A flower that looks like it’s bragging.
An insect walking like it owns the place.
Light falling into the wrong corner.

Those small, fleeting things are where I anchor myself. They stop life from feeling too heavy, and they’re what I bring into my paintings: bright colours, thick textures, warmth with a streak of humour, beauty without the sugar-coating.

I’m a Chinese artist born in Hong Kong. After many years in the Netherlands, the UK, and France, I now live in Spain with my husband, our twins, and a rescue lurcher who thinks he’s human.

My journey has been shaped by the early loss of both my fathers to cancer, and later my mother. Their absence, and the complexity of family ties, left a deep mark on me — but they don’t define who I am. What defines me is how I choose to look at life: not through endless sorrow, but through the strange, fleeting details that make it bearable — sometimes even joyful.

I studied painting at art college and I’ve painted ever since. I’ve waitressed, pulled pints, done what I had to do — but painting has always been the constant. It’s never been a hobby, never something I could put down.

This perspective runs through my work, weaving themes of emotion, beauty, and life’s complexities into each piece. Through bold, textured strokes, I explore the chaotic beauty of existence and the resilience of the human spirit. Each painting is an invitation to find personal reflections within the layers — a space for connection and introspection.

My art isn’t decoration.
It doesn’t just hang there.
It stares back.
It jokes.
It stays with you.