet fame') with Chinese travellers — the local expression for going viral. Later, I head to Lao Chuzi Sichuan Restaurant for a family gathering. The low-key restaurant and teahouse on the top floor of a four-storey office block isn't particularly well known, but my uncle picked it because it's a favourite in his neighbourhood, and it serves a stellar line-up of Sichuan dishes, including garlic-infused fish, fragrant aubergine and thin slices of poached pork served with a drizzle of sesame-laced chilli sauce. I bring up the wang hong phenomenon. 'There are wang hong places everywhere now and business is booming,' my uncle tells me, noting a similarly popular place down the road: 11th Street. Later, we stroll over to take a look. Amid the low-rise residential blocks is a row of a dozen or so two-storey buildings, their exposed wooden beams and pitched roofs incongruous with the more modern surroundings. Each houses a hole-in-the-wall joint; their names — like Xiangxiang Mian ('alley noodles') or Du Youyou Boboji ('Du Youyou's spicy skewers') — advertise their specialities. Wooden tables and bamboo chairs spill onto the street in front, where there are as many people taking photos as there are noisily eating. 'These all used to be teahouses,' says my uncle, who's lived in the neighbourhood for over 30 years and watched the buildings' metamorphosis into buzzy restaurants. Before that, this ramshackle collective was made up of homes built during the tumultuous period after the Qing dynasty ended in 1912 and before the People's Republic of China was established in 1949. Since the 1990s, billions of pounds of investment have poured into Chengdu from the central government and private developers, triggering a building boom that's given large swathes of the city a complete facelift. These buildings have somehow escaped the demolitions that razed their neighbours, and ironically their rundown appearance may now become their saving grace as people seek to hold on to the last vestiges of an old Chengdu. Head chef, Steven Tan, stands proudly at Mi Xun Teahouse at The Temple House hotel. Before it was a Michelin-starred vegetarian restaurant, Mi Xun started with tea and snacks until more and more people requested the food. Heming Tea House is a century-old stalwart, and one of the oldest teahouses in the megacity of Chengdu. Photograph by Alamy, Lejeanvre Philippe In recent years, there's been a concerted effort to protect and redevelop old buildings with heritage value — the type that don't hold historical significance, like temples and monuments, but still have a place in the city's history. One of the more sensitively done projects is the downtown Taikoo Li shopping and entertainment complex, where a handful of 19th-century homes surrounding Daci Temple were restored and given a new lease of life a decade ago. Mi Xun Teahouse, the Michelin-starred vegetarian restaurant at The Temple House hotel, occupies one of these. The grey brick walls of this single-storey building — set aside from the modern tower that makes up the main hotel — hide a tranquil courtyard that transforms into a wood-panelled al fresco dining spot in fine weather, a single tree providing dappled shade. It's here that I meet executive chef Tony Xu, who tells me that in the beginning Mi Xun was just supposed to be a teahouse. 'Because Chengdu is very big on tea, we started with tea and some snacks,' he says, explaining that teahouses almost always serve some kind of food. 'But more and more people were requesting our food, so we added more dishes to the menu. And now people mainly come for the food.' Tony takes inspiration from Buddhist culinary traditions in a nod to the temple next door, and so the menu is vegetarian with a very subtle use of spices and no garlic or onion. He is also an innovator, preparing dishes such as a vegan dan dan mian, made with an egg-free noodle of his own creation, containing wheat and cake flour for extra bite and spinach juice for colour; and mapo tofu, which is flavoured with mushrooms instead of the traditional pork mince. The result is a modern take on classic Sichuan flavours, with striking visual appeal. Executive chef at Mi Xun Teahouse, Tony Xu takes inspiration from Buddhist culinary traditions in a nod to the temple next door, so the menu is vegetarian with a very subtle use of spices. He is also an innovator, preparing dishes such as mapo tofu, which is flavoured with mushrooms instead of the traditional pork mince. The result is a modern take on classic Sichuan flavours, with striking visual appeal. Photograph by Jiang Xiaodan For the tea connoisseur, Mi Xun also offers a selection of premium brews such as da hong pao from Fujian province, and Pu'er from Yunnan, served in a pared-down version of the traditional gongfu tea-preparation ritual. Instead of an elaborate ceremony where a tea master washes the leaves, warms the tiny cups and prepares the tea, some of these stages are done behind the scenes. All the guests need do is steep the tea according to their preference. Attention is still paid to the drinkware — green tea always served in a glass pot, for example, while red tea comes in white ceramic. 'We've simplified things so everyone can enjoy the experience and take joy from tasting tea,' says teahouse manager Yvonne Du. Tea is cheap and widely available in Chengdu — meaning it's enjoyed by a wide cross-section of society. 'You'll find teahouses all over China,' explains Susan Yin, a guide at food tour company Lost Plate. 'In Chengdu, tea is for everyone. It doesn't matter what your background is, or whether you're rich or poor.' Yin is my guide for a food tour just east of the downtown area. The company's co-founder, Ruixi Hu, lives in Chengdu and designed the itinerary around some of her favourite haunts. As part of the tour, we hop into a cramped tuk-tuk that whizzes us around the neighbourhood. At one stop, we try dan hong gao, fluffy pancakes stuffed with a mix of sesame, crushed peanuts and sugar. At another, we tuck into enormous bowls of freshly made pork wontons, some in plain broth and some swimming in fragrant chilli oil. We also stop at casual noodle shop Tang Dan Dan Tian Shui Mian, visited by the late US chef Anthony Bourdain for his CNN show Parts Unknown, and slurp through bowls of tian shui mian ('sweet water noodles') — a thick, springy, hand-cut variety that comes slicked in a sweet, peanut and sesame paste sauce. Each houses a hole-in-the-wall joint; their names — like Xiangxiang Mian ('alley noodles') or Du Youyou Boboji ('Du Youyou's spicy skewers') — advertise their specialities. Wooden tables and bamboo chairs spill onto 11th Street in front, where there are as many people taking photos as there are noisily eating. It's only when we sit down at a restaurant serving jiang hu cuisine — a rough-and-ready style of cooking that has its origins in the street markets of Sichuan, a province that's big on flavour intensity — that Yin and I finally get some time to chat. As we liberate chunks of dry-fried chicken from underneath piles of chillies, and fish out tender slivers of beef from a spicy broth, Yin tells me she settled in Chengdu over a decade ago for two very simple reasons: the food and the lifestyle. Taking a sip of buckwheat tea, she adds: 'Chengdu is a laid-back city, and the best way to experience this is in a teahouse.' Audley has a 15-day tour of China, which includes two nights in Chengdu, as well as time in Beijing, Xi'an, Guilin, Yangshuo and Shanghai. From £5,495 per person, including flights, transfers, B&B accommodation and excursions, such as the Lost Plate food tour. This story was created with the support of Audley. Published in the July/August 2025 issue of National Geographic Traveller (UK). To subscribe to National Geographic Traveller (UK) magazine click here. (Available in select countries only).


Global News
23-05-2025
- Global News
Okanagan musician falls victim to Facebook Marketplace scam
Online realities can shift into real-life nightmares in an instant. Kinga Heming is well known for her voice in the Okanagan and has been singing jazz tunes at venues throughout the valley for years. 'I received a text message from a girlfriend of mine saying that I think your Facebook has been hacked,' said Heming. Heming found that her Facebook profile had, in fact, been hacked. '(My friend) says, 'Well, apparently you have an uncle selling a whole bunch of items because he's moving into a retirement facility.'' As a trusted name in the Okanagan, the singer has gone from famous to infamous. 'People were actually believing that, because with my profile, it was me,' said Heming. Story continues below advertisement 'So there was messages that were, you know, that were sent to my profile, just requesting these items and people were sending deposits.' Get breaking National news For news impacting Canada and around the world, sign up for breaking news alerts delivered directly to you when they happen. Sign up for breaking National newsletter Sign Up By providing your email address, you have read and agree to Global News' Terms and Conditions and Privacy Policy Then the scammer posted several false ads on Facebook Marketplace, posing as Heming. She says the scammer has taken at least $10,000 from people, including friends. Lorraine Bromley has known Heming for years, and reached out when she saw who she thought was her friend selling a car. 'I said, 'I'm interested,'' said Bromley. 'Who I thought was her (said), 'Oh, send me a deposit,' and that they won't show it to anybody else.' Bromley is one of the victims of the false ads. She says she had her suspicions, but because she knows Heming, she decided to trust her and send a deposit for $1,000 for a car. 'You're always suspicious of a stranger, right? But … you never think that someone's going to hack into your friend's account and act like them and ask you for money,' said Bromley. Heming and several of the victims have reported the incident to the RCMP. The RCMP says it's aware of similar scams circulating online and issued a warning last year. The RCMP recommends always making Marketplace transactions in public places near security cameras. Story continues below advertisement Heming has since regained access to her Facebook account, but she questions how long she will retain it for. 'It was honestly a full-time job trying to get this guy off my account. And every time I managed to finally get in, he somehow managed to get around me,' said Heming. Heming and her partner, Brad Krauza, have tried to get the word out that they have been hacked. However, the scammer shared their home address with many frustrated victims. 'We're thinking even (when we are) going to bed at night to make sure all the doors are locked,' said Krauza. 'She was worried about, you know, somebody coming to the house.' Heming has locked down her account again but the messages haven't stopped, as more frustrated victims continue to flood her inbox.
Yahoo
14-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Bruce Willis' wife decrees, after Gene Hackman's death, 'Caregivers need care too'
Before Gene Hackman died, his wife, Betsy Arakawa, was the 95-year-old's primary caregiver. Bruce Willis' wife, Emma Heming, has been the "Die Hard" star's primary caregiver since he stepped away from acting in March 2022. The deaths of Arakawa and Hackman, one after the other over the course of a week or so in February, are why Heming is speaking out this week about the importance of caring for caregivers — and anyone who has ever cared for a sick loved one can relate to her message. "There is some learning in this story in regards to this tragic passing of Mr. and Mrs. Hackman," Heming said this week on social media. "It's just made me think of this broader story, and that is that caregivers need care too and that they are vital and that it is so important that we show up for them so that they can continue to show up for their person." Heming didn't mention her situation during her video, choosing instead to make it about the bigger picture. But the unspoken vibe was there. Bruce Willis left acting after he was diagnosed with aphasia and, a while later, with frontotemporal dementia. Read more: His wife dead, an ailing Gene Hackman was stranded alone in his house for days, authorities believe "I think that there's this common misconception that, like, caregivers, they got it figured out, they got it covered, they're good. I don't subscribe to that," Heming said in her Monday video before repeating herself: "I think that we need to show up for them so they can continue to show up for their person." Arakawa, who was 30 years younger than Hackman, was given her due after her death by his daughter Leslie Anne Allen. "I give credit to his wife, Betsy, for keeping him alive," she told a British outlet last week. "[Betsy] took very, very good care of him and was always looking out for his health." The two-time Oscar-winning actor died of heart disease and advanced Alzheimer's. Arakawa died of hantavirus pulmonary syndrome, a rare but frequently fatal disease spread by rodents. Reports have said recently that she was seen wearing a mask — implying she was ill — when she ran errands the last time she was seen in public. Heming was struggling with a cold in a video posted Thursday. Getting sick more often, the Cleveland Clinic says, can be a sign of "caregiver burnout," a real condition with symptoms similar to stress and depression. Read more: Bruce Willis' wife Emma admits she is 'not good' as she copes with life as a caregiver Since it was recently National Caregivers Day, marked annually on the third Friday in February, Heming has been calling attention to those who care for people with Alzheimer's, advanced multiple sclerosis, cancer, stroke, Parkinson's and a host of other conditions that can render people unable to care for themselves. "Caregiving takes a village, yet most are doing it alone. And let me tell you — it's not sustainable," she wrote Tuesday on social media. "Check in on caregivers. Show up for them. Without them, none of this works." On Feb. 21, she captioned a photo, "Caregivers don't have the bandwidth to make another decision — so take it off their plate. Tell them what you can do. It will make all the difference." In the message that ran with that caption, she wrote, "Let's stop saying, 'Let me know if there is anything I can do to help,' and start saying, 'Here's how I can help.' " In another video, Heming chided doctors for not lining up resources in advance so they are ready to help support patients and their families on the day a diagnosis is made. Read more: Concerns about Bruce Willis' declining cognitive state swirled around sets in recent years "Doctors really need to have a road map of just some support, which is exactly the reason why I wrote my book, because I was handed a pamphlet. I was not handed one resource, and we've got to put put an end to that," she said, referring to "The Unexpected Journey: Finding Strength, Hope, and Yourself on the Caregiving Path," due out this September. Then she asked her followers to tell her what materials they had received from their doctors, and their wishes for information that wasn't provided. "The thing that just boggles my mind," Heming said, "is how do our doctors not already have a Rolodex of how to support caregivers? So that is something that I can't wait to dig into." Sign up for Indie Focus, a weekly newsletter about movies and what's going on in the wild world of cinema. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.