Instead of thinking of my art as being “about” something, I think of it as a residue of my effort to survive under pressure and weight.

When I say my art is “about” something, it can come across as if I make art to intentionally communicate or express something. I do not make art to intentionally communicate or express something.

What motivates me to make art is the pressure and weight I feel to take personal responsibility for my survival as an artist. My attunement to the sense of responsibility I feel is critical to my art practice.

When I was a teenager I was told to choose a role I wish to play in society. The role I chose was that of an “artist.”

To me, making this choice was akin to making a pledge to take responsibility for continuously creating new and beautiful works of art no matter the hurdles I may face. The moment I stop doing this, for whatever reason, will both be the moment I stop taking responsibility as an artist and the moment I “die” as an artist. In that sense, the practice of making art, to me, is synonymous with surviving as an artist.

The weight of responsibility I feel as an artist is heavy. The pressure I feel to take responsibility is equally taxing. But the simple fact that I willingly chose the role of an artist means that I’m also willing to accept the weight and pressure as the cost of having chosen this role. I do not wish to make excuses. I simply wish to do my best to take responsibility for fulfilling the role I have chosen.

If you must make my art to be “about” something, perhaps you can say that my art is about reminding us of the beauty and value in the things we do under pressure and weight.

This is especially relevant to my wall-mounted work, because the wall-mounted work signals my intention to sublimate the pressure weight I feel from mere emotion into a visible method of fabrication.

All of my wall-mounted works of art are made by applying pressure and weight to hook-and-loop fasteners. This was a deliberate choice I made to go from merely feeling pressure and weight to leveraging the pressure and weight as a visible method of fabrication.

In doing so it made me realize that much of what we consider beautiful in nature such as the mountains and valleys are mere residues of nature under pressure and weight. I had intuitively felt a sense of beauty and value in the pressure and weight I felt, but to visibly see it was a sifnificantly difference experience altogether.

When we’re under a great deal pressure and weight, it’s easy to judge the experience as “bad.” It’s much harder to see the beauty and value in the experience. In fact, the experience can sometimes lead us to lose the confidence and certainty we once felt in what we do, leaving us doubting whether our efforts are good enough. In such times, I believe we need a way to remind us that our efforts do matter. That the work we’re doing is beautiful. That our work deserves to be recognized and appreciated.

I experience much doubt in the process of making art. Each time is a struggle. Because I’m always striving for something new, it does not get easier. To complete my work is to channel every last drop of energy and vitality I have. It also accompanies an ongoing effort on my part to seek the support I need to recover my energy and vitality. I hope those who witness my work can feel the energy and vitality I have channeled into the process. If my artwork can contribute even a little bit to their recovery during periods of self-doubt, I would have nothing more to ask.

From 2007 to 2009, I enrolled in graduate school, where I challenged myself to work with non-precious materials. As a classically trained metalsmith well-versed in the use of precious metals, this was my way of putting myself under pressure to go beyond what I was already familiar.

I experimented with a variety of non-precious materials such as beans, cable-ties, and electric caps. Hook-and-loop fasteners was one of them.

After graduate school, I was under pressure to survive financially as a way to take responsibility for the choice I have made to be an artist. Having experimented with non-precious materials, it now made sense that I continue working with non-precious materials in order to increase the possibility of surviving as an artist by lowering material and fabrication costs.

At the time I was focused on making wearable art and I noticed how the marketplace for wearable art was known for pressuring artists to use nothing but precious stones and metals. I took it upon myself to 

 some tools for working with fabric. Like easy action scissors, sewing tools, also hand-dyeing tools. 

No.

No, I don’t draw or make models. I work directly with materials. It is the best way for me to be surprised. This moment of surprise is important for me, because I am constantly trying to go beyond what I know, and what I am comfortable enough to imagine.

 my creative process has been to push the limitation of one material (Velcro® hook and loop fasteners) to create hundreds of complex forms. I find that working directly with materials is the best way to be surprised. This moment of surprise is important for me, because I am constantly trying to go beyond what I know, and what I am comfortable with. 

During the 6 years, I noticed that this kind of exploratory process takes on a form similar to that of the evolutionary process found in nature. More specifically, there is a process called artificial selection, which describes intentional breeding for certain traits, or a combination of traits, by human. Within my working process, I use my judgment, aesthetic bias, and imagination to continuously choose and select specific traits of my chosen material to be further developed and accentuated. This becomes the foundational principle behind how new form develops in my work. The artificial selection is generally much faster than natural selection, and it has been fascinating to realize that even in a climate of such limited resources, infinite possibilities can be brought to fruition through this process. In this process I use simple craft methods such as cutting, twisting, bending, rolling, gathering, attaching, detaching, assembling, and accumulating. How I use these simple actions in the context of the search develops and informs the structure of the form I am making.

From 2007 to 2009, I enrolled in graduate school, where I challenged myself to work with non-precious materials. As a classically trained metalsmith well-versed in the use of precious metals, this was my way of putting myself under pressure to go beyond what I was already familiar.

I experimented with a variety of non-precious materials such as beans, cable-ties, and electric caps. Hook-and-loop fasteners was one of them.

After graduate school, I was under pressure to survive financially as a way to take responsibility for the choice I have made to be an artist. Having experimented with non-precious materials, it now made sense that I continue working with non-precious materials in order to increase the possibility of surviving as an artist by lowering material and fabrication costs.

At the time I was focused on making wearable art and I noticed how the marketplace for wearable art was known for pressuring artists to use nothing but precious stones and metals. I took it upon myself to 

 some tools for working with fabric. Like easy action scissors, sewing tools, also hand-dyeing tools. 

No.

No, I don’t draw or make models. I work directly with materials. It is the best way for me to be surprised. This moment of surprise is important for me, because I am constantly trying to go beyond what I know, and what I am comfortable enough to imagine.

 my creative process has been to push the limitation of one material (Velcro® hook and loop fasteners) to create hundreds of complex forms. I find that working directly with materials is the best way to be surprised. This moment of surprise is important for me, because I am constantly trying to go beyond what I know, and what I am comfortable with. 

During the 6 years, I noticed that this kind of exploratory process takes on a form similar to that of the evolutionary process found in nature. More specifically, there is a process called artificial selection, which describes intentional breeding for certain traits, or a combination of traits, by human. Within my working process, I use my judgment, aesthetic bias, and imagination to continuously choose and select specific traits of my chosen material to be further developed and accentuated. This becomes the foundational principle behind how new form develops in my work. The artificial selection is generally much faster than natural selection, and it has been fascinating to realize that even in a climate of such limited resources, infinite possibilities can be brought to fruition through this process. In this process I use simple craft methods such as cutting, twisting, bending, rolling, gathering, attaching, detaching, assembling, and accumulating. How I use these simple actions in the context of the search develops and informs the structure of the form I am making.