To me, art is about discovery: noticing small, often overlooked things in the world, and letting them touch our hearts and connect people across cultures. The process of observing, creating, failing, and re‑creating is what I truly enjoy.
Before fully dedicating myself to sculpture, I spent many years working in communication and writing. At times I felt I was living by a pen, shaping meaning with words. To my surprise, I gradually realised that writing and sculpture share a deep kinship. Just as a text is rewritten, edited, and re‑thought, a sculpture is built through repeated carving, layering, and reshaping, until it feels right.
Much of my work drifts between two and three dimensions. I often construct 3D sculptures by folding and assembling 2D materials — such as prints and drawings, fabric, or wax sheets — so that the same line or image exists both as a trace within the layers and as a volume in space. This in-between state — 游離於二三維之間 — is where I feel most at home: shapes remember their flat beginnings, while paper, print, and drawing take on weight, volume, and shadow.
Whether I’m translating words into another language or allowing materials to undergo a physical transformation, both processes demand mind, body, and heart. The result is work that carries the marks of making, re‑making, and drifting across boundaries—between surface and volume, between languages, and between what we see and what we feel.