Year: 2025

Medium: Acrylic on canvas

Size: 22” x 16”

Sometimes, the air is so clear that you can see the smallest island, the furthest fishing boat, the youngest trees. Sometimes, black night melts sea and sky, leaving distant city lights to flicker like a candle. Sometimes, wind and mist and thunder churn water, blur the land. Sometimes, birds soar high and glide low. Sometimes, squid boats wink like stars.

Last year, I left Hong Kong to study abroad. I missed the light and concrete of the city. I missed my family and friends. I missed my home. I yearned to reconnect with the familiar sights that shaped my childhood and earliest memories. 

When I came back this summer, I painted the same view of my bedroom window but at different times of day and with different weather conditions. The view features the beach as the foreground and the opposite shore and mountains in darker tones with the sky and the ocean both kept light. Then ripping the paintings apart, I created a collage to simultaneously show an image of Hong Kong’s nature but also resemble a more modern, industrial Hong Kong skyline. 

The ripped pieces of the painting reflect the way I had to uproot myself from my old home. Through the overall absence of color, the timeless view that paints the backdrop of my youth evokes the sense of a hazy nostalgia as well as the sadness and solitude I feel when I’m abroad. The subtle pops of yellow, then, encapsulate the bittersweet dance of my overwhelming love and gratitude towards Hong Kong, while trying to find home in a new place.