Her paintings consistently retain a restrained gentleness—light, subtle colors, soft and even somewhat blurred contours—as if intentionally keeping objects in an unfinished state. She seems to be testing whether lingering traces can persist in inevitable transitions, existing in another form; her works reflect how individual memories are folded, reorganized, and redefined under the erosion of time.
In her paintings, elements often appear in pairs—two trees, two leaves—echoing each other while maintaining a delicate distance. This repetition is not merely a compositional habit but rather the echo of time, where a fleeting moment is recalled elsewhere. The result is a quiet yet perceptible tension beneath the lightness of her imagery.
The spatial arrangement of her exhibitions further amplifies this rhythm. Her works are not conventionally aligned but are instead placed in staggered positions that respond to the architecture of the walls—some close to the ground, propped up by stones; others hanging high, requiring viewers to look up. This arrangement creates a fluid relationship between the pieces, guiding the viewer’s gaze through the space, immersing them in the world she portrays. At the center of the exhibition, wooden pillars descend vertically from the ceiling, resembling the upward-growing plants in her paintings. These pillars serve both as spatial installations and as integral parts of the exhibition—small paintings are suspended from them, with flowers in the artwork seamlessly merging into this metaphor of organic growth. The pillars connect the floor and ceiling, allowing the imagery of plants to extend and grow beyond the canvas into the exhibition space.
In her recent text-based paintings, the artist topologically reconstructs fragments of emotions left unsent in her phone’s notes. By dismantling and rearranging unspoken memories and feelings, she renders them indecipherable to others while preserving their existence within the image. This process acts both as a safeguard for her vulnerable emotions and as a resistance to forgetting. Each character retains its original strokes yet is deconstructed into abstract symbols within the pictorial space, forming an ambiguous state between writing and painting—like an encrypted archive of emotional memory. For instance, the phrase “I love you” is broken into three separate radicals, dissolving the word’s literal meaning through visual reassembly while encapsulating the trembling emotions of its inscription within the textures of the pigment. This approach is akin to sealing intimate emotions in amber, resisting the digital age’s tendency to erase memories with a single keystroke.