My art serves as a platform for the unearthing of concealed conflicts,
which relentlessly test my capacity to resonate with the collective struggles pertaining to power, inequality, and identity. These intricate subjects captivate my creative spirit, compelling me to explore the underpinnings of the global power structure and the associated value system that prevails. The relentless pursuit of power within our society, coupled with the often selfish and norm-driven behaviors that accompany it, forms a pervasive social malignancy within my reality.
The essence of my artistic endeavor is fundamentally rooted in a response to this profound reality. The persistent images that surround me gnaw at my consciousness, serving as the visceral core of my artistic message. My aspiration is to beckon the viewer into this visual realm, hoping that they, too, will be stirred to react and, in quiet moments, contemplate the conceivable paths forward. At the core of my creative approach lies the deep exploration of the human body and the myriad facets of human nature. I've found that expressions through the human body serve as my paramount means of communication. This method, which I often refer to as the "Way," is an interpretation drawn from the intricacies of my personal journey and memory, encompassing life-altering experiences such as migration to a foreign land, as well as the more subtle yet equally profound occurrences in my life.
The materials I employ in my artistic works are unassuming, ordinary fabrics, deliberately chosen to evoke collective memories and unite us in the exploration of universal fears and desires. These fabrics are malleable, susceptible to being stretched, sewn, and molded, allowing them to transform into a second skin. The mixed media approach affords me the freedom to transcend conventional boundaries, shedding the superfluous, subjective elements, and presenting a more universal perspective.
Having grown up in China before immigrating to the United States, my artistic language adopts a multicultural lens, embracing both
Eastern and Western aesthetic concepts, resulting in a language that is minimal and organic. With every piece I create, my intent remains unwavering - to spark fresh curiosity and challenge the viewer to critically examine the societal boundaries and rules that are so often passively accepted.
In this ever-evolving exploration of power, identity, and the human experience, my art stands as a mirror to our shared struggles and aspirations. Through it, I aspire to connect with others, inviting them to partake in a reflective journey that traverses the intricate web of our collective existence.
The series Moon Phases employs garments once worn by female bodies and earth dust as its primary materials,
using the cyclical structure of the moon’s seven phases to explore the multiple states of female embodiment in relation to the passage of time, modes of viewing, and processes of consumption. The works deliberately avoid directly presenting the body; instead, the forms of the garments and the accumulation and settling of dust allow the female body to emerge through traces, weight, and absence. This mode of presentation preserves a sense of corporeal presence while highlighting its fragility and temporality, creating a tension between visibility and concealment.
In this series, “moon phases” are not merely astronomical symbols or natural phenomena, but rather a temporal scale of bodily experience. The cyclical progression of the seven phases symbolizes the continual alternation of the female body between presence and absence, fullness and depletion, visibility and concealment, suggesting the periodic transformations and accumulated traces of the body over time. The materiality of the garments and dust not only records the marks of daily bodily use but also carries memory and energy, enabling viewers to perceive the body’s existence through these material traces rather than through visual depiction alone.
Moon Phases also emphasizes the relational aspect of viewing. The works invite the audience to engage with the forms, coverings, and sedimentations of garments and dust, prompting reflection on presence and absence, agency and passivity, and the temporal effects on the body and memory. This approach extends the traditional modes of bodily representation in art while attempting to move beyond mere visual depiction, situating the female body within a broader temporal and experiential dimension.
Overall, Moon Phases constructs a visual language centered on bodily experience through cycles, layering, accumulation, and absence, exploring the ways in which female embodiment exists within time, observation, and consumption, and revealing the complex interplay among body, material, and temporality.
1, New Moon,
Clothing is covered with dust, like the darkest phase of the new moon. The body withdraws from visibility; through stretching, stitching, and the settling of dust, traces and weight emerge, also pointing to concealment and depletion within contemporary realities.
2, The waxing crescent,
like a signal of awakening, its light emerges from the edge; “appearance” is defined by luminosity rather than color. It is akin to the body revealing its traces in silence. It alludes to the individual’s existence and nothingness. Existence is not a matter of being “seen,” but of leaving traces; nothingness does not annul existence, but exposes its true weight.
3, First Quarter Moon,
Points to the critical tension borne by structure.
Support here does not imply stability, but a rhythm that is maintained; within it, the body is determined, interrupted, and continuously required to bear the consequences of rupture, leaving visible traces.
It is not a process moving toward completion, but a lunar phase repeatedly shaped by time and will—just as power does not establish itself through repair or fulfillment, but sustains its operation by producing and prolonging rupture.
The cut is not a deficiency, but a chosen and orchestrated form; rupture itself is converted into a resource for structure and order.
4, Waxing Gibbous,
The body gradually swells and bears weight within time. Its form corresponds to the middle phase of the lunar cycle—neither full nor broken, but a threshold state in which energy is being gathered. Dust permeates the fibers, making them dense yet indistinct, like the sediment of emotion, like time slowly settling inside the body.
5, Full Moon,
There is no concealment—this is the moment of the full moon.
The body is filled to its limit, sensation driven to its most acute edge.
Climax is not an event, but a sustained state: visible throughout the night, with no possibility of retreat.
The garment is fully unfolded, like a breath that cannot be taken back.
Its sheen is cool and lucid; the white surges like a tide, yet does not overflow—it simply renders everything visible.
The body is full, taut, impossible to ignore.
When everything is illuminated, existence itself acquires weight.
6, Waning Gibbous,
Amid the loosening of the tides and the retreat of light, the body is no longer a carrier of image but a vessel of traces.
Garments collapse, their tensile support lost—like a period of retrieval after energy has been expended—entering a state of contraction, release, and fatigue.
This is a body in retreat, as if it has absorbed the weight of time itself.
Sagging structures suggest a turning of rhythm and a descent of emotion.
7, Last Quarter，
In the stillness after the ebb, garments crack and deform, their tones cooling and steadily fading, like residual traces of memory weathered after a system has run its course.
Light is halved once again. The body no longer occupies the center, but recedes back into material, entering a state of release and stripping away.
Structures begin to fracture—not through sudden collapse, but through failure brought on by prolonged consumption; energy is drained, order ceases to operate, and what remains is not image, but wear, fissures, and irreparable traces.
The garments verge on “remains”: not vanished subjects, but residues left by systemic operation, sedimented in time, clearing space for the next new moon—for a new narrative.
My work explores the relationship between the chair and the cage,
and the issues of female identity, gender politics, and social control that it raises. My art seeks to challenge traditional societal roles and expectations of women, and to highlight the limitations and restrictions placed upon them.
Through the use of chairs and cages, I explore the dual nature of power and freedom, and how these concepts are intertwined with gender politics. By depicting women as both imprisoned and empowered, I aim to shed light on the complex and often contradictory ways in which women are viewed and treated in society.
In my work, I also draw on local artistic traditions and cultural values to further explore the meanings and symbolism of chairs and cages. For example, in my recent series, I have incorporated elements of traditional Chinese art and symbolism, for example, elements of nature like feathers and driftwood. In addition, I employ rope to connect my various works but also to suggest control and limited freedom.
Ultimately, my art seeks to create a space for dialogue and reflection on the ways in which gender and power intersect in our society. By challenging traditional notions of femininity and advocating for greater freedom and agency for women, I hope to inspire and empower others to do the same.
This series explores the symbiotic relationship between ceramics, the female body,
and plants, constructing a delicate tension through the fusion of materials. Clay, as the central medium, bears the traces of time through its physical properties: malleable when soft, yet unpredictable and hardened after firing, while still retaining its fragility. It undergoes transformation—shaping and breaking, heat and cooling—mirroring the body's experiences of growth, trauma, and healing. Plants, in contrast, intervene in a distinct and heterogeneous manner, engaging in dialogue with the ceramics by embedding themselves within or entwining around them, imbuing the stillness of clay with a sense of dynamic penetration and erosion.
As material languages intertwine, boundaries blur—ceramics are no longer mere vessels, plants are more than embellishments, and the body becomes the core metaphor. Through collision and fusion, these three elements continuously rewrite one another, generating a state of existence that is unstable yet authentic. In the open-ended process of shaping, a spontaneous growth emerges—not only as an extension beyond rigid formal structures but also as an exploration of material relationships in search of a new balance. At the intersection of solid ceramics, the softness of the body, and the vitality of plant life, an undefined texture takes form.
My work explores the relationship between the chair and the cage,
and the issues of female identity, gender politics, and social control that it raises. My art seeks to challenge traditional societal roles and expectations of women, and to highlight the limitations and restrictions placed upon them.
Through the use of chairs and cages, I explore the dual nature of power and freedom, and how these concepts are intertwined with gender politics. By depicting women as both imprisoned and empowered, I aim to shed light on the complex and often contradictory ways in which women are viewed and treated in society.
In my work, I also draw on local artistic traditions and cultural values to further explore the meanings and symbolism of chairs and cages. For example, in my recent series, I have incorporated elements of traditional Chinese art and symbolism, for example, elements of nature like feathers and driftwood. In addition, I employ rope to connect my various works but also to suggest control and limited freedom.
Ultimately, my art seeks to create a space for dialogue and reflection on the ways in which gender and power intersect in our society. By challenging traditional notions of femininity and advocating for greater freedom and agency for women, I hope to inspire and empower others to do the same.
This exhibition focused on memory, with the interpretations and reflections upon the concept exemplified in the curated selection of works,
encompassing 16 new and recent works. Multiple dimensions of memory are explored in this distinctive practice – personal and familial, public and historical, spiritual and subconscious. Throughout, the fragility and mystery of memories and their making serve as creative fodder, while the process of art-making itself becomes an exercise in remembering.
I use mixed media works using earthen materials, natural pigments, fabric, and rice paper, along with a combination of found, collected, and treasured items from the my life. Warm-toned, loose pigments are adhered to each assemblage, resembling dust – an aesthetic and conceptual rock of my practice that signifies the organic cycles of life. Informed by the concept of “wabi-sabi” and my experience of living in Japan for 13 years, I relish the imperfections in both the natural world and my work, always leaving evidence of my hand to connect with viewers. Layers upon layers of fabric and rice paper, at times totaling between 20 and 30 strata, resemble the chaos and complexity of memory and its manipulation over time. Myriad objects, from seashells to used tea bags, anchor my abstract depictions of the psyche in the concrete ephemera that scaffold her recollections.
The past two years have been like wading in quicksand,
difficult and long. Because of the spread of the pandemic, our bodies are physically stuck. The daily news exasperates and generates a psychological sadness as well as anxiety. All kinds of panic and uncertainty make people feel at a loss, like watching a tragedy in the brightness of the sun. There is a strong sense of unreality. The word death has become less and less shapeless, and it has become less and less distant. I started to feel lucky to be alive.
Because of the pandemic, my home and studio were my only refuge. In this relatively closed space, one can see oneself more clearly in loneliness, that is, macroscopically and microscopically, listening to oneself, the body becomes a comprehensive receptor of perception and memory, and it breaks through the limitations of the body, just like a tearing away emotions. The original background of human nature can provide a space for everyone in the changes of the environment, making people feel both isolated and interdependent. Think about it, isn’t this world made up of every fragile individual? This kind of consciousness has undoubtedly broadened the breadth of understanding life and has become an emotional driving force. Because distance makes me pay more attention to everything in front of me, objects large and small bring very specific information in my eyes. They are both interdependent and magical. Any small form can affect my sight and nerves more than ever. I use this vehicle of discovery to connect my works. Maybe only by working non-stop can I calm my anxiety. I want the work to make up for the lack of security and find a flowing soft healing to allow me to reflect my own way, and let the vision touch the real existence in an illusory reality.
The diary is one of a series of works.
I have made more than one hundred works of this diary series, large and small, in different formats. They are recording all kinds of feelings this year. Because the epidemic is isolated from people, but the daily news comes in different ways, and sometimes it suddenly feels tranced and untrue, and some things seem to exist but not exist. Very uncertain, but there is always something heavy lingering.
2020 feels like wading in quicksand,
difficult and unending. The spread of the pandemic has left me feeling physically and psychologically trapped filled with sadness, anger, and anxiety. All kinds of panic and uncertainty contribute to confusion. What are we to do? I look out the window in the morning at a beautiful day, but there is a strong sense of unreality. This includes my individual life, affections, relationships and my place in society. The word death has become more and more shapeless as it beomes less and less distant. Sometimes I feeI lucky to be alive.
Because of the pandemic, my home became my refuge. We are forced to isolate and maintain distance. The physical, psychological, and emotional consequences are contradictory and complicated, isolated yet interdependent. Social media is flooded with real and false news every day. In this relatively closed space, I feel a deep uncertainty about the world. The only thing I can confirm is my body's response to the outside world. I want to understand myself through the perception and awareness of body and mind. The body is not just a vehicle that carries consciousness. Without a body, without intuition, we would not exist. The pliability of our body, from birth to death, exists in a conservation of rhythm. Our neuroplasticity plays a role in our daily activities, constantly influencing the brain's response to experience. All the unknowns, potentials, and future changes exist in ourselves. The intricate yet fragile mechanisms that arise from the internal body are implemented in my work, like a transformation from the body to a visible translation establishing a real internal state, sometimes clear, sometimes ambiguous, attractive but filled with tension. This forms a kind of landscape, a kind of dialogue from inside to outside that occurs naturally. This includes physical and psychological entanglement and sensitivity. It is as if one can see the destruction, disappearance, splitting, and the rhythm of nerve endings. At the same time, I’m aware of a kind of body temperature, soft flowing, continuous and warm. I search for the material existence and psychological trajectory of the individual.
I like to choose familiar materials such as cloth and rice paper. These materials are both fragile and enduring. The stretchable cloth is malleable almost acting like a second skin. Rice paper is a material that I have never given up since learning from a young age. I like the flow of ink and the resulting texture. This tangible yet changing feeling always affects my vision throughout the production process. This allows me to follow my body and feel connected. More importantly, I like the free expression that emphasizes subjective feelings.
I use this method of self-discovery to connect with my work. My work is part of a self-healing exercise. I try to tap into the unspoken wisdom of my body. Ironically, as I’m engaged in this process of self-examination, we have to rely on virtual communication through the computer. I am forced to feel reality virtually. Perhaps only by working non-stop can I calm my anxiety. I want to make the work sound in its own way and let the visual interaction touch real existence. It’s hard to know what to trust, but I choose to trust what I see and represent it in my work.
Incursion is not only physical, but psychological.
It could be an obvious intrusion or collision, a slow infiltration or a kind of nervous disorder. The violation of physical rights and moral rights originate from political and cultural violence. The body is a way through which we communicate with culture, but is also an inherently private matter. The body collects information everywhere, whether it’s from a catastrophic crash, hidden signal or subtle warning. Made of skin and blood, our bodies are soft and easy to stretch or manipulate. The body is highly sensory and when invaded, the intrusion causes damage to the skin through the distribution of neurons connected to the skin, bones, joints and internal organs. This process affects our judgment, informing our response and through the body's response, people develop a specific feeling or emotion. It is a broad, fast, accurate, and profound experience.
The body is the starting point for my discourse, my language, and my art.
My art focuses on the topic of women’s identity and how it is historically and culturally constructed. Women have occupied a vast array of positions across cultures for centuries. We have been twisted, broken, gazed upon, judged, and forced to reside in an unfair, exploitative arena. The female body is the beginning of life, but instead of being respected it is objectified, stereotyped and depicted in a way divorced from reality.
“She” is not only a physical "thing", but also a living expression of language, culture, and experience. The body and language are integrated.
“Body” is an active moving force and an arsenal for claiming rights.
In the context of our consumer era, our aesthetics are forced to confront numerous material obstacles. The body is an important place to begin for understanding how to think about the social construction of gender and its connection to aesthetics, ethics, and culture.
I use mixed media to move beyond traditional boundaries. I try to eliminate anything that is unnecessary. I choose basic materials that are easily found in any household. I want my make the form free and as close as possible to my original intention. I enjoy utilizing fabric in that it can be stretched, sewn, and molded, almost functioning like a second skin.
The body is not the object of consumption by power and desire, but a vehicle to implement change. An inspired and enhanced consciousness establishes a new sense of self that will lead to a better place in the world for both women and men. The body itself has a huge source of energy and wisdom. We need to listen to our hearts through the expression of our bodies. Intuition, experience, empathy, compassion, and strength are the subjects of our consciousness and should define our language.
For me, the expression of the body is an empowering experience, and it is this I hope to share with those those experiencing Our “Body”: Ourselves.
Memory is complex. Time and reflection can both blur and clarify events.
But another kind of memory is the memory that can’t be erased. After all these years, the dust has not settled. Memory is hard, but I cannot turn away from it. It has continuously lingered with me influencing my perspective on the world as well as my art. I witnessed history, was apart of it, and it shaped me.
1989 was my final semester of college. Many important events transpired that year. My college was 30 minutes walking distance from Tiananmen Square. As student demonstrations began and grew, we walked to the Square often. Because of our many visits, I felt that Tiananmen Square was very close, not only in distance, but in spirit to the campus of the Central Academy of Fine Arts. I soon began to feel that as I was walking between the school and the Square, I was traveling between the ideal and reality.
In the summer of that year, I began to take pride in my identity. I wore my own clothes celebrating my own personal style. I made them myself. This was an expression of a kind of youthful pride, and although not perfect, it was unique.
As I watched and experienced those days in June of 1989, I knew there was no place for me in my own culture, in my own country. Of course, our graduates of Central Academy did not have a graduation exhibition after the June 4th incident, and most left school.
I have since moved to and lived in both Japan and the United States. My Chinese memories have become precious and have been preserved during my experiences in different cultures.
How does one define youth? Is it unlimited dreams, unforgettable stories, and a stubbornness that cannot be detered? I remember assembly and protest evolving into violent suppression, tragic endings and subsequent bans. The memory is fixed in a state of extreme sadness. It lingers like a book that can’t be opened. I remember, but it is a sealed memory, very sensitive yet very violent.
When people ignore violence, or choose to forget, or become indifferent, this contributes to the problem. It creates anxiety in every corner of the world. It migrates into our consciousness whether we are aware of it or not and effects our daily lives. Many try to forget, and over time don't care anymore. Violence is not a historical anomaly. On the contrary, violence can actually be said to be the normal state of history. We see our world becoming more violent. War is everywhere. People suffer in the name of greed and power. This cannot help but to contribute to our collective unconscious, our sense of memory. We leave this to you to consider.
The body is like a flowing landscape.
It is also like a reflective mirror revealing some memory in the migrating bundles of my work. These memories are reshaped in different crevices, enduring but sometimes hidden.
Everyone is looking for one’s own inner home. Even if it is vague, the initial psychological and physical response to the environment is always the most reliable. For example, in the face of toughness, you will try to protect yourself with softness and elasticity; in the face of softness, you will try to stretch as much as possible without margins and seek maximum freedom. And when you are in these moments, instinct is like a guardian that may retreat outside of consciousness. Only by taking a step back can you separate the spirituality of the body from its physicality. This is undoubtedly a product of culture.
This work is a continuation of my previous work and I hope to emphasize a sense of consciousness. This is not only about the entanglement of foreigners, strangers, visions, or concerns about gender, age, race and identity, but also the question of power structures and value systems. These consciousnesses accumulate and produce a strong anxiety, and anxiety causes the body to become a medium for revealing both the inner and external contradictions. This, in turn, produces a more effective expression and should be regarded as mirror images of the inner level as well as a way of expressing reality.
Using cloth that is usually worn close to the skin makes me feel a sense of body temperature during the production process. The white fabric always brings me to a poetic dreamlike state. It’s like entering a secret passage. This seems to be a necessary path, but the idea is always updated and activated and varied. The cut slit is like an open door or window, and the layers are stacked so that the viewpoint collides between the positive and negative spaces. In the changing field, the feeling of doing the work gradually disappears, accompanied by a sudden change in perception, and the handling of minute details often has a sense of transparency. For me, the seemingly empty openings are like fragile containers, containing an active motivating force.
In both tangible and invisible bondage, in the unpredictable thoughts, what is left to me is release, like finding a hidden exit.
Our perception of experience is direct, but at the same time,
culturally shaped. Our judgments about ourselves and other people's existence and social behavior, our understanding and questioning about age, gender, race, identity and human rights will overlap in some form in the body. The psychological interaction with the body often affects my examination of the internal and external, and thus provides me with a little more understanding of human nature. I am gradually getting used to the point of view of the body as a point of entry to express a specific point in time. Creation is more difficult than completing a project, because grasping each detail through the complex connection of the body and the brain to precipitate and filter one’s own consciousness is no easy matter. Transforming a very figurative thing into an abstract emotion is undoubtedly an expression of the unique character of the individual. In a way, my work is a vehicle for organizing myself.
For me, "transparent body" is not only a record of mobility, but also an active reconciliation. Art is built around "people." People themselves have multiple contradictory attributes, and in the dynamics of imbalance-balance-unbalance, the brain drives us to create something to go forward. In the process of creation, I often get unexpected feelings due to the existence of various contradictions. Just like the transparency and lightness of the characteristics, there will always be a lingering sadness behind the material. Reality is the most solid foundation in the process of capturing an elusive idea. Creation is actually a vision that is presented by circular and repetitive memories. The difference is that this process enhances the body's perception, but the inner connection is inseparable.
I like the blank state after the complicated, entangled engagement, just like order after chaos, and like a translucent representation, which is a kind of moment of agility and change. The boundary is chaotic and full of tension, but all uncertain
factors will provide a new impetus to thinking, to build and correct. And all this awakens my inner desire. Transparency can be both revealed and obscured, but it has an internal meaning. The choice of transparency is to express those parts that are both unforgettable and neglected. Even if they often rush into my sight in a flickering manner, there must be a specific reason for their existence. The clear and vague edges between the physical appearance and the internal are inherently appealing to me. Because it is pliable, it is full of unusual contradictions.
This installation is a reaction. A confession. A reckoning.
It stops to acknowledge the madness of the world.
It speaks directly yet circuitously. It bludgeons and it hints.
There is too much information… too much misinformation… too much violence (visible or invisible, tangible or intangible) … too much confusion… too much truth… too much falsity… too many people... too many networks… too many things happening at once.
It breeches the body’s limits, this carnival and spectacle.
It breaks the human soul, this nothingness delivered with incessant fury.
It is more than one can take, and so,
things
fall
apart.
Some pieces are burned and break up. This is just matter, nothing more than simple material molded into a shape, yet clearly there is pain here. One sees injury. Was it disease? Was it violence? What is it that breaks a woman’s body? Was she over-medicated or was she without access to treatment? Was it bearing children or bearing without them? Was it living invisibly under the heaviness of society’s expectations and power structures? Was it imprisonment or liberation? It is not just in China or America, it is everywhere. It is not just women, it is everyone. Bodies are pushed past their limits. The world’s problems are so evident, and so overwhelming. It is hard to make decisions. It is hard to make judgments. It is hard to know what is right. The outside stimulus is never-ending. Its violence is pardoned. There is no escape. It doesn’t matter if you like it or not. This is not natural for our minds or bodies. And so,
things
fall
apart.
Each piece in this installation is a façade. A mask. We pretend to be intelligent, when in fact we do not understand. We pretend to be sure when we feel unsure. Our bodies are broken, but we pretend we are strong and powerful. We pretend to look okay, when inside, we are not.
Behind each surface, there is a deeper meaning. Amorphous shapes push through fabric stretched onto canvases. The abstraction forces the mind to wander in to a feeling. Art only gives you a part of something; there is another part you cannot see. One knows they are looking at some part of a human body, but cannot ascertain which muscle. The motion is evident, but the power is boxed in. These shapes try to break through the façade. But the energy cannot come out.
I begin every piece in the same way. When faced with a blank piece of canvas, my approach is this: do not resist. Follow that irresistible desire. It is like dipping my hand into a stream and feeling the current. The meditation allows something unseen to find its way out. What emerges was within me, but it was hidden until now. It lived within the temperature of my body, but it has been converted, transmuted, transported. It has entered the world and I see it for the first time. The work is a part of me but becomes an object in itself. Every piece in this installation was a surprise. Every piece, regardless of size, emerged from a physical psychological and physical memory. So each piece is impossible to repeat. Art is the individual's exploration of the inner self and the outward world.
Every step in this installation was a spontaneous discovery. Eggs can be seen scattered, clustered, in paths. They once carried bodies and now lay broken. Their shards are a testimony to birth and possibility. Every moment is unknown. Some people react with fear. But some feel nervous excitement of a second chance. The unknown can be welcomed with delight. It can either be seen as an end or a beginning when...
things
fall
apart.
A new place always brings the possibility of illusions.
Creating an art piece means creating a new reality. The boundaries of my imagination get pushed by inconclusive elements. A flash of thought comes to me when past memories meet new encounters. For me, inspirations are born from the relationship among inner mind, physical body and environmental boundaries. What you can do is to reveal one of the features of the texture to its maximum, as the texture is unique and diverse by itself.
A sudden change or break down of the presence always comes with sharp damage. However, unlimited opportunities will rise between the end and the rebirth. Every piece of broken shards from the old presence shows both explosiveness and fragileness naturally. They speak with a special language consisting of fear and loneliness. This kind of visual reality is bittersweet. Dazzling. Finding a way out of the broken shards is thrilling. Within this piece or artwork, I tried to freeze the very moment of breaking a presence, to expose the fragileness behind the routine. Though presented in still visual art, it represents the flow of time and life.
To me, working is mostly a process of releasing inner energy. Full of expectations, surprises and challenges, it allows me to search for the right touch in the simplest way with easy access.
Creating art is a way of examining my inner self, my true self.
Creating art is my way of interpreting various emotions and spiritual thoughts; to remove the mask in order to show the true face of human nature. At times, I will create art as a process of rethinking myself. In my life, I have experienced many impulses, both physical and mental, that have taken me from one place to another. I have adapted to new environments and cultures. Living at the intersection of Eastern and Western cultures has influenced my vision of life. My mind is usually hovering between what is real and what is imagined. Therefore my work is very personal and reflects my inner conflicts and struggles. Many events in our lives happen naturally and frequently. Over time, we may become apathetic and neglectful of everyday occurrences, and even ourselves. This illustrates how people think and navigate through life, but recognizing the significance of small items can influence how we see everything around us. Seemingly insignificant details reveal the sensitivities and weaknesses of human nature.
We are consistently being challenged by feelings of confusion and lucidity, loss and hope. In addition, the place between an actual experience and a dream could also make one feel lost as we often struggle and seek out a space in which to escape.
My work is emotional and embodies a relationship that falls between reality and dream, rather than a description of a specific story. My work utilizes images to provide hints and/or clues leaving the viewer to his or her own conclusions. Each individual viewer will have a unique way of seeing my work, according to the life experiences and psychological state that the viewer has at that time. I am attracted to a type of beauty that is flexible and uncertain, like a mood that is troubled and emotional, casual and sensitive. Imperfection indeed creates a new harmony. I have tried to metaphorically open a new space in my work to remind the viewers to interact with the piece. This allows them to dig out all the possibilities of the inner powers of the piece. Whether the reaction is positive or negative, it is an emotional response. This process of viewer creation promotes a way of seeking better solutions as well as other new energies.
When I create a piece, I feel like telling my viewers about my own stories. The interpretation and vision will be left up to my viewers to imagine and decide for themselves. I like to use direct and pure language to explain themes. I use simple and basic elements to do the job giving up unnecessary details in order to maintain the fundamental element of the inner meaning of the artwork. The clarity of the work creates an intellectual and emotional relationship with the viewers, rather than giving fixed anticipations and expectations. The exhibition space, in relation to the work, is meant to be a guiding or interpretive tool. The meaning of my work demonstrates a state of mind in everyday life: a friendly, familiar feeling. Therefore, I choose raw and ordinary materials to create familiarity, closeness, and to stir emotion. I hope to create an image containing a natural quality of tenderness and flexibility evoking the viewer's memories directly and peacefully. The purpose of using a white background is to give the effects of flatness, delicacy, ethereal and quiet. Differential light emphasizes the expansion of space, not only demonstrating clarity, but setting an assertive control of existence of "spirit." The molding and sense of light combine illusion and gender, suggesting that the activity of temperament is prone to meditation and spiritual freedom, at times drifting, at time rebellious.
The expansion of space creates a field with pressure, so the work is not fixed due to the various elements used, which also demonstrate the faces of vitality. During production, I work extemporaneously disregarding rules and boundaries. The freedom and diversity of artistic language enables me to find and channel my intimate needs of expression.
Creating art is a process of self-examination, and this process enables me to collect my thoughts.
We live in complex time that is in many ways defined by excessive want, greed, and waste. We all pursue a good life, but in this pursuit, do we really have choices? Without recognizing or aspiring to a specific destination, my art is a record of everyday life. This gives me an opportunity to look at myself more closely.
We all react to materials, whether we find them attractive or frightening. The desire for stuff makes one greedy and afraid at same time. We privilege finished commodities, but not how they are packaged. We shop at Safeway, but care little for the plastic shopping bags (unless we save them to collect more garbage). We ignore the cardboard used for packaging many of the goods we consume. We are overflowing with stuff, but this stuff must be made available to us and it has to be packaged. This packaging embodies a history and its own special language. Releasing plastic bags and cardboard from useless connections to human character enables one to redefine them. Perhaps they point to new concepts. Maybe their individual qualities have been neglected with the development of the consumer society. These objects contain many meanings that overlap. They represent our lifestyles. Damage, chaos, survival, and fragility define their relationship with humans. Faith and doubt are expressed in the objects illustrating the relationships between complexity and balance, order and disorder, attraction and repulsion.
I try to move freely in my works. Vast space blurs the boundary of areas and life events melt into a repeated circle. This is both my life and my work.
Our keen awareness of life often transcends us to a realm of much deeper intuition ripened for our spiritual awakening.
This spiritual awakening discerns the taste of an artwork. The realm of '0' has always inspired me to search for the rhythm of life's essence or its energy when released.
My works care more about life than a mere creativity expression of making arts. I've committed to connecting my life experience with life's changes evolving around the shape of '0'.
Often the ordinary objects in my life as tiny as a drop of water, a piece of withered wood branch or a handful of sand from nature can arouse my most delicate feelings for them. They frequently become my sources of inspiration to transform these '0s' into my artworks.
Because these materials come from nature and their simple elements among the creation, these subjects are my searches for the infinity without boundary. True beauty can only be discovered by ones who see the macro/ micro, subjective/ objective, art/ science, yin/ yang, east/ west,… and to have completed the incomplete. These contrasting properties strengthen my inner freedom to envision many imaginary spaces, their flexible elasticity, their infinite extension and permanency as implied by '0'.
'0' is my pursuit, a response to life's spirit essence or my Asian's taste of revelation in life. '0' has cleansed, filtered, distilled, accumulated and recorded every bit of my life experience to create an '0-energy' realm on canvas. The energy stored within '0' sphere is a condensed substance field to transform the complex to the common simple, the human physical to the divine and mystical. These imply a perpetuating force to continue along the ever changing universe.
Multiplying '0s' connected the fragmented visual points in the environment by giving birth to the organisms within the revolving circles of earth. Every object in life rotates around a full cycle of birth, beginning, crack, mutation, merge, death, end, rebirth as depicted in my '0' series. The revitalizing energy helped me tremendously to inject life into my arduous art making process. From these '0s', I have found my loss to replenish my future consistently. These joining power has energized my consciousness to express their fluidness and richness among the passage of time.
The spiraling '0s' reinforced my realization of the interrelated succession of the ecosystem. These '0s' refreshed myself with a 'beginner's heart' in the daily endeavors of mine. They always offered me a space or realm with progress to do a house cleaning of my mind to free my self-centered soul to reconnect with and resume an original spirit. When I little think of achievement or think of self, I've become a true beginner to really learn something. A beginner's heart often owns a gentle spirit of compassion. When my heart is compassionate, I then notice that I can start to re-examine the trueness of life and learn from life.
As an artist, I pray sincerely that my artworks may interact with viewers to initiate more caring heart for making the world a better place together where we all live with greater compassion.
For me, '0' is Zen, an awakening, a realization, a compassion surpassing the form or format. They recorded many traces I've treaded upon in life to seek the spirit within the living organisms via the language of their own to represent their portraits of nature.
'0' is Tao, it is in my passage rather than my path. As I looked into the spirit of cosmic change- I tried to register the eternal growth which returns to itself to produce new forms in harmony, in pureness and in oneness.
