My artwork begins with a preoccupation: how thin can a form become before it trembles, and how close to breaking must it be to feel alive? 

During a time of unexpected ailment, I turned to paper clay and slip-casting to pursue that question. These materials let me pull the walls of the vessel toward the edge of collapse, holding on just enough to endure. From clay to glaze, every decision in this piece is an attempt to register the precariousness of a body— its beauty, its limits, its need for care. The surface does not conceal that vulnerability; it acknowledges it. 

I placed the work on a surgical trolley. That clinical frame was important: it shifts the piece from a neutral display to a site of tension, invoking the cold brightness of hospitals and the quiet dread that accompanies them. The trolley asks viewers to meet the work not only as an object but as a patient—fragile, exposed, and held in place by the instruments that both threaten and protect. Fear and tenderness coexist there.

My work explores the value of seal engraving nowadays. Inspired by my grandma’s personal story, I gathered the message she sent to me and created a set of four seals, including blessings and flowers with good symbols. 

By creating a dialogue between a traditional Chinese form of art and contemporary culture, I hope to inspire viewers to observe their daily lives or everyday objects and combine them with art. 

The work combined design, installation, and satirical graphics to construct a highly materialistic society. Thus, it examined how education can hinder childhood creativity by prioritising monetary value.  

To simulate an official project, diverse materials were employed with performative protocols, such as weekly audits, rules, and penalties. Borrowing these graphics from government documentation, the boundary between the constructed and reality is blurred. Besides, local idioms were adopted as intensive provocations, as inspired by Hong Kong artist Wong Ping's use of humour and sarcasm.  

In the school programme, the societal, parental, and institutional pressures, which compel children to equate personal worth with income and reputation, are examined – a diary tracks mandatory earnings; a customisable piggy bank is cracked weekly to audit savings; embroidered ‘Fail’ badges record non-compliance. Simultaneously, drawings do not improve grades, highlighting the futility of aesthetic effort under a commercialised rubric, while emphasising the satirical nature of my practice.