ManicWorld Magazine

Why is connection so important in your work?

Growing up as an Asian American in areas that were largely homogeneous and largely white hyper-visibility became a constant companion. While I yearned to blend into a crowd or a group my race prohibited this possibility. Now, as an adult, I appreciate that experience as it helped me learn to truly look and see things. Venturing beyond the visual I learned to seek the kernels of similarities thus seeing connection.

In studying art, finding themes, shapes, and colors, regardless of where in the world it’s found or when it was created is deeply awe inspiring. It served to intensify my belief that all nature is somehow connected.

Working in clay is a concrete way I jump into the infinite of the universe. Made from all the elements, shaped by hand, designed by the collective of what’s been seen, experienced, and imagined, clay itself is connection. Whether it is the microcosm of the clay body becoming a finished piece of work or the macrocosm of finished work becoming one with the Earth again, it embodies the eternal cycle of life.

The natural world around me is usually found as inspiration in my work. My desire is that people will find connection to the world around us and one another through my art. Whether people find nourishment for their bodies through a functional piece or nourishment for their mind and soul through an art piece, I seek connection and to help connect. 

– What sort of connections have you been able to make through your art then? How have you experienced it creating connections with other people?

Visual, emotional, historical, and what feels Jungian in nature are all kinds of connections I’ve made through my art. The shapes that  I create most naturally are those that since I first started working in clay seem to flow from places in my mind’s eye that my conscious eye had yet to study. These creations in turn speak to others. Whether or not someone decides to bring that work physically into their lives, if it’s impacted or connected with them visually they will take it home in their psyche. 

Having an adult who could see you and encourage you at an important juncture in my growth left an indelible imprint in my being. Through my art I was able to speak and be understood. I was able to blend in yet remain an individual among my peers. This adult was a serious, imposing figure of a man. My art teacher in highschool was an ex football player and an extremely quiet person; he was greatly feared among the students. The students who dared take his courses learned that “art is a visual language”. It wasn’t until well into my sophomore year of high school that I worked up the courage to try and take an intro course in art. And while he indeed was a serious, intimidating person, he was a passionate and skilled teacher. The prowess I had developed early in life of observing and seeing flourished in his class and I finally found a place I felt I belonged. 

“My grandchildren just love eating out of the bowls you made.” Hearing this statement from a respected fellow artist fed and truly still feeds my soul. I was a young artist just starting out and making mostly functional pottery. She commissioned a set from me and decades later she shared that statement. Knowing that my work was such an intimate part of her life and the lives of her family in bringing them nourishment touches me deeply and fills me with gratitude for that high school teacher.