Hi there! I'm an artist and poet making
artist's books / zines, comics, and illustrations :)

about the artist

artist's books + zines

Here; (is the only place) (2025)

2 x 10.5” (closed), 16.5 x 10.5” (fully open), 1.4 x 16.5” (pop-out accordion)
Accordion fold zine. Risograph-printed, ink and coloured pencil illustrations and poetry.

Here; (is the only place) features riso-printed ink illustrations and poems. The book connects childhood grief with climate grief through their shared experience of losing home and being swept into a future that threatens unbelonging. Depending on how the book is held, the openings cut into the pages become doorways to frame the past (pages) or only empty space— regardless, something has disappeared.

There Are Good Things Yet To Bury (2024)

7.5 x 9"
84 page case-bound book. Photography and poetry.

There Are Good Things Yet To Bury features photos of community gardens and poems on climate grief, gardening, and the purpose of hope. Physically cut into many of the pages are windows, enabling fragments of images and text on the previous and following pages to be reactivated and recontextualized. The book reflects on how gardens nurture during crises, and the futures that hope can bring us.

A LIST OF THINGS I CAN'T REMEMBER (2024)

6.5 x 6.4"
23 page case bound book and handmade pastepaper. Papercut art and poetry.

The “list” includes things of the mundane, humorous, and heavy. At its core, this book asks what exactly is worth trying to hold onto in your memory. Whether because of its trivial or traumatizing nature, is it ever better to forget?

Last Name (2023)

4.5 x 7”
25 page saddle-stitched book. 4-colour risograph cover, laser printed pages. Digital illustration and poetry.
Documentation photos taken by Ashley Cheng (IG: @0922s9) and edited by me.

Last name is an illustrated poem about identity and not knowing what you inherit from blood. The zine centres around a multi-linguistic metaphor, where the disconnect of what “last name” means in Chinese and English represents the disconnect in culture, language, and family (in Chinese, the surname comes first, not last). The comic panels waver, then shatter as these two cultural realities simultaneously overlap and break apart.

Sunlight is moonlight (2023)

5.25 x 5”
Photography and poetry. Coptic bound book, 39 pages.

Sunlight is moonlight encompasses feelings of inadequacy, self-consciousness, and the unattainable expectations surrounding toxic productivity within capitalistic systems. As the book desperately tries to chase the moon and its beauty, it reflects the tragedies of not being able to live in the moment and the compulsion towards infinite growth. The solution capitalism gives for greed is to take even more. As the poem on page 31 cries: “and one day, just to see my moon glow again, i will steal the sun”.

I sight freeze (2023)

5.5” x 5” x 2”
Translucent sheets of paper and plastic, black ink pen, gift box, and poetry. Box book, 54 pages.

A third of the unbound pages in I sight freeze contain poems on the third, lesser known anxiety response: freeze. Other pages are blank, leaving one searching through blankness for the next poem. This work is about my personal experience of how my anxiety manifests, and the visual metaphors of mental cloudiness and dissociation are conveyed through the pages and cut-out stars’ varying levels of translucency. The poems in I sight freeze delve into the anxiety of drawing a blank, feeling an absence of identity, and the fear of death. It is about empty spaces and feeling like you are nothing at all in a way that is dishearteningly neutral and quiet.

2 dreams about disaster (2022)

4” x 5” closed. Around 60” long when fully extended.
37 page accordion book. Watercolour and poetry.

The two dreams that inspired this piece, in retrospect, mirror each other. Both about disasters on the beach, one from the sky, one from the sea, housing my fears about climate change, the COVID-19 pandemic, unstable futures, and where to find hope.

Being Illuminated (2024)

2-colour risograph zine + poster. Digitally ilustrated.
Poem written by Aaron Friend Lettner.

Made for Aaron Friend Lettner's photographic tarot card deck, The Book of Light.

all over (2023)

2-colour risograph printed on cream and white paper, illustration. 'One-page' zine, 6 pages.

A comic about what comes after death, and the comfort of good company.

comics

illustration

NOT USED photography

a life(,) you know(?) (2022)

13.5” x 9.2” Digital photography series of 20

A series dedicated to intimacy. Found in community gardens, golden light, and human beings.

of yellow soap and whiteness (2019)

Digital photography series of 13

Inspired by a quote from The Lover by Marguerite Duras: “the delicious smell of wet earth after a storm, enough to make you wild with delight, especially when it’s mixed with the other, the smell of yellow soap […] of whiteness” (61). It’s about a relationship that takes too much, until it ends and the memory of it is attempted to be scrubbed clean. Everything is washed off but the scent still lingers.

Space out of Time (2022)

Digital photography series of 10

Space out of Time is about documenting time that passes without your notice. Spacing out, losing awareness, liminal spaces, compacted into an image through long exposure photography.

Unwanted (2020)

Digital photography series of 13

Unwanted explores the often arbitrary nature of classifying a plant as a "weed". Weeds are subjective; by definition, they are just plants one does not want somewhere. Using static and blurring effects to distort the images, I’ve drawn more attention to the rebelliousness, resilience, and persistence of these plants.

War-torn (2019)

Digital photography series of 15

War-torn is about grieving places, trees, and animals that disappear devastatingly quickly.

Analogue photography

Black and white / colour film

Analogue photography work from 2021 - 2022.

Hazelnuts grow on trees (2022)

2.5 x 17 x 22 cm
31 page case-bound book. Photography, gathered plant material (hazelnut shells, cedar bark, corn husks), and poetry.

This book is about my childhood experience picking nuts and berries and realizing that while I now expect all my food to be from stores, I still subconsciously believed that hazelnuts only grew on trees. A bitter awakening to the world I’ve been living in.