Mythology — NATURAL HARMONICS & LIVING SYSTEMS
Being born and raised a Buddhist in Taiwan and growing up in America, while working across communications and fine art in both cultures, has shaped how I think and create.
Working with systems like the I Ching, Feng Shui, BaZi, and Qi Men, alongside Western frameworks like Gene Keys, I started to notice a pattern — energy isn’t separate. It moves between what we feel and what we see. Over time, I began developing my own system, bringing these perspectives together in a way that feels coherent to me, and using technology as a tool to help connect and reflect these patterns more clearly.
There’s also research showing that living cells emit very subtle light — sometimes described as biophotons. It’s not something we can clearly see, but the idea stayed with me — not as proof, but as a way of thinking — that what happens internally has a kind of presence, even if it’s barely visible.
For me, it’s simple.
Light moves in waves.
Sound moves in waves.
And at a fundamental level, physics shows that matter and energy are deeply connected.
Sound moves in waves.
And at a fundamental level, physics shows that matter and energy are deeply connected.
Not as something to prove, but as a way of understanding — that what we experience internally, whether it’s emotion, thought, or presence, may also follow patterns, rhythms, and resonance.
That’s where my work sits.
As a classically trained visual artist, I’m constantly finding better ways to express my emotions and thoughts.
What’s different in my process comes from my Eastern and Western cultural background, and from the system I’ve developed by combining these philosophies with technology. I use this system to inform my understanding of natural harmonics — through color, elements, and forms in nature, and through animals that carry movement and feeling.
From there, I translate that into my artwork.
—
For me, this isn’t about proving anything.
It’s about noticing patterns —
and making them visible.
and making them visible.
Oil on Wooden Door: 76cm X 196cm
This piece began in Shanghai, during a time when the city was constantly reshaping itself. I lived in a neighborhood where entire streets of history were being torn down and replaced almost overnight. There was something both fascinating and unsettling about witnessing that — the speed, the decisiveness, the quiet acceptance that the past could simply disappear. At the time, I didn’t fully question it. It felt like part of the rhythm of the place, something deeply embedded in the culture.
But I also carried another perspective. Having lived between worlds, I understood the instinct to preserve, to hold onto what came before. That tension stayed with me. So I bought one of those old doors before it disappeared, almost as a way of keeping a fragment of that moment. I painted on it without fully knowing what I was creating — something between a dragon, a horse, a chi-ling. At that time, I was still rooted in figurative work, just beginning to step into mythology without fully realizing where it would lead.
Years later, after returning to Taiwan, after the stillness of the pandemic and new collaborations with artists across different mediums, I came back to this piece. This time, I didn’t just finish it — I extended it. The digital layer, the projection, allowed the work to breathe differently, to move beyond the surface of the door and into space itself. Looking back now, I realize that what I painted years ago was already pointing toward something much older — the image of a dragon-horse emerging from the river, a symbol tied to the origins of change itself. That connection wasn’t intentional then, but it feels undeniable now. And for that, I feel a deep sense of gratitude.
🌿 Natural Harmonics (Process Reflection)
This piece brings together multiple timelines into one form. The physical door carries history and memory, while the projection introduces movement and transformation. Old and new are not in conflict here — they are layered, each giving the other meaning.
It reflects a pattern where creation happens in stages, sometimes years apart. What begins without full awareness can later reveal its deeper structure. When different parts of your life start to connect like this, it’s less about control and more about recognition.
🧿 Closing
When something you created long ago returns with new meaning… was it ever unfinished—
or just waiting for you to become the person who could see it?
or just waiting for you to become the person who could see it?
Water Dragon - Oil, Watercolor, Ink on Paper - 53 X 38cm
I began this piece during the year of the dragon, at a time when everything in my life felt charged with energy. There was a strong pull toward growth, toward pushing myself further, and stepping into something more powerful. It wasn’t a quiet period. It was intense, focused, and at times overwhelming, but it also felt necessary.
As I worked on the piece, I found myself going deeper into the details — the textures, the forms, the structure of the dragon itself. It wasn’t just about movement anymore. It was about control, precision, and building something that could hold that energy. The dragon became a central force, something both external and internal, something I was shaping, but also something that was shaping me in return.
Looking back, this piece reflects a moment of effort and intention. A time when I believed that growth came from pushing harder, reaching further, and taking hold of something larger than myself. It wasn’t easy, but it was part of the process. It taught me what it means to engage fully, even if I didn’t yet understand the balance that would come later.
🌿 Natural Harmonics (Process Reflection)
This piece is built on structure and intensity. The detailed textures and strong forms create a sense of control and focus, while the surrounding landscape brings in a natural flow that contrasts with it. There’s a tension between force and environment, between what is being shaped and what already exists.
It reflects a stage of growth where effort plays a central role. Sometimes we need to push, to test our limits, to understand what we’re capable of. But within that, there is also a lesson — that strength alone isn’t the whole picture.
🧿 Closing
Where in your life are you still pushing for control…
and what might change if you allowed some of that to soften?
and what might change if you allowed some of that to soften?
Fire Dragon - Oil, Watercolor, Ink on Paper - 53 X 38cm
After the water dragon, I moved into the fire dragon. It wasn’t just a continuation — it felt like a step into something new. I started paying closer attention to how different elements could exist together, not just in form, but in texture and movement. The head of the dragon, with the use of gold, became a focal point. It was one of the first times I consciously explored how gold could carry energy across the piece, not just as color, but as something that connected everything.
There was a lot of testing in this process. I was experimenting with patterns, with flow, with how the lines could move like currents through the composition. It wasn’t fully defined yet, but I could feel something forming — a language that wasn’t just visual, but structural. The balance between the reds, blues, and gold started to feel more intentional, even if I didn’t have a name for it at the time.
Looking back, this piece feels like the beginning of something that would continue to develop. It wasn’t resolved, but it didn’t need to be. It was a moment of discovery — when I started to understand that the way elements interact could carry as much meaning as the subject itself.
🌿 Natural Harmonics (Process Reflection)
This piece explores contrast and connection. The warmth of the reds and golds brings intensity, while the cooler tones create space within it. The flowing patterns tie everything together, allowing different elements to move as one.
It reflects a stage of experimentation — where understanding comes through doing. Sometimes clarity doesn’t arrive all at once. It builds through small shifts, through trying, adjusting, and seeing what holds.
🧿 Closing
When something new begins to take shape…
can you trust it, even before you fully understand it?
can you trust it, even before you fully understand it?
Korea Qilin no.1 - Oil, Watercolor, Ink on Paper - 53 X 38cm
I had been to Seoul many times for work, but it never felt like a place I truly connected with. That changed when I went back with my family. Something about experiencing it together shifted everything. The city felt different — more open, more alive. There was a kind of energy in the streets that I hadn’t noticed before, or maybe I just wasn’t ready to feel it yet.
As we walked, I started to sense something familiar, almost like a memory. Not a specific moment, but a feeling — light, playful, free. It reminded me of being a child, moving without overthinking, just following whatever felt right. That energy began to take shape as a dragon, weaving through the space, not separate from me but moving with me. It wasn’t something I was observing. It felt like something I was part of.
When I came back to the piece, I realized I wasn’t just painting a place. I was painting a version of myself I hadn’t felt in a long time. The different figures, the movement, the shifting forms — they all became fragments of that experience. Not controlled, not planned, just unfolding. It reminded me that sometimes energy isn’t something you create. It’s something you reconnect with.
🌿 Natural Harmonics (Process Reflection)
This piece is driven by motion and rhythm. The layered figures and flowing lines create a sense of continuous movement, like energy passing through different states. The contrast between structure and fluidity reflects both the city and the inner experience of being in it.
It speaks to rediscovery — not of something new, but something that was always there. There are moments when life brings you back to a feeling you didn’t realize you had lost. And in those moments, everything feels lighter, more open, more possible.
🧿 Closing
When was the last time you felt completely free…
and what would it take to return to that feeling again?
and what would it take to return to that feeling again?
Korea Qilin no.2 - Oil, Watercolor, Ink on Paper - 53 X 38cm
During my time in Seoul, I spent a lot of time moving between the city and its older spaces — temples, palaces, places that carried a very different kind of energy. One particular temple stayed with me. I found myself returning to it, walking through it slowly, without any real plan. There was something about the space that felt calm, but also alive in a way I couldn’t explain.
As I spent more time there, I began to feel a presence — something familiar, even though it wasn’t something I had seen before. That feeling started to take shape as a chi-ling. Not something imposed onto the space, but something that felt like it belonged there. The architecture, the trees, the stillness of the environment — they all became part of that experience, not separate from it.
Looking back, this piece feels like a response to that moment of recognition. Not something I tried to define, but something I allowed to emerge. It wasn’t about capturing the temple exactly as it was. It was about capturing how it felt to be there — to sense something beyond what was visible, and to trust that feeling enough to follow it.
🌿 Natural Harmonics (Process Reflection)
This piece brings together structure and intuition. The architectural forms ground it in a real place, while the chi-ling introduces something more fluid and interpretive. The flowing lines connect the two, allowing energy to move between them.
It reflects a moment of resonance — when a place speaks to you in a way that isn’t logical, but still feels clear. Sometimes understanding doesn’t come from analyzing. It comes from paying attention to what you feel, and letting that guide the process.
🧿 Closing
Have you ever stepped into a place… and felt like something there was already waiting for you?
Walking in Memory - Oil, Watercolor, Ink on Paper - 53 X 38cm
This piece came after I moved back to Taiwan, when I finally had time again. Time to walk, to slow down, to revisit the neighborhoods where I grew up — and also the ones I live in now. There was something about moving through these streets as an adult that felt different. Familiar, but not the same. I started to notice the architecture, the spaces, the small details I used to overlook. And at the same time, I found myself thinking about who I was back then, and who I’ve become.
As I walked, I began to feel that connection take shape visually. The figure in the street represents that present version of me, moving forward, while the form above became something else — not just a horse, but a chi-ling. A combination of horse, deer, and dragon. It wasn’t something I forced. It was something that had been forming in my mind for a while, and this piece was where it finally came together. The scales, the structure, the movement — it all started to merge into one form that felt both personal and rooted in something older.
Looking back, this piece feels like a bridge. Between past and present. Between who I was and who I am now. The swirling lines, which I once used as clouds, began to shift into something more — a way to express energy moving through space. Not separate from the environment, but part of it. This piece wasn’t just about place. It was about returning, and seeing everything with new eyes.
🌿 Natural Harmonics (Process Reflection)
This piece blends structure and memory. The architectural elements ground it in something real, while the chi-ling introduces a layered identity — something evolving, combining different influences into one form. The flowing lines connect everything, moving from physical space into something more fluid and expressive.
It reflects a moment of integration. When past and present don’t compete, but begin to inform each other. When what you’ve been carrying quietly starts to take shape in a way you can finally see.
🧿 Closing
When you return to where you came from…
do you see it the same way—
or do you finally see yourself more clearly?
do you see it the same way—
or do you finally see yourself more clearly?
Gaia Qilin no.1 - Oil, Watercolor, Ink on Paper - 53 X 38cm
With this piece, I felt a clear pull toward architectural invention. Rather than placing mythological figures into existing environments, I began constructing a world for them — a place where these creatures could genuinely live. At the time, I was living in Taiwan and traveling frequently through its landscapes, moving between dense cities and open nature, and that rhythm shaped the work deeply.
The landscape here is intentionally composite. Elements drawn from different regions of Taiwan are layered alongside distant references — including the Swiss Alps — not as literal geography, but as remembered terrain. These are places filtered through experience, movement, and attachment. The result is a cityscape woven into nature, where architecture grows out of land rather than standing apart from it.
The mythological presence acts as a guide rather than a spectacle. The figure moves calmly through the environment, suggesting a state of belonging rather than conquest. This work marks a moment where mythology becomes internalized — no longer something observed from a distance, but something that lives in parallel with daily movement, travel, and memory. These landscapes are not imagined futures or ancient pasts; they are places that exist quietly in my inner geography.
Natural Harmonics
Earth → belonging, synthesis, inner terrain
Land, city, and myth settle into one continuous system.
In life, this reflects the act of carrying multiple homes at once — allowing memory, travel, and imagination to merge into a grounded sense of place.
Earth → belonging, synthesis, inner terrain
Land, city, and myth settle into one continuous system.
In life, this reflects the act of carrying multiple homes at once — allowing memory, travel, and imagination to merge into a grounded sense of place.
Gaia Qilin no.2 - Oil, Watercolor, Ink on Paper - 53 X 38cm
I didn’t fully understand this piece until it emerged as a second work. Only then did I realize that the first painting was oriented inward — looking into the valley — while this one turns outward, toward the ocean. The two form a continuous landscape. In this piece, we stand on the mountain’s edge, with our backs to the valley of the first work.
That shift in orientation changed everything. The mythology here is less enclosed and more expansive. The creature stands at a threshold — between land and sea, interior and exterior — holding a quiet vantage point rather than moving through the terrain. What was once immersive becomes contemplative.
The landscape opens up. Architecture recedes into the terrain, while the horizon stretches outward. This piece completes the spatial logic of the world I was building — an environment that can be entered, traversed, and finally looked out from. Together, the two works function as an interior and exterior of the same imagined place, shaped as much by perception as by geography.
Natural Harmonics
Water → horizon, release, perspective
From the mountain, the sea becomes visible.
In life, this reflects the moment when an inner landscape is no longer contained — when what has been lived and integrated can finally be released outward, without urgency or explanation.
Water → horizon, release, perspective
From the mountain, the sea becomes visible.
In life, this reflects the moment when an inner landscape is no longer contained — when what has been lived and integrated can finally be released outward, without urgency or explanation.
Koi no.2 - Oil, Watercolor, Ink on Paper - 29 X 38cm
I’ve painted koi for a long time. In many ways, they’ve always been close to me — even in name. My Chinese name carries that connection, and over the years, the form of the koi has always brought me a sense of calm. It’s something I return to without needing to think too much. But this time felt different. I wasn’t just revisiting it — I wanted to go deeper.
After developing a new visual language over the past few years — working with gold, with flow, with how elements interact — I started to explore how those ideas could come into this series. The koi became a way to test that. Adding lotus and lilies, thinking about how the fish moves through water, and how water itself can feel both like a space you’re inside and something that surrounds you — it all began to shape the piece in a new way.
Working with two koi brought its own challenges. It wasn’t just about composition, but about relationship — how they move with each other, how they share the same space without losing their own presence. Looking back, this piece feels like the beginning of a new chapter. Not a departure, but a continuation with more intention, and a deeper understanding of what I’m trying to express.
🌿 Natural Harmonics (Process Reflection)
This piece explores flow and connection. The movement of the water, the presence of the lotus, and the interaction between the two koi all create a sense of rhythm that carries through the entire composition. The gold elements weave everything together, linking form and space.
It reflects a process of returning to something familiar, but with a different awareness. Sometimes growth doesn’t mean starting over. It means seeing what you already know in a new way, and allowing it to evolve.
🧿 Closing
What in your life keeps calling you back…
and what might it be asking you to see differently now?
and what might it be asking you to see differently now?
Koi no.1 - Oil, Watercolor, Ink on Paper - 29 X 38cm
This piece grew out of the first koi, but it didn’t feel like a direct continuation. I’ve noticed that I don’t consciously set out to create diptychs, but somehow, relationships between pieces start to form on their own. This one felt connected — almost like it belonged with another — but at the same time, it didn’t sit comfortably as a pair. It needed to stand on its own, even while holding that sense of connection.
Working with the idea of two koi, I became more aware of how they relate to each other, and also how they exist within their environment. I started to play more with that boundary — how they move through water, but also seem to exist beyond it. The forms stretch and shift, not bound by realism, but guided by a feeling of flow. The lotus elements, the surrounding space, all began to shape that relationship in a way that felt less fixed, more fluid.
Looking back, this piece feels like an exploration of connection without dependence. Two forms that can exist together, but don’t need to define each other. It also pushed me to question how much of reality I wanted to hold onto, and how much I was willing to let go in order to express something more internal.
🌿 Natural Harmonics (Process Reflection)
This piece explores duality and independence. The koi move within the same space, but each holds its own direction and presence. The fluid lines blur the boundary between water and form, creating a sense of openness rather than containment.
It reflects a stage of understanding that connection doesn’t always mean symmetry or balance in the traditional sense. Sometimes it’s about allowing differences to exist within the same flow.
🧿 Closing
Can two things be connected… without needing to become the same?
Moon Crane no.1 - Oil, Watercolor, Ink on Paper - 29 X 38cm
After painting the cranes at Qing Tian Gang, something shifted for me. It sparked a series I didn’t plan, but felt completely drawn into. For the first time in a long while, I found myself enjoying the process again — not thinking too much, not questioning every step, just following the work as it unfolded. There was a kind of ease to it that I hadn’t felt in years.
This piece came out of that momentum. I started exploring different elements — the moon, the clouds, the movement of the cranes — blending more detailed forms with more graphic shapes. The colors felt natural, almost like they were choosing themselves. The contrast between the deep blues and warm golds brought a sense of clarity and balance, and everything seemed to come together without force.
Looking back, this piece represents a moment when things felt aligned. Not because everything was perfect, but because I wasn’t resisting the process anymore. I was simply moving with it. And in that space, the work felt alive again.
🌿 Natural Harmonics (Process Reflection)
This piece is built on rhythm and contrast. The flowing lines and layered forms create a sense of movement, while the balance between cool and warm tones brings stability to the composition. The cranes move forward, but without tension — guided rather than pushed.
It reflects a state where creativity isn’t something you chase. It’s something you allow. When the resistance drops, the process becomes lighter, and ideas start to connect naturally.
🧿 Closing
What happens when you stop forcing the process…
and allow things to come together on their own?
and allow things to come together on their own?
Moon Crane no.2 - Oil, Watercolor, Ink on Paper - 29 X 38cm
This piece came as a continuation of the crane series, but it felt different from the start. The colors stayed familiar — the deep blues, the warm gold of the moon, the softness of the magnolias — but the energy shifted. It wasn’t just about movement anymore. It was about finding a place within that movement to pause.
The crane rests on the branch, but it doesn’t feel still. There’s a sense that it could lift at any moment, while also being fully grounded where it is. That dual feeling came naturally as I worked — not something I planned, but something I recognized as it formed. It reflects a state I’ve been exploring more and more: being able to move forward while also being at ease in the present.
Looking at it now, this piece feels like a place to stop and take in what has been created so far. Not to conclude anything, but to acknowledge it. Sometimes growth isn’t about pushing further. It’s about recognizing where you are, and allowing that to be enough for now.
🌿 Natural Harmonics (Process Reflection)
This piece holds a balance between motion and stillness. The crane carries both — a sense of readiness and a sense of rest. The contrast between the deep indigo sky and the glowing moon creates a calm but energized space, while the magnolia branches bring a grounded, organic presence.
It reflects a moment of integration. When different energies don’t cancel each other out, but exist together — movement and stillness, effort and ease. That balance creates a kind of clarity that doesn’t need to be forced.
🧿 Closing
Can you allow yourself to pause…
while still trusting that you’re moving forward?
while still trusting that you’re moving forward?
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The following mythology pieces come from an earlier phase of my life. While they are part of my larger mythological language, they belong to a different story. These works were rooted in the body and the concept of the self. My current mythology has shifted outward — toward environment, community, and the spaces we inhabit together.
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Oil on Wood Panel: 92cm X 61cm
My New York Art Story marks a pivotal transition in my mythology practice. It was here that my work began moving beyond the body and into a dialogue with environment, where architecture, spirit, and energy could be felt as a single field.
New York felt like home in a way no other place had before, even more than Taiwan. While this shift fully unfolded later, after I returned to Asia, this moment stands as an early and essential stepping stone — the first expansion outward that reshaped how mythology would live in my work.
Koi - Oil on Wood
What's in a name? Mine sounds like a fish. As I have always pictured it swimming in between my thoughts, it reflects the light of memories and pushes the dreams along with its tail. Swimming through the silver waters of thoughts, I imagine myself fading in and out of the currents that spiral around its belly.
Feeling the refracted light as it touches my scales, I smile...
Feeling the refracted light as it touches my scales, I smile...
Oil on Wood Panel: 92cm X 61cm
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Water Horse - Oil on Wood
Jumping into the vastness of cobalt and indigo, a sense of fear and happiness surges through me. The stones feel strong underneath my feet while the air punches through my nose. Teasing me to move, challenging me to fly...
Oil on Wood Panel: 92cm X 61cm
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Orpheus - Oil on Paper
Holding light and grabbing at the aether.
Speaking in tongues and gasping for air.
Its all within and all around you.
Look too far ahead and you lose your place.
Your place is here, where it's always been.
Oil on Paper: 96cm X 127cm
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Breath - Oil on Paper
As I drew my morning breath, the air flinched.
Following the stillness. Exhaling my thoughts.
I can see the people all just walking in one direction.
Away from smoke.
Where are you going? Where are we headed?
The answers seem too far to reach.
I walk towards the smoke...
Oil on Paper: 96cm X 127cm
Audrey & Amelyne - Oil on Wood
She sleeps for both of them now. Shoulders moving up and down I can almost hear our daughter laughing with us. Her eyes are closed, as if to dream
of what is to come. I can almost touch our newborn's hands.
of what is to come. I can almost touch our newborn's hands.
As I hold them, glowing in the warm amber sun, we live in life and dream.
Oil on Wood Panel: 92cm X 61cm
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Broome & Broadway - Oil on Wood
It's 2 in the morning and the sky is calm and clear. The streets feel more like my home than my actual apartment, and I like it this way. All I have in my rented room is a blowup mattress and a broken TV. Out here, the empty streets are filled with stories. As I turn the corner from Broome towards Broadway...
Oil on Wood Panel: 92cm X 61cm
A Son's Promise - Oil on Wood
As they gallop, the fierce wind rips through their manes and blasts across their skin. Hearing the roar of the hooves, I reach out my arms to ride the team
across the sky. As powerful as the waves in Waimea, yet we never break.
Just the continued sensation of rush, speed and light.
across the sky. As powerful as the waves in Waimea, yet we never break.
Just the continued sensation of rush, speed and light.
Oil on Wood Panel: 92cm X 61cm
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The Woolworth - Oil on Wood
The day has finally arrived. The building has been standing patiently day after day, year after year, for the seal to open. As the first morning sun falls on its eastern facade, its Gothic columns flexed and torqued. As it slowly emerges out of its former shell of concrete and steel, the morning commuters
who have walked the same path daily without even a second glance,
paused for the first time. Looking up, feeling its presence.
who have walked the same path daily without even a second glance,
paused for the first time. Looking up, feeling its presence.
Something was different...
Oil on Wood Panel: 92cm X 61cm