I look to the richness of my cultural history, the natural world, and those who have passed away as resources in constructing worlds. The worlds I create aim to acknowledge these ever-present resources while imagining futures full of healing. In my artwork I draw from the narratives, traumas, and gifts of being mixed-race: Malaysian-Chinese, Peranakan, and white. My visual imagery is full of references to batik, a wax-resist dyed fabric often worn in the form of a sarong (wrap skirt). The history and processes involved in batik are a cornerstone to my practice as I reimagine and reclaim the natural and patterned landscapes of my cultural heritage. Often, these reclamations involve inserting root systems and fruit of plants into traditionally derived batik patterns to speak to intergenerational and transcontinental connections. One of the main plants that repeatedly shows up in my fabricated batik language is okra. Okra, a member of the same family as hibiscus, has beautiful flowers that fit naturally into the floral history of batik and serves as a way to honor my maternal grandmother and great-grandmother who were sharecroppers in South Carolina, as okra was one of the crops they would grow for themselves in their garden while laboring in the fields on others farms. Using this visual language, I weave a multitude of materials through my work to consider the layers inherent in connection. Materiality lends itself to complexity, strengthening the bonds between that which seems diametrically opposed: soft fiber and hard ceramic, plastic and natural, to remind us that there is richness and beauty in that which is perceived as other.


Fibers are my collaborators, putting me in constant relationship to nature, to ‘aina. As a Malaysian-Chinese artist living in the kingdom of Hawai’i, plants are a constant reminder of connection across the Pacific. Whether seeds traveled by bird, wind, canoe, container, or plane they have ended up here, on this island with me. Wauke, otherwise known as paper mulberry, traveled vast distances across the Pacific from Asia, constantly being cultivated for the use of barkcloth. This practice, known as kapa in Hawai’i, is almost completely lost in Malaysia. Kapa is the living, breathing heart of my community in Hawai’i. It is a way to constantly be reminded of how connected craft is to culture and the past as a living present, that there is no linear way of expressing culture or continuing to steward and imagine its future. As an artist I see my role as stewarding the forward movement and expansion of craft to reinforce the connection between communities and our shared relationship to our natural world. Combining materials and batik inspired patterns and processes with this practice of kapa allows me not only to acknowledge the connective tissues between the cultures of my identity, but also to imagine what barkcloth could and can be in Malaysia again. Diaspora is this spreading of people as seeds, learning to root and grow in the new environments provided. Sometimes this can give us new contexts, and bring new life to our cultural traditions; out of the cracks of displacement grows something our ancestors could only have dreamed of. We aren’t just making do with what's around us, but making something new- hybrid, and deepening our connection to all homes and those who have come before us.


Mahalo nui loa to my kupuna and kumu Roen Hufford.