Artist Statement
My work is not about explaining the world; it’s about dismantling the emotional structures that everyday life tries to conceal. What I focus on is not “story,” but the dynamics between people—the pull and tension of intimacy, the quiet control embedded in family, the fractures that come with migration, and how an individual maintains their boundaries within these systems.
I grew up between shifting cultures and languages, often in environments where I was expected—needed—claimed by others. I was asked to understand, to accommodate, to take care, to adjust. Even the gentlest relationships carried an undercurrent of consumption. That tension became the foundation of my creative work.
The characters in my stories are not moral types. They each carry a kind of private conflict: they want closeness but fear being swallowed; they long to be seen but can’t fully expose themselves; they are asked again and again to give—to family, to love, to work—without knowing how to keep space for themselves. These aren’t inventions; they’re reflections of lived experience. Writing, for me, is a way to unearth the emotions that have been suppressed, ignored, or normalized—and let them speak again.
I gravitate toward rhythmic narrative structures: compressed scenes, quick shifts, intentional gaps, silences between characters. These spaces reveal more truth than dialogue ever could. The themes I explore—migration, family, identity, trauma, intimacy, female autonomy—ultimately point to a single question: how does a person protect their boundaries in a world that constantly pulls at them, demands from them, watches them?
Creating is neither escape nor self-soothing. It is a way of reclaiming authorship over my own narrative. When I write a character’s silence, resistance, hesitation, or departure, I’m answering one essential question:
When the world insists on defining me, how do I choose to define myself?
艺术家陈述
我的创作不是为了解释世界，是为了拆开被日常掩盖的情绪结构。我关注的核心不是“故事”，而是人与人之间的力量关系——亲密带来的拉扯、家庭带来的隐性控制、身份在迁徙中的断裂，以及一个人在这些结构里如何保持自己的边界。
出生在不断变化的文化与语言之间，长期处在“被期待—被需要—被占用”的环境里。很多时候，我被要求理解别人、照顾别人、顺着环境。那些看似温和的关系里，也潜藏着吞噬性的需求。这种张力成了我创作的源头。
在我的故事里，人物不是善恶分明的类型。他们都带着某种困境：他们想靠近别人，但又害怕被吞没；他们渴望被看见，却无法完全暴露自己；他们在家庭、爱情、工作里不断被要求付出，却不知道怎样为自己保留空间。这并不是虚构，是现实经验的折射。我写作，把那些长期被压抑、被忽略、被习惯化的情感重新挖出来，让它们重新发声。
我倾向于使用节奏性的叙事结构：压缩的篇幅、快速切换的场景、留白的空间、人物之间的静默。这些“空隙”比对白本身更能暴露一个人的真实状态。我处理的主题是移民、家庭、身份、创伤、亲密、女性的自主性，但它们都指向同一件事：一个人如何在被拉扯、被要求、被凝视的世界里，维护自己的边界。
创作不是逃避，也不是自我疗愈，是重新夺回叙事权的方式。当我写下一个人物的沉默、反抗、犹豫或离开，我其实是在回答一个核心问题：
当世界不断定义我时，我选择如何定义自己？
Artist Statement
My work is not about explaining the world; it’s about dismantling the emotional structures that everyday life tries to conceal. What I focus on is not “story,” but the dynamics between people—the pull and tension of intimacy, the quiet control embedded in family, the fractures that come with migration, and how an individual maintains their boundaries within these systems.
I grew up between shifting cultures and languages, often in environments where I was expected—needed—claimed by others. I was asked to understand, to accommodate, to take care, to adjust. Even the gentlest relationships carried an undercurrent of consumption. That tension became the foundation of my creative work.
The characters in my stories are not moral types. They each carry a kind of private conflict: they want closeness but fear being swallowed; they long to be seen but can’t fully expose themselves; they are asked again and again to give—to family, to love, to work—without knowing how to keep space for themselves. These aren’t inventions; they’re reflections of lived experience. Writing, for me, is a way to unearth the emotions that have been suppressed, ignored, or normalized—and let them speak again.
I gravitate toward rhythmic narrative structures: compressed scenes, quick shifts, intentional gaps, silences between characters. These spaces reveal more truth than dialogue ever could. The themes I explore—migration, family, identity, trauma, intimacy, female autonomy—ultimately point to a single question: how does a person protect their boundaries in a world that constantly pulls at them, demands from them, watches them?
Creating is neither escape nor self-soothing. It is a way of reclaiming authorship over my own narrative. When I write a character’s silence, resistance, hesitation, or departure, I’m answering one essential question:
When the world insists on defining me, how do I choose to define myself?
艺术家陈述
我的创作不是为了解释世界，是为了拆开被日常掩盖的情绪结构。我关注的核心不是“故事”，而是人与人之间的力量关系——亲密带来的拉扯、家庭带来的隐性控制、身份在迁徙中的断裂，以及一个人在这些结构里如何保持自己的边界。
出生在不断变化的文化与语言之间，长期处在“被期待—被需要—被占用”的环境里。很多时候，我被要求理解别人、照顾别人、顺着环境。那些看似温和的关系里，也潜藏着吞噬性的需求。这种张力成了我创作的源头。
在我的故事里，人物不是善恶分明的类型。他们都带着某种困境：他们想靠近别人，但又害怕被吞没；他们渴望被看见，却无法完全暴露自己；他们在家庭、爱情、工作里不断被要求付出，却不知道怎样为自己保留空间。这并不是虚构，是现实经验的折射。我写作，把那些长期被压抑、被忽略、被习惯化的情感重新挖出来，让它们重新发声。
我倾向于使用节奏性的叙事结构：压缩的篇幅、快速切换的场景、留白的空间、人物之间的静默。这些“空隙”比对白本身更能暴露一个人的真实状态。我处理的主题是移民、家庭、身份、创伤、亲密、女性的自主性，但它们都指向同一件事：一个人如何在被拉扯、被要求、被凝视的世界里，维护自己的边界。
创作不是逃避，也不是自我疗愈，是重新夺回叙事权的方式。当我写下一个人物的沉默、反抗、犹豫或离开，我其实是在回答一个核心问题：
当世界不断定义我时，我选择如何定义自己？
Artist Statement
My work is not about explaining the world; it’s about dismantling the emotional structures that everyday life tries to conceal. What I focus on is not “story,” but the dynamics between people—the pull and tension of intimacy, the quiet control embedded in family, the fractures that come with migration, and how an individual maintains their boundaries within these systems.
I grew up between shifting cultures and languages, often in environments where I was expected—needed—claimed by others. I was asked to understand, to accommodate, to take care, to adjust. Even the gentlest relationships carried an undercurrent of consumption. That tension became the foundation of my creative work.
The characters in my stories are not moral types. They each carry a kind of private conflict: they want closeness but fear being swallowed; they long to be seen but can’t fully expose themselves; they are asked again and again to give—to family, to love, to work—without knowing how to keep space for themselves. These aren’t inventions; they’re reflections of lived experience. Writing, for me, is a way to unearth the emotions that have been suppressed, ignored, or normalized—and let them speak again.
I gravitate toward rhythmic narrative structures: compressed scenes, quick shifts, intentional gaps, silences between characters. These spaces reveal more truth than dialogue ever could. The themes I explore—migration, family, identity, trauma, intimacy, female autonomy—ultimately point to a single question: how does a person protect their boundaries in a world that constantly pulls at them, demands from them, watches them?
Creating is neither escape nor self-soothing. It is a way of reclaiming authorship over my own narrative. When I write a character’s silence, resistance, hesitation, or departure, I’m answering one essential question:
When the world insists on defining me, how do I choose to define myself?
艺术家陈述
我的创作不是为了解释世界，是为了拆开被日常掩盖的情绪结构。我关注的核心不是“故事”，而是人与人之间的力量关系——亲密带来的拉扯、家庭带来的隐性控制、身份在迁徙中的断裂，以及一个人在这些结构里如何保持自己的边界。
出生在不断变化的文化与语言之间，长期处在“被期待—被需要—被占用”的环境里。很多时候，我被要求理解别人、照顾别人、顺着环境。那些看似温和的关系里，也潜藏着吞噬性的需求。这种张力成了我创作的源头。
在我的故事里，人物不是善恶分明的类型。他们都带着某种困境：他们想靠近别人，但又害怕被吞没；他们渴望被看见，却无法完全暴露自己；他们在家庭、爱情、工作里不断被要求付出，却不知道怎样为自己保留空间。这并不是虚构，是现实经验的折射。我写作，把那些长期被压抑、被忽略、被习惯化的情感重新挖出来，让它们重新发声。
我倾向于使用节奏性的叙事结构：压缩的篇幅、快速切换的场景、留白的空间、人物之间的静默。这些“空隙”比对白本身更能暴露一个人的真实状态。我处理的主题是移民、家庭、身份、创伤、亲密、女性的自主性，但它们都指向同一件事：一个人如何在被拉扯、被要求、被凝视的世界里，维护自己的边界。
创作不是逃避，也不是自我疗愈，是重新夺回叙事权的方式。当我写下一个人物的沉默、反抗、犹豫或离开，我其实是在回答一个核心问题：
当世界不断定义我时，我选择如何定义自己？