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There is a recurring motif in my paintings: knobbly trees. They emerge through a process rooted in repetition, circles drawn over and over, a practice instilled in me by my first art teacher, who believed that the ability to draw a perfect circle defined artistic discipline. Though perfection is logically impossible, the act of striving toward it became foundational to my work.

Raised in a mixed Chinese-English household and trained rigorously across multiple disciplines, I experienced a tension between structure and freedom. Creativity was encouraged, but within firm expectations. This duality led me to pursue both artistic expression, through painting and singing, and a degree in mathematics.

The knobbly trees in my work act as metaphors for the body, spirit, and material existence. Built from repeated circular forms, they reflect the idea that identity is constructed through accumulation of experience, memory, and subconscious influence. Through a mathematical lens, I see human existence as an equation: constant in its fundamental structure, yet infinitely varied through its inputs. We are the same, yet entirely distinct.

My ongoing body of work, The Spirit Stays Constant, functions as a visual diary. It traces shifting versions of self across time, each piece a moment, a state, a transformation. While the external form continuously changes, something internal remains unchanged. This tension between permanence and flux defines both the work and the self. In this sense, I see my practice as one of continual evolution, shaped by perception, yet anchored by an enduring core.

The female form appears frequently in my paintings, exploring the balance between masculine and feminine energies. These figures are not presented for consumption, but for confrontation, for vulnerability, questioning, and, at times, discomfort. They exist in a space that resists objectification and instead invites introspection.