Rainy season arrives as soon as the summer begins in Shanghai. For some reasons, I rarely remember to bring an umbrella with me. I have a lot of umbrellas, most of them are transparent ones bought at subway stations. When it suddenly starts pouring rain, umbrella vendors in Shanghai gather at each crowded exit of the subway stations to sell umbrellas to people like me. The cheapest umbrellas they have are always the transparent ones. The whole city is turned upside down by the rain with its reflections on every street. Then a transparent umbrella opens up, then another, leaving the station, and disappearing around the streets corners, like a group of jellyfish wandering through the damp city, a parallel ocean where we reside.

I feel the urge to create something when there are moments and feelings beyond my spoken language. These are usually not scientific but rather dialogic. I trust my instinct to encounter my surroundings, exploring the textures and untranslatable subtleties that anchor us to the environment. Being present and sincere to a specific moment and space is thus crucial. Interpretation is more important to me than intention. This probably is the reason why I find it very hard to describe those Work. I have used vague descriptions like “something tender”, “feeling of a hug” and “I want people to lie down” when being asked about what I want to achieve with these works, be it an installation, a sound piece or any form that feels the most relevant to me. They are my supplementary language, my second voice.

Thank you for taking the time to know Me. Talk soon.