My artistic practice begins with a question that continues to follow me: What does it mean to belong?

Having left Taiwan nearly a decade ago, the word home has grown increasingly ambiguous. Childhood memories remind me of a place filled with love, yet also of constraint—a space where expressing my true self was not always safe. From this, I realized that belonging is not only something given from the outside; it is something we cultivate from within.

To explore this, I turn away from figuration and toward abstract geometry, fluid lines, and layered forms. My process often involves meditation and card rituals, which transform painting into a dialogue with the subconscious. The compositions that emerge—branching shapes, drifting patterns—mirror the unpredictable movements of thought and emotion.

I see each work not as a completed narrative, but as a meditation in progress. They resist fixed meaning, instead opening space for viewers to enter quietly, to feel rather than decipher. In this way, the work is less about offering answers than about holding presence.

Through these gestures, I hope to create spaces where the fragmented nature of self can be witnessed with gentleness, and where belonging reveals itself—not as certainty, but as the freedom to dwell within uncertainty.