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Wash Out
Material: Charcoals on paper
Dimensions: 24x18 inches
Year: 2024
"Wash Out" is a charcoal drawing that embodies my exploration of the intersection between consumer culture, the industrialization of food, and the erasure of individuality. By combining two seemingly unrelated elements—meat and a giant construction roller—I aim to expose the hidden connections that bind together mass production, commodification, and the way we process not only products but people as well. This piece is a visual reflection of the invisible forces shaping our society, especially in the context of how industries, like the meat industry, often disregard the uniqueness of life in favor of efficiency and uniformity.
The roller, typically associated with flattening surfaces in construction or painting, takes on a new role here. In this drawing, it is made to appear as though it is rolling out the surface, creating a motion that feels both erasing and renewing—like it is washing away something beneath it. The roller is more than just a mechanical tool; it represents the overwhelming power of industrialization and the homogenizing effects it has on everything it touches. By placing meat at the core of this process, I intend to metaphorically illustrate how industries like the meat industry reduce living beings—humans and animals alike—into mere commodities. The roller’s motion conveys a sense of wiping away individuality, erasing the life behind the product, and rendering it faceless, indistinct, and processed.
The choice of meat as the focal point stems from my desire to comment on the deeper issues of the meat industry: its ethical dilemmas, its environmental impact, and how it dehumanizes both the workers within the industry and the creatures it exploits. The juxtaposition of something so visceral—meat—with a tool like a construction roller, which normally represents creation or order, is meant to question the way we view both the food we consume and the systems that produce it. As the roller “rolls out” the surface of the world, it seems to wash away not just the dirt but any trace of humanity or consciousness, leaving a void where once there was life.
Behind this central image, I’ve placed a zebra crossing, which serves as a subtle yet powerful symbol of the fast-paced, indifferent movement of society. The tiny, blurred figures of people walking quickly across the crossing are faceless, rushed, and almost indistinct. Their hurried pace mirrors the way modern society moves: constantly rushing forward, never pausing to look back, let alone reflect on the unseen forces at work around us. The fading edges of these figures, as they blur into the background, represent the ephemeral nature of modern life—the fleeting, unnoticed moments and the disconnect we feel from the larger systems that govern us. They become part of the landscape, indistinguishable from the noise of everyday life.
Through the blurring of these figures and the fading of their outlines, I wanted to communicate how we, as individuals, can often feel swallowed up by the larger forces in play. We become part of the machinery, passing through the world unnoticed, consumed by the systems we’ve created. It’s a reminder that we are often unaware of the implications of our actions or the consequences of the industries and systems that shape our lives.
"Wash Out" invites viewers to confront the industrialization of food and the dehumanizing effects of mass production. It challenges us to think about how we, as consumers, are complicit in systems that strip away the individuality of both people and animals, reducing everything to a series of uniform, interchangeable parts. At the same time, it urges reflection on the speed at which we live our lives, rushing forward without questioning the impact of our actions or even acknowledging the human costs embedded in the process.
Through this piece, I hope to create a space for introspection, where we can all pause for a moment and ask ourselves: What are we washing away in the name of progress? And what is truly lost when we allow the machinery of the world to erase the personal and the meaningful in favor of convenience and efficiency?
Dimensions: 24x18 inches
Year: 2024
"Wash Out" is a charcoal drawing that embodies my exploration of the intersection between consumer culture, the industrialization of food, and the erasure of individuality. By combining two seemingly unrelated elements—meat and a giant construction roller—I aim to expose the hidden connections that bind together mass production, commodification, and the way we process not only products but people as well. This piece is a visual reflection of the invisible forces shaping our society, especially in the context of how industries, like the meat industry, often disregard the uniqueness of life in favor of efficiency and uniformity.
The roller, typically associated with flattening surfaces in construction or painting, takes on a new role here. In this drawing, it is made to appear as though it is rolling out the surface, creating a motion that feels both erasing and renewing—like it is washing away something beneath it. The roller is more than just a mechanical tool; it represents the overwhelming power of industrialization and the homogenizing effects it has on everything it touches. By placing meat at the core of this process, I intend to metaphorically illustrate how industries like the meat industry reduce living beings—humans and animals alike—into mere commodities. The roller’s motion conveys a sense of wiping away individuality, erasing the life behind the product, and rendering it faceless, indistinct, and processed.
The choice of meat as the focal point stems from my desire to comment on the deeper issues of the meat industry: its ethical dilemmas, its environmental impact, and how it dehumanizes both the workers within the industry and the creatures it exploits. The juxtaposition of something so visceral—meat—with a tool like a construction roller, which normally represents creation or order, is meant to question the way we view both the food we consume and the systems that produce it. As the roller “rolls out” the surface of the world, it seems to wash away not just the dirt but any trace of humanity or consciousness, leaving a void where once there was life.
Behind this central image, I’ve placed a zebra crossing, which serves as a subtle yet powerful symbol of the fast-paced, indifferent movement of society. The tiny, blurred figures of people walking quickly across the crossing are faceless, rushed, and almost indistinct. Their hurried pace mirrors the way modern society moves: constantly rushing forward, never pausing to look back, let alone reflect on the unseen forces at work around us. The fading edges of these figures, as they blur into the background, represent the ephemeral nature of modern life—the fleeting, unnoticed moments and the disconnect we feel from the larger systems that govern us. They become part of the landscape, indistinguishable from the noise of everyday life.
Through the blurring of these figures and the fading of their outlines, I wanted to communicate how we, as individuals, can often feel swallowed up by the larger forces in play. We become part of the machinery, passing through the world unnoticed, consumed by the systems we’ve created. It’s a reminder that we are often unaware of the implications of our actions or the consequences of the industries and systems that shape our lives.
"Wash Out" invites viewers to confront the industrialization of food and the dehumanizing effects of mass production. It challenges us to think about how we, as consumers, are complicit in systems that strip away the individuality of both people and animals, reducing everything to a series of uniform, interchangeable parts. At the same time, it urges reflection on the speed at which we live our lives, rushing forward without questioning the impact of our actions or even acknowledging the human costs embedded in the process.
Through this piece, I hope to create a space for introspection, where we can all pause for a moment and ask ourselves: What are we washing away in the name of progress? And what is truly lost when we allow the machinery of the world to erase the personal and the meaningful in favor of convenience and efficiency?
City of Vanishing Colors
Material: Micron pens on paper
Dimensions: 28 1/2 x8 1/2 inches
Year: 2024
"City of Vanishing Colors" is not just an artwork—it's a heartfelt cry for a city on the verge of losing its soul. Through a series of intricate drawings, I’ve captured the scenic beauty of Hong Kong—its vibrant streets, iconic landmarks, and the people who call it home. Each page of this booklet-like piece unfolds like a memory, a moment frozen in time. The black-and-white sketches, created with micron pens, reflect the city’s familiar face, but as the pages turn, there is an undeniable sense of something slipping away, fading into the past.
The images are mainly devoid of color, symbolizing the gradual erosion of cultural identity in the face of overwhelming modernization. But with each page, a small portion of color is brought to life, highlighting a specific place or object—a neon sign, a traditional market stall, a fleeting scene. These are not just places; they are symbols of what is being lost—what’s slowly being swallowed by the relentless tide of change. The color, though small, serves as a poignant reminder of what Hong Kong used to be, what it still is to those who remember, and the irreplaceable beauty that we risk losing forever.
The black-and-white background, cold and distant, emphasizes the fragility of these vibrant memories. The places I’ve drawn are not only fading from the physical world but also from our collective memory. The color is the last breath of life for these landmarks, a final, desperate attempt to hold on to something meaningful before it fades into obscurity.
In the midst of this evolving landscape, I’ve placed myself within the drawings—not just as an artist’s signature, but as a witness to the changes. By inserting myself into the scenes, I am symbolically acknowledging that I, too, am part of this transformation. As Hong Kong changes, so do I. The city’s heartbeat is intertwined with my own, and as its culture and identity shift, so too does mine. I’m not simply observing; I’m living through this transformation, feeling the weight of what’s being lost.
"City of Vanishing Colors" is a deeply emotional reflection on the fragility of culture. It’s a reminder that, in our quest for progress, we often leave behind the very essence of what makes us who we are. The work is both a love letter to Hong Kong and a mournful elegy for what is disappearing. With each stroke, I ask: How do we preserve the soul of a place when everything around it is changing? How do we keep the memories of what we hold dear when the world refuses to stand still?
Dimensions: 28 1/2 x8 1/2 inches
Year: 2024
"City of Vanishing Colors" is not just an artwork—it's a heartfelt cry for a city on the verge of losing its soul. Through a series of intricate drawings, I’ve captured the scenic beauty of Hong Kong—its vibrant streets, iconic landmarks, and the people who call it home. Each page of this booklet-like piece unfolds like a memory, a moment frozen in time. The black-and-white sketches, created with micron pens, reflect the city’s familiar face, but as the pages turn, there is an undeniable sense of something slipping away, fading into the past.
The images are mainly devoid of color, symbolizing the gradual erosion of cultural identity in the face of overwhelming modernization. But with each page, a small portion of color is brought to life, highlighting a specific place or object—a neon sign, a traditional market stall, a fleeting scene. These are not just places; they are symbols of what is being lost—what’s slowly being swallowed by the relentless tide of change. The color, though small, serves as a poignant reminder of what Hong Kong used to be, what it still is to those who remember, and the irreplaceable beauty that we risk losing forever.
The black-and-white background, cold and distant, emphasizes the fragility of these vibrant memories. The places I’ve drawn are not only fading from the physical world but also from our collective memory. The color is the last breath of life for these landmarks, a final, desperate attempt to hold on to something meaningful before it fades into obscurity.
In the midst of this evolving landscape, I’ve placed myself within the drawings—not just as an artist’s signature, but as a witness to the changes. By inserting myself into the scenes, I am symbolically acknowledging that I, too, am part of this transformation. As Hong Kong changes, so do I. The city’s heartbeat is intertwined with my own, and as its culture and identity shift, so too does mine. I’m not simply observing; I’m living through this transformation, feeling the weight of what’s being lost.
"City of Vanishing Colors" is a deeply emotional reflection on the fragility of culture. It’s a reminder that, in our quest for progress, we often leave behind the very essence of what makes us who we are. The work is both a love letter to Hong Kong and a mournful elegy for what is disappearing. With each stroke, I ask: How do we preserve the soul of a place when everything around it is changing? How do we keep the memories of what we hold dear when the world refuses to stand still?
Fading Echoes of Me
Material: Gouache, tracing paper, red threads
Dimensions: 29 1/2 x12 inches
Year: 2024
"Fading Echoes of Me" is a mixed media work that explores the transient nature of identity, memory, and self-perception. Through the use of gouache, tracing paper, and red threads, this piece portrays a fading self-image, where elements of my identity slowly dissolve while the underlying structure remains—an attempt to capture the fragility of existence and the way our sense of self evolves and transforms over time.
The work features a pixelated self-portrait, drawn in grayscale, which serves as a metaphor for the gradual erosion of memories and aspects of self. The pixelation effect gives the impression of fading—like a photograph exposed to time and light. Each grid represents a piece of me, showing how even the most foundational parts of identity can begin to blur and fade, yet the structure of my features still remains discernible. It is a reflection on how time impacts who we are, erasing details while leaving an outline, a presence, that continues to endure.
Intertwined with the self-portrait are red threads that link the pixelated image to the bottom portion of the piece, which takes the form of a blood bag. The red threads symbolize the lifeline and connection to the past, evoking the idea that even as we fade, something essential remains. The blood bag, a universal symbol of life and sustenance, emphasizes that our memories, emotions, and experiences are a vital force that persist, even as the surface level of our identity recedes.
In addition to these elements, I have included a rolling paper—a symbol of transition and transformation, reflecting how things change, roll, and move over time. The rolling paper is more than just a physical object; it represents a ritual of letting go and moving forward, but also of repeating cycles that come with the passage of time. Its presence in the piece serves as a reminder that life is made up of continuous cycles—some fading, some growing, but always in motion.
"Fading Echoes of Me" speaks to the fragility of identity and the impermanence of both self and memory. Through the contrasting elements of the pixelated self-image, the red threads, and the symbolic objects of my past, the piece invites reflection on how we are shaped by what we lose and what we retain. In this work, I explore the delicate balance between forgetting and remembering, and how, even as parts of us fade, we remain inherently connected to the people and experiences that have defined us.
Dimensions: 29 1/2 x12 inches
Year: 2024
"Fading Echoes of Me" is a mixed media work that explores the transient nature of identity, memory, and self-perception. Through the use of gouache, tracing paper, and red threads, this piece portrays a fading self-image, where elements of my identity slowly dissolve while the underlying structure remains—an attempt to capture the fragility of existence and the way our sense of self evolves and transforms over time.
The work features a pixelated self-portrait, drawn in grayscale, which serves as a metaphor for the gradual erosion of memories and aspects of self. The pixelation effect gives the impression of fading—like a photograph exposed to time and light. Each grid represents a piece of me, showing how even the most foundational parts of identity can begin to blur and fade, yet the structure of my features still remains discernible. It is a reflection on how time impacts who we are, erasing details while leaving an outline, a presence, that continues to endure.
Intertwined with the self-portrait are red threads that link the pixelated image to the bottom portion of the piece, which takes the form of a blood bag. The red threads symbolize the lifeline and connection to the past, evoking the idea that even as we fade, something essential remains. The blood bag, a universal symbol of life and sustenance, emphasizes that our memories, emotions, and experiences are a vital force that persist, even as the surface level of our identity recedes.
In addition to these elements, I have included a rolling paper—a symbol of transition and transformation, reflecting how things change, roll, and move over time. The rolling paper is more than just a physical object; it represents a ritual of letting go and moving forward, but also of repeating cycles that come with the passage of time. Its presence in the piece serves as a reminder that life is made up of continuous cycles—some fading, some growing, but always in motion.
"Fading Echoes of Me" speaks to the fragility of identity and the impermanence of both self and memory. Through the contrasting elements of the pixelated self-image, the red threads, and the symbolic objects of my past, the piece invites reflection on how we are shaped by what we lose and what we retain. In this work, I explore the delicate balance between forgetting and remembering, and how, even as parts of us fade, we remain inherently connected to the people and experiences that have defined us.
In Between the Exposures: The Color of Forgotten Days
Material: Micron pens on tracing paper
Dimensions: 21x4 inches
Year: 2024
"In Between the Exposures: The Color of Forgotten Days" is a deeply personal work that reflects on the fleeting nature of memory and the passage of time. Created using micron pens on tracing paper, this piece unfolds like a rolling film, each frame revealing fragments of my childhood in Hong Kong—a city that has shaped both my memories and my identity.
The rolling film format serves as a metaphor for the way time constantly moves forward, carrying with it the people, places, and moments that once felt vivid and present. As the film unrolls, I invite the viewer into the fragmented memories of my youth, offering glimpses of everyday life and experiences that now seem distant, as though caught between reality and the haze of nostalgia. The use of tracing paper emphasizes the fragility of these moments, while the micron pen details suggest that although time erodes clarity, it cannot fully erase what remains.
The piece is predominantly rendered in black-and-white, which evokes a sense of timelessness and universality. However, I have chosen to add small, vibrant bursts of color to certain moments in the film, a technique that reflects the emotional weight of particular memories. These colors represent the parts of my childhood that remain with me most vividly—the moments that, despite the passing of time, continue to resonate deeply within me. The color offers a contrast to the black-and-white scenes, highlighting how even the most ordinary moments can hold immense personal significance.
The film unspools in a continuous sequence, mimicking the flow of time itself. Each frame, like a still from a forgotten film, tells its own story, but it is only when viewed as a whole that the true narrative comes to light. This structure reflects how memories are often fragmented, only coming together in retrospect to form a coherent image of our past.
Through this piece, I reflect on the impermanence of both memory and place. Hong Kong, the city of my childhood, is a constantly evolving landscape, and as I look back, I realize how much has already disappeared. The drawings serve as a visual record, preserving moments that, while once familiar, are now slipping away into the past. By capturing these memories in this form, I seek to honor the experiences and emotions tied to them, giving them a presence that continues to live on despite the inevitable passage of time.
"In Between the Exposures" is an exploration of the intersection between memory, identity, and time—a reminder of how we carry our past with us, even as we move forward. It’s an acknowledgment of the beautiful impermanence of life, and a call to cherish the moments, both big and small, that define who we are. Through this piece, I hope to offer a space for reflection—both for myself and for others—on the memories we hold dear, and how they shape our understanding of the world around us.
Dimensions: 21x4 inches
Year: 2024
"In Between the Exposures: The Color of Forgotten Days" is a deeply personal work that reflects on the fleeting nature of memory and the passage of time. Created using micron pens on tracing paper, this piece unfolds like a rolling film, each frame revealing fragments of my childhood in Hong Kong—a city that has shaped both my memories and my identity.
The rolling film format serves as a metaphor for the way time constantly moves forward, carrying with it the people, places, and moments that once felt vivid and present. As the film unrolls, I invite the viewer into the fragmented memories of my youth, offering glimpses of everyday life and experiences that now seem distant, as though caught between reality and the haze of nostalgia. The use of tracing paper emphasizes the fragility of these moments, while the micron pen details suggest that although time erodes clarity, it cannot fully erase what remains.
The piece is predominantly rendered in black-and-white, which evokes a sense of timelessness and universality. However, I have chosen to add small, vibrant bursts of color to certain moments in the film, a technique that reflects the emotional weight of particular memories. These colors represent the parts of my childhood that remain with me most vividly—the moments that, despite the passing of time, continue to resonate deeply within me. The color offers a contrast to the black-and-white scenes, highlighting how even the most ordinary moments can hold immense personal significance.
The film unspools in a continuous sequence, mimicking the flow of time itself. Each frame, like a still from a forgotten film, tells its own story, but it is only when viewed as a whole that the true narrative comes to light. This structure reflects how memories are often fragmented, only coming together in retrospect to form a coherent image of our past.
Through this piece, I reflect on the impermanence of both memory and place. Hong Kong, the city of my childhood, is a constantly evolving landscape, and as I look back, I realize how much has already disappeared. The drawings serve as a visual record, preserving moments that, while once familiar, are now slipping away into the past. By capturing these memories in this form, I seek to honor the experiences and emotions tied to them, giving them a presence that continues to live on despite the inevitable passage of time.
"In Between the Exposures" is an exploration of the intersection between memory, identity, and time—a reminder of how we carry our past with us, even as we move forward. It’s an acknowledgment of the beautiful impermanence of life, and a call to cherish the moments, both big and small, that define who we are. Through this piece, I hope to offer a space for reflection—both for myself and for others—on the memories we hold dear, and how they shape our understanding of the world around us.
Sketching of the street
Material: Watercolor and Micron pens on paper
Dimensions: 11x20 inches
Year:2019
As someone born and raised in Hong Kong, this urban sketch holds a special place in my heart, capturing the essence of a city that has shaped my identity. The drawing highlights the timeless architecture of Hong Kong’s older buildings, featuring the signature white, green, and red tones that define much of the city’s heritage. The large, grid-like windows, with their rhythmic patterns, are a hallmark of these structures, offering a visual harmony that feels both familiar and unique. Yet, it is the metal roller shutters that truly embody the spirit of Hong Kong’s vibrant urban culture.
Introduced in the mid-1970s, roller shutters became a practical solution for storefront security, offering affordability and enhanced protection compared to traditional shutters. Over time, however, these simple metal barriers evolved into more than just functional items. They became integral to the visual landscape of Hong Kong, transforming into canvases of personal expression and cultural significance.
Shop owners began to personalize their roller shutters, painting them in bright colors or adding traditional Chinese couplets, which carry blessings and good fortune. Some hired local artists to create images that reflected their business identity—ranging from the simple depiction of a bowl of noodles to more intricate designs that conveyed the spirit of the neighborhood. These artistic touches transformed the shutters from mere security barriers into unique pieces of urban art, contributing to the dynamic aesthetic of the streets.
In addition to artistic embellishments, roller shutters also became prime advertising space. Flyers, promotional messages, and contact details were often spray-painted or pasted onto these surfaces, further enhancing the streets’ visual energy. The roller shutters, acting as a fusion of practicality and creativity, became an essential part of Hong Kong's street culture, where every layer of paint and design told a story.
However, over the years, Hong Kong’s streets have changed. The vibrant, colorful roller shutters and decorative elements that once filled the city’s storefronts have gradually diminished. The streets now appear less colorful and lively compared to the past, with these unique features becoming increasingly rare. Despite this, I’m grateful that we can still witness them in person, as they stand as lasting reminders of the city’s past vibrancy and character.
Through this sketch, I wanted to capture the quiet yet powerful role of roller shutters in Hong Kong’s visual identity. These once simple, utilitarian elements have evolved into symbols of resilience, creativity, and cultural pride. As a Hong Kong native, I’ve seen how these shutters, though fading, remain an integral part of the city’s atmosphere. They’re not just protective covers anymore—they are personal expressions, advertising tools, and visual narratives that reflect the rich cultural story of this ever-evolving city. Even as they become rarer, these shutters continue to remind us of the city’s vibrant past, and I feel fortunate to have witnessed them firsthand.
Dimensions: 11x20 inches
Year:2019
As someone born and raised in Hong Kong, this urban sketch holds a special place in my heart, capturing the essence of a city that has shaped my identity. The drawing highlights the timeless architecture of Hong Kong’s older buildings, featuring the signature white, green, and red tones that define much of the city’s heritage. The large, grid-like windows, with their rhythmic patterns, are a hallmark of these structures, offering a visual harmony that feels both familiar and unique. Yet, it is the metal roller shutters that truly embody the spirit of Hong Kong’s vibrant urban culture.
Introduced in the mid-1970s, roller shutters became a practical solution for storefront security, offering affordability and enhanced protection compared to traditional shutters. Over time, however, these simple metal barriers evolved into more than just functional items. They became integral to the visual landscape of Hong Kong, transforming into canvases of personal expression and cultural significance.
Shop owners began to personalize their roller shutters, painting them in bright colors or adding traditional Chinese couplets, which carry blessings and good fortune. Some hired local artists to create images that reflected their business identity—ranging from the simple depiction of a bowl of noodles to more intricate designs that conveyed the spirit of the neighborhood. These artistic touches transformed the shutters from mere security barriers into unique pieces of urban art, contributing to the dynamic aesthetic of the streets.
In addition to artistic embellishments, roller shutters also became prime advertising space. Flyers, promotional messages, and contact details were often spray-painted or pasted onto these surfaces, further enhancing the streets’ visual energy. The roller shutters, acting as a fusion of practicality and creativity, became an essential part of Hong Kong's street culture, where every layer of paint and design told a story.
However, over the years, Hong Kong’s streets have changed. The vibrant, colorful roller shutters and decorative elements that once filled the city’s storefronts have gradually diminished. The streets now appear less colorful and lively compared to the past, with these unique features becoming increasingly rare. Despite this, I’m grateful that we can still witness them in person, as they stand as lasting reminders of the city’s past vibrancy and character.
Through this sketch, I wanted to capture the quiet yet powerful role of roller shutters in Hong Kong’s visual identity. These once simple, utilitarian elements have evolved into symbols of resilience, creativity, and cultural pride. As a Hong Kong native, I’ve seen how these shutters, though fading, remain an integral part of the city’s atmosphere. They’re not just protective covers anymore—they are personal expressions, advertising tools, and visual narratives that reflect the rich cultural story of this ever-evolving city. Even as they become rarer, these shutters continue to remind us of the city’s vibrant past, and I feel fortunate to have witnessed them firsthand.
Series: Triptych HK
Material: Micron pens on tracing paper
Dimensions: 21x4 inches
Year: 2024
Series: Triptych HK
"Triptych HK" is a series of works that explores the multifaceted identity of Hong Kong through symbolic and visual representations. Each piece within the triptych delves into different aspects of life in this dynamic city, using collage, texture, and layers to create a dialogue between past, present, and the ever-evolving cultural landscape. The series reflects the tension between tradition and modernity, individual experience and collective memory.
Dimensions: 21x4 inches
Year: 2024
Series: Triptych HK
"Triptych HK" is a series of works that explores the multifaceted identity of Hong Kong through symbolic and visual representations. Each piece within the triptych delves into different aspects of life in this dynamic city, using collage, texture, and layers to create a dialogue between past, present, and the ever-evolving cultural landscape. The series reflects the tension between tradition and modernity, individual experience and collective memory.
Words We Say, Loneliness We Hide
Material: collages
Dimensions: 21x4 inches
Year: 2024
"Words We Say, Loneliness We Hide" is a deeply personal and reflective collage that critiques the rituals surrounding celebrations, specifically the ubiquitous phrase "Happy Birthday." Through this work, I explore the complex emotional landscape beneath what seems like a simple, warm gesture. On the surface, saying "Happy Birthday" is a socially accepted form of kindness, an expression of care and joy. However, in my experience, I've noticed how often such expressions can feel mechanical—uttered out of obligation rather than genuine warmth.
This piece delves into the emotional dissonance that can arise during these moments, especially in a society that places high expectations on public displays of affection and celebration. The act of wishing someone a happy birthday is meant to be a shared moment of connection, but I question whether it always achieves this. Is it truly an expression of affection, or just another mission to fulfill, another box to check?
By layering images and textures in this collage, I aim to reflect the fragmentation of human connection, portraying how we often hide our true emotions behind these rituals. The colors and materials I’ve chosen evoke a sense of warmth, yet there’s an underlying melancholy—an acknowledgment of the loneliness that sometimes accompanies these seemingly joyful moments. In this piece, I question the authenticity of our interactions and the complex ways in which we engage with each other emotionally.
"Words We Say, Loneliness We Hide" is a meditation on the fine line between societal expectation and genuine connection, asking whether the words we speak can ever truly convey the depth of our feelings, or if they only serve to mask the quiet solitude that many of us experience in a world full of celebrations.
Dimensions: 21x4 inches
Year: 2024
"Words We Say, Loneliness We Hide" is a deeply personal and reflective collage that critiques the rituals surrounding celebrations, specifically the ubiquitous phrase "Happy Birthday." Through this work, I explore the complex emotional landscape beneath what seems like a simple, warm gesture. On the surface, saying "Happy Birthday" is a socially accepted form of kindness, an expression of care and joy. However, in my experience, I've noticed how often such expressions can feel mechanical—uttered out of obligation rather than genuine warmth.
This piece delves into the emotional dissonance that can arise during these moments, especially in a society that places high expectations on public displays of affection and celebration. The act of wishing someone a happy birthday is meant to be a shared moment of connection, but I question whether it always achieves this. Is it truly an expression of affection, or just another mission to fulfill, another box to check?
By layering images and textures in this collage, I aim to reflect the fragmentation of human connection, portraying how we often hide our true emotions behind these rituals. The colors and materials I’ve chosen evoke a sense of warmth, yet there’s an underlying melancholy—an acknowledgment of the loneliness that sometimes accompanies these seemingly joyful moments. In this piece, I question the authenticity of our interactions and the complex ways in which we engage with each other emotionally.
"Words We Say, Loneliness We Hide" is a meditation on the fine line between societal expectation and genuine connection, asking whether the words we speak can ever truly convey the depth of our feelings, or if they only serve to mask the quiet solitude that many of us experience in a world full of celebrations.
Whispers of the Grey Bear
Material: Charcoals on tracing paper
Dimensions: 12x24 inches
Year: 2024
"Whispers of the Grey Bear" is a charcoal painting that serves as both a reflection and an extension of my earlier work, Words We Say, Loneliness We Hide. This piece takes the fragmented emotional landscape of that collage and brings it to life in a more intimate, tactile form. Through layers of charcoal, I capture the haunting, mysterious essence of the grey bear—a symbol of both solitude and strength—emerging from a shadowy backdrop, much like a forgotten memory or a fleeting thought. The grey tones in this piece echo the muted warmth of the previous collage, yet they deepen the contemplative mood, inviting the viewer into a space where light and darkness coexist in quiet tension.
The bear, as a figure, represents the quiet whispers of vulnerability and isolation that often go unnoticed in our interactions. In Words We Say, Loneliness We Hide, I questioned the authenticity of our social rituals. In Whispers of the Grey Bear, I focus on the internal experience—the feeling of being lost in the shadows of our own lives, even amidst seemingly familiar gestures. The bear’s presence in this charcoal piece feels both gentle and powerful, a metaphor for how we can feel both invisible and exposed in our emotional landscapes.
The tension between fragmentation and unity is explored here as well—just as in the collage, where individual elements come together to form a cohesive narrative, the grey bear emerges from a blend of light and dark, offering a glimpse into a world where connection and isolation exist simultaneously. This drawing is not just a visual representation but an emotional one, allowing the viewer to feel the weight of those quiet, unspoken truths that shape our existence. Together, Words We Say, Loneliness We Hide and Whispers of the Grey Bear speak to the delicate balance between the masks we wear and the vulnerability we often hide, offering a space for reflection on the complex nature of human connection and solitude.
Dimensions: 12x24 inches
Year: 2024
"Whispers of the Grey Bear" is a charcoal painting that serves as both a reflection and an extension of my earlier work, Words We Say, Loneliness We Hide. This piece takes the fragmented emotional landscape of that collage and brings it to life in a more intimate, tactile form. Through layers of charcoal, I capture the haunting, mysterious essence of the grey bear—a symbol of both solitude and strength—emerging from a shadowy backdrop, much like a forgotten memory or a fleeting thought. The grey tones in this piece echo the muted warmth of the previous collage, yet they deepen the contemplative mood, inviting the viewer into a space where light and darkness coexist in quiet tension.
The bear, as a figure, represents the quiet whispers of vulnerability and isolation that often go unnoticed in our interactions. In Words We Say, Loneliness We Hide, I questioned the authenticity of our social rituals. In Whispers of the Grey Bear, I focus on the internal experience—the feeling of being lost in the shadows of our own lives, even amidst seemingly familiar gestures. The bear’s presence in this charcoal piece feels both gentle and powerful, a metaphor for how we can feel both invisible and exposed in our emotional landscapes.
The tension between fragmentation and unity is explored here as well—just as in the collage, where individual elements come together to form a cohesive narrative, the grey bear emerges from a blend of light and dark, offering a glimpse into a world where connection and isolation exist simultaneously. This drawing is not just a visual representation but an emotional one, allowing the viewer to feel the weight of those quiet, unspoken truths that shape our existence. Together, Words We Say, Loneliness We Hide and Whispers of the Grey Bear speak to the delicate balance between the masks we wear and the vulnerability we often hide, offering a space for reflection on the complex nature of human connection and solitude.
Hong Kong
Material: Micron pens on paper
Dimensions: 12x18 inches
Year: 2020
Dimensions: 12x18 inches
Year: 2020
Cat cafe
Material: Micron pens on paper
Dimensions: 12x18 inches
Year: 2020
Dimensions: 12x18 inches
Year: 2020
Wave
Material: Acrylics on canvas
Dimensions: 24x24 inches
Dimensions: 24x24 inches
Way to Happiness
Material: Acrylic on canvas
Dimensions: 16x12 inches
Year: 2020
Dimensions: 16x12 inches
Year: 2020
Dream
Material: Acrylic on canvas
Dimensions: 14x11 inches
Year: 2020
Dimensions: 14x11 inches
Year: 2020
Still
Material: Charcoal on paper and wooden manikin
Dimensions: 16x20 inches with 12” manikin
Year: 2020
Dimensions: 16x20 inches with 12” manikin
Year: 2020
Living Room in the Dark
Material: Charcoal
Dimensions: 16x20 inches
Year: 2021
Dimensions: 16x20 inches
Year: 2021
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