There is reverence in simple things; I paint these things with the hope they are not forgotten. I am an animist, believing that all things have a spirit. I paint memories of a place, of a time and of the lives that are there, even if we no longer see them. In the fishing village in Việt Nam where I was born and raised, respect dictates that we take in the world in glances–softly, quietly. There is beauty in the reverence that defines the culture of my ancestors. As an immigrant and an artist, I have learned to embrace the American spirit that says if you see a road that interests you, go ahead: venture down it. Even so, I am always a stranger to what I see; always slightly outside, finding in what is ordinary to others something tender, strange, alive. My animist lens sees the memories nurtured by this place. In contrast, there is also a sense of nostalgia and of something lost. It is from these vantage points that I have explored the Middle West, where the beauty that lies between the earth and the sky mesmerizes me. I venture to the end of dirt roads to discover what lies there and return with a sketch and a memory. And a story I want to tell. The process of creating a composition and telling that story interests me. I capture the quiet beauty that surrounds me. That becomes a part of me. These moments take in the memories in solitude. I am alone as we are connected to each other, connected to each other in our aloneness
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