My work grows from my perception of Eastern culture— a sense of restraint, stillness, and movement, a rhythm that breathes without speaking. I paint with thick textures, palette knives, and natural cracking, allowing pigment to spread as if it were growing of its own will. I do not force direction; I coexist with the material—listening, waiting. The breathing quality of Eastern liubai (negative space) informs my work. Soft tones, faint ink marks, and quiet gaps on the canvas all echo the aesthetics of traditional ink painting. Space invites air to enter. Pale colors slow the rhythm. A drop of ink falls like the sound of time— subtle, but enduring. My colors are rooted in Eastern landscapes: Green like pine needles and the whisper of grass, Gold like fire, like light, like a burning sunset, Ochre like earth, like mountain grain, Ivory like mist and water, Ink like time itself. For me, painting is not about occupying the canvas, but about allowing nature to occur. Flows, cracks, unexpected marks—I do not correct them. In Eastern aesthetics, the broken, the incomplete, the accidental are alive in their own quiet beauty. My works are not finished—they are allowed to grow. I stand beside them, watching color find its own place, watching wind, soil, mist, and time settle slowly into the surface. If you find calm, strength, or an unnamed emotion within them, that is their truest meaning— and the space I wish to offer the viewer.
