This body of work recounts a myth based on the very real experiences of my family since 1923. It begins with my grandfather, who killed three people because he mistakenly thought they were reactionaries. The work describes the special moments/occasions I experienced and/or imagined, as well as the struggle for my own identity, class, and fear of confrontation. This investigation is a correlation between political vicissitudes and personal fate, and its aftermath in the timeframe of modern-day China (1930 to present). The work also takes a close look at the generations of people who did their best to live through a surging tide of historical progression in an arbitrary regime. Various individuals speak for the moral code of each era. They are prudent, anti-critical (on the surface), moving forward slowly while working diligently. They are liberals who protect their processions, but they worship their own “God.” Obedience to absolute authority is their principle creed. They are beneficiaries of noneconomic “incentives,” namely, better housing, better food, opportunities for travel, education, and medical treatment—even higher standards for funerals. Yet, they are extremely anxious about their family structure being destroyed because of unforeseeable exertions of power. Determining how to live “properly,” meaning how to act, how to quietly exist in spite of that dominant power’s constantly changing consciousness and moral standards—this is the only rescue for generations of people hoping to preserve themselves among the political vicissitudes. They are struggling in a state of permanent fear, insecurity, and distrust. One’s personal fate and private assets become the results of genetic upbringing and chance. Thus, human nature has undergone manifold revolutions over these phases of history—persistent but perplexing, self-sufficient but overly cautious.

Reference-

The Captive Mind Czesław Miłosz

The Road to Serfdom F.A. Hayek

Myth

“To escape, they built a ship and accidentally buried human bones in the oars. It was a secret. It was not an indescribable boat, but it was strong enough to reeve the erratic winds and waves. They preserved the eggs in the moon palace they built on the ship. Eggs germinated and produced more eggs. Every egg has a warm nest where they grow and wait to decrease. The secret was buried with the first generation’s death. That day, the ship was surrounded by many monks, layers by layers, carried by the east wind and they sang for a day with no stop. The second generation picked up the oars and kept sailing along. They did not know whether the front was a vortex, land or endless sea with the roaring waves. The waves became higher, fortunately enough, their eggs were still there, breathing and continue to breed the fourth generation.”

the night, Drawing on Glclee Print, Acrylic Frame, 40x30in., 2019

 the funeral, Drawing on Glclee Print, Acrylic Frame, 30x40in., 2018

the house, Drawing on Glclee Print, Acrylic Frame, 30x40in., 2019

the tree, Drawing on Glclee Print, Acrylic Frame, 30x40in., 2019

the boat, Drawing on Glclee Print, Acrylic Frame, 32x32in., 2019

the dinner, Drawing on Glclee Print, Acrylic Frame, 30x40in., 2019