Her bottom drawer Painting

I find it exceedingly difficult to talk about my own work—any elaboration beyond the work itself risks falling into either tedious redundancy or inadequate expression. For me, art ought to retain a certain deliberate ambiguity. At times, I wonder whether this is merely another form of powerlessness I face when confronted by language. If compelled to speak, I can only express it this way: I am deeply captivated by using painting to channel my emotions, exploring the liminal space between tradition and contemporary reality. At the same time, I am fascinated by depicting the human subconscious and those invisible connections between people, between people and objects, and between people and the world. These reflections on identity, belonging, and otherness form the ongoing thematic concerns of my contemplation. At the heart of my creative practice, I also yearn for a kind of pure fulfillment—a freedom of expression unconstrained by the pressures of social existence. Yet, this leads me to question: if all external distractions were stripped away, whether they be pain or joy, would the wellspring of inspiration and motivation for creation inevitably run dry？