My past and present are split; who I was and who I am now are very different, but I have experienced many of the same struggles in both parts of my life. When I lived in China, I struggled to connect to the people around me, despite my facade of the polite and humble daughter and friend who got along with everyone. I was suffering. I had no friends. I moved to America, cutting all ties and letting go of my past, thinking this was the answer to my misery. Rootless and alone, I was nobody. Once again I was suffering.
This loneliness and emptiness provoked me to find something, a place I could go to feel fulfilled and whole and it was at this point that my journey with metalworking began. Metal is a fascinating and complex material, and our relationship to it is just as complex. Many people wear metal on their body everyday, it’s surface so smooth and curves so soft that it perfectly hugs the skin. Yet metal has the power to rip through flesh and bone, taking lives seconds. This wide spectrum of use and the complicated relationships we have with this material often informs my work.
I found my identity in metal, I can relate to its irate properties. With all that possibility, two parts of me can finally make a truce and embrace each other. Through my work, I get to reintroduce myself to the past that I once cut off and form a complete identity for who I truly am. The strong oriental influence prevalent in my jewelry combines cultural memories and traditions with an international language of adornment.