Under the Tiffany Dome

Stoked to announce that LAMINATOR Vol. 1 will also be available for purchase in Buddy, the 2,500 sq. ft. shop inside the Chicago Cultural Center! (Dropped off 10 copies in the store on Monday. The staff told me they’ll be on display in about a week!) Thank you to Buddy for inviting me to be a vendor!

And thank you, as always, to the 68 artists, poets, and writers from all over Chicago, the country, and the world whose wonderful work is published in this volume, and to everyone who’s already bought it! So far, 80 have been sold!

Make a lovely little day of it in the Loop: Visit the beloved (and newly reopened!) Bean, then hop across Michigan Avenue from Millennium Park and pop into the beautiful local gem that is The People’s Palace and pick up a zine!

It’ll cost more there, but since there’s no shipping, the total comes out to be about the same.

Otherwise, you can order online here!

I’m also delighted to share that I’m one of the Urban Photo Awards 2024 Selected Photographers! And they received a record number of 17,000 submissions! Here’s my page in the competition’s gallery, featuring my photo of Shenzhen’s Zhongshuge bookstore, shot on my iPhone 12 Pro.

Almost forgot about this one since it was announced while I was traveling for the first time since The Before Times: Shot on my iPhone 5s in 2015, my photo One Step at a Time has been awarded an Honorable Mention in the 13th Annual Mobile Photography Awards in the Silhouettes category! This is my third year in a row being selected by MPA and Urban. Thank you and congrats to everyone!

(My photo: A candid of a stranger walking down the spiral staircase in the Morton Wing of the Art Institute of Chicago.) View more of my iPhone 5s photography here.

And some fun stuff since our last catchup:

• As I mentioned, I traveled (and found that I was a little rusty since it had been so long): Hong Kong and Shenzhen for family and art, New York City for friends and art, and, as you’ll see below, another impromptu trip for family (and [I managed to squeeze some] art [in]). I micro-blogged about my trips on my socials; check out the photos, stories, mini history lessons, cultural highlights and recommendations, and more that I’ve posted on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter (like the Sears Tower and Marshall Field’s, I will never call it by its other name), LinkedIn, Tumblr, Threads, and Mastodon.
• I cannot believe I saw the northern lights in the Chicago suburbs. My mom and I were literally hoopin’ and hollerin’. Crossing seeing the aurora borealis off the bucket list, and all we had to do was go to the park across the street!
• Singling out this travel highlight: A few weeks ago I went to Las Vegas for the first time as an adult (first and last time I was ten and it was winter and I rode my first rollercoaster outside the MGM Grand) because my parents renewed their vows for their 40th wedding anniversary with an Elvis impersonator!(!) It was my Dad’s idea, and I’m glad I went because it rocked. Read more about the experience and view our group picture here. (Yes I’m wearing a Starry Night Over the Rhône by Vincent van Gogh dress.)

Dusting Off the Suitcase

Here’s a type of announcement I haven’t made in a long while: I’m traveling to Hong Kong today! (Thank you, as usual, to Art Basel and Art Central for the VIP program invitations.)

It’ll be my first time traveling since before the pandemic (my last trip was over four years ago, to Buenos Aires and the Patagonia region of Argentina and Chile, which I wrote about in the early 2020 blog post “Alegría”), making this the longest I’ve gone my entire life without traveling (yes, including when I was little—my About page has always included “globe-trotting polyglot” among my many distinctions, after all).

And it’ll be my first time back in the Fragrant Harbour in five years, since March 2019:

Some of my iPhone 5s* photos from that trip.
*(Except for that narrow selfie my cousin took on his phone.)

(In the above collage: the top left photo is from my blog post “‘Life’s too short for sad art’ // A preview of HKwalls 2019”; the top right is from my honed-from-years-of-experience guide “How to make the most of Hong Kong’s Art Gallery Night // or, Art Basel Hasn’t Even Started Yet and My Legs Are Already Tired”; the second row left is of self-taught artist Fung Ming Chip and his partner Yim Tom, both of whom I’d met the previous year and whose studio visit was a highlight; the entire third row is from Take Your Cousin to Work Day the morning my maternal cousin Philip Ng, a martial artist and actor, brought me to TVB; and the middle photo in the fourth row is of my late paternal grandma on the evening I finally got to visit her home in the Pak Tin public housing estate.)

Long-time followers of this blog will remember that I took solo trips to Hong Kong every year from 2012-2019 (and in 2017 my mom tagged along to record her Cantonese opera album!).

This will also be my first time back after my paternal grandmother’s passing from pancreatic cancer (I wrote about her and my maternal grandmother, who raised me and is ten years older than the former and still with us but has dementia, in my November 2020 blog post “A Tale of Two Grandmothers // On Memory”); it’s going to be strange being there and not being able to ramble around country parks with her like I used to, or try to figure out how to rearrange the contents of my hotel’s mini fridge in order to fit all the apples she always greeted me at the airport with, or sit next to her at the banquet-style family dinner we’d have with everyone and get food for her first before getting mine, internally reveling in being able to step into my role as the mature, eldest cousin on my dad’s side (a role I don’t often get to play since I’m one of the youngest cousins on my mom’s side). But also, I’m a different person than I was in 2012 when I was a whippersnapper and had no idea what I was doing (not that I think I know what I’m doing now), and it was like my Hong Kong uncles and grandma were making sure this kid traveling on her own was looked after.

My Facebook status at the end of my first full day alone in Hong Kong, 2012.

It’s the kind of change that comes with growing up, isn’t it?

Anyway, I’m looking forward to it, especially since so many new things have popped up in Hong Kong over the years I’ve been away. And since I’ll also be visiting Shenzhen for the first time in a decade!

While I’m overseas, you can: follow along on my socials; view my artwork currently on display in the exhibition Click at The Art Center Highland Park; reserve a copy of LAMINATOR Vol. 1, my brand new zine featuring 68 artists, poets, and writers from around the world (also available in the gift shop of the aforementioned art center while supplies last) (I mailed all pre-orders last week and it’s been so exciting to see folks receive and post about their zines these past couple days!); and collect art from a few of the artists in said publication.

Lastly, some miscellany:

On Threads and Mastodon.

• And these were my two thoughts while watching this year’s Oscars—very different from last year’s ceremony.

See you on April 2, Chicago!

Lens Craft

It’s not the tool; it’s the artist. From 2014–2021, I captured photos around the world using only my iPhone 5s. (And before I finally joined you all in the 21st Century and got the aforementioned phone, I had been using a point-and-shoot.) You don’t need fancy equipment—not even a tripod—to take beautiful photos.

Look up. Chicago 2015.

I’m also nothing if not stubborn, planned obsolescence be damned. It took until last week—right after Apple rolled out iOS 14.5 for newer phones and my 5s crashed whenever I tried to open my Instagram—for me to finally retire my beloved 5s. RIP, Jenny’s first smartphone, March 17, 2014 – April 28, 2021.

Goodnight, sweet prince.

Now, for the first time, these photos can be viewed in one place. (I’d been sharing them on channels such as Instagram, but not everyone is on social media, and on those platforms I also share old non-phone photos as throwbacks, as well as non-photographic artwork, so viewers would have to scroll through years of images.) I’ve launched a new online gallery exclusively for my iPhone 5s photos, from El Fin del Mundo at the southernmost tip of South America to the towering sand dunes of the Taklamakan Desert along the ancient Silk Road in Western China, from crackling glaciers and floating markets to quiet moments of everyday beauty in my hometown.

View the new photo gallery here.

(And, if one individual’s phone photos aren’t your cup of tea, head over to the previous post for the announcement about DECAHEDRON, which features over 70(!) local and international artists working across all mediums.)

Alegría

First: I am so happy to announce that, for the third year in a row, I’ve been chosen to exhibit my artwork at the Chicago Public Library during May to celebrate Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month! This year, I’ll be in my own neighborhood’s branch: Logan Square! Thank you, CPL!

Parque Nacional Torres del Paine, Patagonia, Chile.

Second: I know I haven’t been updating this blog much lately, and that’s an understatement [she says as she sheepishly looks at the post numbers by year in the Archive sidebar]. (Like, my last real post was a contextless but wistful one about my college reunion.) So I’ll simply bring you up to speed with my most recent adventure.

Last month, my parents and I traveled to Patagonia, where we rang in the new year. Going there was on my personal bucket list, which people have been asking me about since 2008 because of Dreams of a City, and I’m usually cagey with my answers, but now you know one of them.

Patagonia was, without a doubt, one of the best trips we’ve ever had. My mom said it was on the same level as when we went to Egypt (coincidentally, the same year I started my aforementioned mapping project), and my dad said—while we were standing in the above spot in Torres del Paine—that out of all the places we’ve been to, Patagonia is the most beautiful. I’m inclined to agree.

San Carlos de Bariloche, Patagonia, Argentina. First full day of our trip.

Yet even more than the grandeur of the landscapes and wonder of being in such wilderness was the beauty in the human connections. Music, passion, dancing in the heat, late nights overflowing with wine. Beautiful souls, rollicking laughter, finding that most things—and not just the age-old human desire to be near mountains and bodies of water—are universal. It’s summer in the southern hemisphere and all of it was the epitome of summer’s bittersweetness, fervent and fleeting. “Only connect,” that literary-reference-learned-as-a-teenager-turned-tenet-in-adulthood, comes to me again, and it couldn’t be more suited for a space where it’s a reflex to pass your mate to all your friends old and new and everyone drinks out of the same metal straw, and I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect way to enter a brand-new decade.

Volcan Orsono, Los Lagos, Patagonia, Chile.
The ferry (one of many when crossing the Argentina-Chile border)
turning a bend and revealing this was unreal. New Year's Day.

(Even the imperfect was perfect. Like that time one of the many buses we’d take for the Argentina-Chile border crossing broke down before it reached us so we waited in the shade around a replica of Che Guevara’s La Poderosa II. Or that other time the trailer carrying our luggage broke and we bonded while stranded for four hours at a rest stop in Villa Tehuelches and then in our [absolutely lovely and lovable and hardworking and total sweetheart of a 23-year-old Argentine tour] guide Esteban’s hurry to finally leave… left behind Sonja from Vienna at said rest stop and didn’t realize it until the bus was already minutes away while driving at full speed. (We made a frantic U-turn to get her back.) It was straight out of a movie; it had us cackling and clapping; it was glorious.)

The mighty Glaciar Perito Moreno, Parque Nacional Los Glaciares,
Patagonia, Argentina. This is the third largest ice field in the world
(the first and second are in Antarctica and Greenland). 

I loved it all, and I already miss Argentina and Chile dearly. (I missed them as soon as our plane took off from Buenos Aires and my mom said “goodbye, Argentina” and then I whispered it and felt a swell of sadness, but still.) Naturally, I took a ton of photos (and yes, still with my little 5s) and have shared a few of them (33 photos/photosets) on Instagram. They’re also organized on my Tumblr with tags for Patagonia and Buenos Aires. (And if you enjoy scrolling, they’re also on Twitter and Facebook.)

Life is art; paint it with the world.

Mt. Tronador right after crossing the border from
Argentina's Parque Nacional Nahuel Huapi to
Chile's Parque Nacional Vicente Perez Morales. Patagonia. New Year's Day.

Happy 2020!

Candid of my parents taking it all in.
Parque Nacional Torres del Paine, Patagonia, Chile.

P.S. In case you missed the previous post, the call for artists for my next group show is up!

And I’m here to remind you

Reunion 2019, Columbia University in the City of New York.

As the Starlight Celebration went on into the night and all milestone reunion years (every 5 years all the way up to ’49) danced under the benevolent gaze of Alma Mater, right after I took the photo above and descended from Low I found myself sitting on the Steps with my good friend Andrew (who, until reunion, I last hung out with 7 years ago in Beijing) and had a deep conversation about—literally—our mortality; love; loss; longing to leave a legacy and pass on our stories; how we’ve reached an age where we’ve made certain decisions we can’t ever come back from and must make peace with that; Andrew saying the question he asks himself now is “What do I want to get out of life?”, which I know will stick with me; how we don’t want certain feelings to ever fade away… all the good stuff, and it was so Columbia, and I loved it, and I love my friends I made here so much. He and I talked about how we don’t remember too much about what we learned in class (well for me I did internalize everything I learned freshman year, which is when I knocked out most of the Core, but after that… yeah sorry Columbia), but to us this place has always been and always will be about the people.

Honey, I'm home.
Columbia University, my 10-year reunion.

At my 5-year reunion it felt like I never left, like I had just come back from a long summer break. At 10 years though, enough time has passed to make it seem very, very strange. It’s all so familiar, yet—as I told Andrew—it feels dreamlike. Columbia, post-graduation, has always had a dreamlike quality to me, but when I wandered around campus that night I felt like a ghost. Like I was looking at everything through incorrect prescription contact lenses (which is highly probable). I lived here in another lifetime, something I did notice years back.

Who else from Columbia remembers the school-only
Facebook group from 2005 called "I had a crush on
Alexander Hamilton" because I did when I was 16.

And the next morning my throat was sore from scream-singing (while intermittently raising my wine cup) along to “You Oughta Know” which was inexplicably the last song the live band played.

"In lumine Tuo videbimus lumen."
Columbia Reunion during the Starlight Celebration portion of the night.

(But then there’s something so perfect about a crowd of dressed up Columbia alumni singing Alanis Morissette at the tops of our lungs at midnight.)

Using Riverside Church as a guide, spot Columbia, turquoise copper roof
Lego block oasis. Goodbye again. Miss all you nerds already.

How to make the most of Hong Kong’s Art Gallery Night // or, Art Basel Hasn't Even Started Yet and My Legs Are Already Tired

Guys, I did it. I managed to attend 14 opening receptions within 2 hours* at Hong Kong’s Art Gallery Night tonight. And I was handed champagne at almost each one. And my last two stops required me hiking up a mountain (not really but it was uphill and that’s hard as a Midwesterner OK). *(Might I suggest that not every Hong Kong gallery host their event from 6-8pm on the same night?)

Leonardo Drew at Pearl Lam Galleries (no relation).
Hong Kong's Art Gallery Night 2019.

My expert-level (half-kidding… but seriously) route that I recommend to anyone who’d want to see the highest concentration of high quality art within a limited amount a time (and, suffice it to say, the pictured pieces and linked exhibitions are my highlights / picks if you can only view a few):

If you’re taking public transit, exit at the Central MTR station. Arrive a little early and walk into the luxurious Landmark, where there’s always an art installation suspended from the ceiling. Once it’s time, start your gallery-hopping next door at the Pedder Building, which I’ve been visiting every single year I’ve been doing my annual Art Basel Hong Kong trip. Take the elevator to the top floor and work your way down via the stairs. This year’s Hong Kong Art Week / Hong Kong Arts Month, you’ll hit Leonardo Drew at Pearl Lam Galleries (no relation) on the sixth floor; What’s Up/Hong Kong on the fifth; Yeh Shih-Chiang: Edge of Sea and Sky at Hanart TZ Gallery (I always love coming here for Chinese art) and Edwin Wurm at Lehmann Maupin on the fourth; Overheated at Massimo De Carlo, Yoan Capote at Ben Brown Fine Arts, and Heimo Zobernig at Simon Lee Gallery on the third.

Vibing out to music at Yeh Shih-Chiang's Edge of Sea and Sky
at Hanart TZ Gallery. Hong Kong's Art Gallery Night 2019.

Then, walk west on Queen’s Road and go to H Queen’s, which was a new destination last year. Again, take the elevator to the highest floor that has art and work your way down. This year, you’ll hit Zhang Yanzi: Seclusion at Ora-Ora on the seventeenth floor, Louise Bourgeois at Hauser & Wirth on the sixteenth and fifteenth, Mary Course at Pace Gallery on the twelfth, Unlock at Tang Contemporary Art on the tenth, Zhou Yangming: Continuum at Pearl Lam Galleries (yes, they have a second location here) on the ninth, and Miwa Komatsu: Divine Spirit at Whitestone Gallery on the eighth and seventh.

Stomping down seventeen flights in a stairwell can get tedious (as well as dizzying); good thing there’s a “site-specific public art experience” throughout the stairwell called Exit Strategies. (Fun fact: When I was 18 at Columbia, I built a 12-ft.-tall site-specific sculpture in what I thought was an abandoned stairwell and the grad students filed a complaint about it/me to OSHA. (Yes, that’s what that line refers to in my “About” page.) Thank goodness for my professor Lisi Raskin who had my back. Eventually, I destroyed my sculpture as part of my project. The transience of art! My piece was called Asymptote and remains one of the craziest and greatest things I’ve done, to be honest.)

HOCA Foundation | KAWS: Along the Way at PMQ.
Hong Kong's Art Gallery Night 2019.

For the third and final leg, walk west and up all those steps that plague I mean characterize Sheung Wan to get to the Hollywood Road gallery area. I went for KAWS: Along the Way presented by HOCA Foundation at PMQ and Okuda: Digital Zoo at La Galerie – Paris 1839.

Okuda: Digital Zoo at La Galerie - Paris 1839.
Hong Kong's Art Gallery Night 2019.

Of course, there are galleries you’ll be skipping, but you can’t see everything in two hours. (Before H Queen’s existed, after the Pedder Building, I’d also visit the galleries around Ice House Street as well as attempt to see White Cube and others on Connaught Road.)

Note that I’m not factoring in any time for socializing—I purely viewed the art—so your mileage may vary. (I did, however, run into the HKwalls folks at the Okuda show.)

Lastly, this goes without saying for me (since I’m always in sneakers) but might not be as obvious to everyone else: Wear comfortable shoes.

And that’s the first night of Hong Kong Art Week! See you at the fairs!

“Life’s too short for sad art” // A preview of HKwalls 2019

(As you know from my previous post, I’m in Hong Kong for Art Basel right now. Hello from the true city that never sleeps! Upon my arrival last night, I had a late dinner with my paternal grandma and uncles at nearly 10pm on a weeknight in a food court in Mongkok, Kowloon, and it was still packed. I love it.)

I write this with multiple cocktails* in my system. *(Went with my old favorite: Old-Fashioneds. Thank you to HKwalls for treating us!) Today I had the pleasure of attending the HKwalls Media Preview, in which I, well, previewed the 2019 edition of Hong Kong’s annual street art festival, which has impressively expanded this year to include a multi-floor alternative art space called The Clubhouse—renovated from a traditional tong lau, which had previously fallen into disrepair, to be an inclusive venue where people can view art, make art, and hang out—as well as many other public interactive (also my favorite) art activities that will take place this week; got a [hot and humid (not that I’m complaining considering the brutal winter we had in the Midwest)] guided tour of all the art to come throughout the Wan Chai neighborhood, where the festival will be held this year; and, alongside the participating street artists, was treated to a sit-down family-style dinner (which none of us anticipated, going, “I didn’t know we were getting a full meal…”) and drinks at an Italian American restaurant (said one of the artists to me, “It’s not like there’s any pizza or Italians in Chicago…”).

Waiting on the 3rd floor of The Clubhouse before the HKwalls 2019
Media Preview. Wan Chai, Hong Kong.

In The Clubhouse, we watched artist talks and demonstrations, including a hands-on encaustic painting workshop by Elizabeth Briel, who uses local beeswax. You all know how much I love data and mapping, so Elizabeth’s mention of a project of hers caught my attention; she has encaustic pieces of photos she took all over Hong Kong, each a square foot in size, and she’s selling each one for the same price of real estate per sq. ft. in the corresponding location where she took each picture.

Elizabeth Briel's encaustic workshop, HKwalls 2019 Media Preview
at The Clubhouse. Wan Chai, Hong Kong.

(She herself lives in a 150 sq. ft. apartment in Sham Shui Po, Kowloon. Honestly, though? Despite the size—and despite my admitted initial reaction of “That’s crazy!”—it sounds nice; it’s a rounded building, and her outer wall is all windows. To compare, my dad and his brothers grew up in the famed Shek Kip Mei public housing projects, where multiple families resided in 120 sq. ft. concrete units, with the only window in each one looking out onto a narrow corridor. Like I said in that classic blog post I just linked to, however, they were happy. And now I truly digress.)

Erig Ng, HKwalls 2019 Media Preview at The Clubhouse.
Wan Chai, Hong Kong.

Another talk by artist Eric Ng involved a fun and wholesome little skit featuring “Mr. Bean.” In keeping with all that’s good and pure, around the corner outside, San Francisco-based street artist fnnch was spray-painting one of his Honey Bears. “Honey bears make me happy,” he explained. “Life’s too short for sad art.”

fnnch, HKwalls 2019. Wan Chai, Hong Kong.

Over 30 street artists will be creating colorful murals for the festival this week. One piece that’s already been completed is INSA’s “gif-iti” mural; if you download his app and view his piece through it, the image moves!

INSA, HKwalls 2019. Wan Chai, Hong Kong.

Towards the end of the dinner and drinks, since I happen to be wearing my Logan Square Blue Line CTA station t-shirt and carrying my Block Club Chicago Founding Member tote bag (hey, being Chicagoan and proud is a thing, man), fnnch caught me by surprise when he turned to me and went, “So, Chicago!” and proceeded to tell me he knows Logan and chatted with me about the Chicago places where he’s painted murals. (It’s always wild and beautiful and wild to talk about ­­­the familiarity of home out of context halfway around the world.) I learned something today; apparently, San Francisco doesn’t really have a street art scene (particularly of the under-40 generation), which is good news for fnnch and, like, his four peers so they’ve pretty much monopolized that area. (And that was a tangent about being an artist in San Francisco.)

HKwalls officially begins tomorrow (March 23), with an opening party at The Clubhouse (6 Steward Rd.). Check their website for a mural map, a schedule of events such as workshops, and more. Everything is free and open to the public.

Equinox

Happy first day of spring! I’m going on my annual Hong Kong trip for Art Basel today! (Thank you, as always, to Basel, Art Central, Asia Contemporary Art Show, et al. for the VIP program invitations!) Feel free to follow along on Twitter and Instagram for live updates and photos of my travels. Anticipate a blog post or two as well. (One of my highlights from last year? A studio visit with self-taught artist Fung Ming Chip.)

To celebrate the season: The dyed green Chicago River in 2018.

Until I’m back on April 3, you can: Apply to Line Dot Editions’ 3rd Annual Open Call Group Show (I’m one of the guest judges); look forward to my upcoming exhibit at the Chicago Public Library during May in celebration of Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month; and vote in the Chicago mayoral runoff election before (like I did) or on April 2. Be a part of history!

“I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide” [hopefully]

Specifically, a #BlueWave.

(Yes, the title’s another Gandalf quote, although this wording is from The Two Towers film instead of the book. Consider it a callback to this Fellowship of the Ring one—my favorite—from my first post- Election 2016 blog post, which I’ve been revisiting a lot lately.)

I’d like to apologize yet again for the lack of posts here. But I’m back. Only to be gone again, oops (more on that later). And, my fellow Americans, I’m telling you:

#VoteThemOut #SwingLeft #TakeBackTheHouse #Resist

Vote! I voted early a couple weeks ago, like I did in ‘16. (For the Chicagoans reading this, the folks working at the Loop Super Site were super friendly and helpful.) These midterm elections are crucial. My 10-year-old self at the Illinois State Capitol is roaring through the fabric of space and time to encourage you. And, in addition to my favorite quote linked above, I’ve been reminding myself of these words of wisdom from Angela Davis, which I’d included in my 2016 review, “Hope.”

And to serve as even more motivation, here’s another relic from 2016: my episode of Transition to Power, a political documentary by On the Real Film about the presidential election through artists’ eyes.

As for what I’ve been up to (and—more importantly—all the art I’ve experienced and seen, from my highlights and picks to my… strong opinions [and exposés] on other things) between now and the previous post (from July, I know!), I’m afraid you’ll have to scroll through my social media: Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, etc. My photo captions tend to be long by those formats’ standards but serve as micro blog posts in a way; read them!

And what I meant by leaving again: I’m flying out of the country today; after a pit stop in Hong Kong to visit my dad’s side of the family, I’ll be traveling in Taiwan for the first time! (It’s hard to believe that the Silk Road in Western China was a year ago.) See you later, America; make it so that I return to good news and a better you!

Wordplay: An Artist Studio Visit with Fung Ming Chip

A week ago while I was in Hong Kong, I spent a lovely morning visiting the Sai Ying Pun studio of self-taught artist Fung Ming Chip, whose work has been included in collections at the Met and LACMA.

Fung Ming Chip in his studio (also his and Yim Tom's
home) showing me and fellow Chicagoan Inez Suen
his calligraphic artwork.

Thank you again, Ming and Yim, for welcoming me into your home, for your hospitality (tea, food, hugs), and—Ming—for waking up hours before you normally do to meet me (he usually gets up after noon—hashtag artist life).

Ming deconstructs Chinese calligraphy and pushes the medium in directions I never thought possible. With all the layers and depth, his pieces are “unphotographable,” and that need to see them in person is kind of the distinction between East vs. West; there’s an intimacy with traditional Chinese art in general, and before you open a scroll you don’t know what you’re about to find—you’re in for a surprise each time.

Also… Ming doesn’t have a website or anything, so you really do have to see his work in person!

Ming is also a photographer and showed us Polaroids he took back in the day.

If you’d like to reach Ming, get in touch with Yim Tom. She’s the wonderful woman I met at the Art Basel VIP Private View—in the Collectors Lounge someone called my name and it was a Chicago friend, Inez Suen, and Inez was there with Yim—and was the one from whom I learned “about how British colonial rule deliberately suppressed the development of culture and national identity in Hong Kong” (one of my “truth bombs” in my caption for this photo of me on Instagram and Facebook). And she and Ming are married, and they’re the perfect pair.

Vernal

It’s spring, and you know what that means: I’m traveling to Hong Kong today! (Thank you, once again, to Art Basel, Asia Contemporary Art Show, et al. for the VIP program invites!) If you aren’t following me on Instagram and Twitter already, now’s the time to start; I’ll be sharing live updates and photos throughout my trip. (Also, SUE the T. rex—everyone’s favorite large murderbird—follows me [and occasionally replies to completely non-science-related thoughts of mine], a fact that brings me great joy every time I suddenly remember it. So yes, be like SUE.) (Granted, the likes of Ai Weiwei and Beck follow me too, but SUE’s the biggest celebrity here to my former [and current] nerdy self. Well, literally. But still.)

Some of my phone* photos from last year.
*(Except for the one of me, which my mom took.)
I love how my images are mostly of women,
even Guanyin (the Goddess of Mercy).

I’ll be back on April 4. ‘Til then: Read my new (launched it last week!) ongoing interview series, ABC in HK, amplifying the voices—and the stories, struggles, triumphs, and dreams—of Chinese Americans who’ve returned to their roots, here and on Medium (and view the call for voices, which I’ve added a couple updates to, here); and look forward to my upcoming exhibit at the Chicago Public Library during May in celebration of Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month.

Call for Voices: ABC in HK

Calling all Chinese American expats in Hong Kong!

Me on Kowloon Peak / Fei Ngo Shan, Hong Kong, 2016. Photo by one of my
aunts (whose name, after joining our family, also happens to be Jenny Lam).

Are you a Chinese American (either an ABC—a.k.a. American-born Chinese—or Chinese who grew up in the US) currently living in Hong Kong? I want to hear from you!

I’m launching ABC in HK, a mini interview series featuring Chinese Americans who’ve returned to their roots / motherland, whether it’s for work or any other reason.

(I’m especially interested in hearing the voices of Chinese American artists in Hong Kong, but people of all occupations are welcome to answer this call, as I’m looking for a variety of perspectives.)

These interviews will be conducted via email and published online. (And possibly also as a little zine if I get enough contributions and if I get enough artists possibly also as a little group exhibition; the possibilities are endless!)

I’ll also put everyone I interview in touch with each other (if you want to opt out of this that’s fine too!) and build a community!

I want to amplify your stories, your struggles, your triumphs, your dreams.

If you’d like to participate, shoot me an email at artists.on.the.lam@gmail.com with “ABC in HK interview” as the subject.

Update 1: ABC in HK has officially launched! Read the first interview here, and check out the tag (as well as the Medium feed) to see all interviews.

Update 2: I’ve been getting emails asking if I’m still doing this, and the answer is yes! This is an ongoing project.

Jenny Lam is a self-taught artist, independent curator, and writer. She was born in Chicago to Hong Kong immigrants, and she graduated from Columbia University in New York City. Her site, Artists on the Lam, was named “Best Local Visual Arts Blog” in the Chicago Reader, and her group show, I CAN DO THAT, was named the audience choice for “Best Art Exhibit” in NewCity. Part of her ongoing large-scale interactive public art project, Dreams of a City, was selected to be exhibited in the Chicago Cultural Center, and an original story of hers exploring Asian American identity was published in New Frontiers, a graphic novel anthology.