Bubble & Cocoon, 2010, Chicago; archival color print, 40" x 50"

Unknowingly, I created a cocoon to shelter my feelings during the Cultural Revolution. It was a time when speaking your mind would easily inflict political persecution. I felt extremely vulnerable, yet I desperately needed an emotional outlet in the suffocating surrounding atmosphere. Thus my camera became my sole confidant, and landscape photography my diary. However, an escape from the political turbulence was nothing but an illusion. Every now and then I was thrown in harm's way and my cocoon proved to be as frail as a bubble.

Bubble & Cocoon, 2010, Chicago; archival color print, 40" x 50"

Unknowingly, I created a cocoon to shelter my feelings during the Cultural Revolution. It was a time when speaking your mind would easily inflict political persecution. I felt extremely vulnerable, yet I desperately needed an emotional outlet in the suffocating surrounding atmosphere. Thus my camera became my sole confidant, and landscape photography my diary. However, an escape from the political turbulence was nothing but an illusion. Every now and then I was thrown in harm's way and my cocoon proved to be as frail as a bubble.

Facing 3,000 years' influence of a complex cultural background, till his last breath Mao tried to forge the ideology of an entire generation of “Communist successors”. It was never truly successful. Though labeled as an “educable” kid, I ended up believing in nothing. Or, perhaps, Mao just neglected some crucial historical lessons? After all, China has been perennially a void of dominant religions. Faiths to No Faith 2009, Chicago; archival color print, 40" x 50"

A Utopian Refuge, 2010, Chicago; archival color print, 40" x 50"

The Butterfly Story by Zhuang Zi, a Chinese philosopher of 400 B.C., was a metaphor that pioneered the now trendy concepts of parallel universes and dual-realities. It haunted me after I came to the U.S. in 1983, when I was caught between two different cultures and realities and found myself totally unprepared. In my subconsciousness, for quite some time, neither world appeared real. However, straying between past pride and future expectations, though both illusional, did shed some light on the disorientation of my mind.

Old Country Reflections, 2008, Chicago; archival color print, 40" x 50"

Wow, Chicago! America! I had the feeling of being uprooted from a familiar, intimate and murky swamp of ages and dangling over a kaleidoscopic bird's-eye-view of a metropolis of steel and concrete, with the unnerving sensation of a free-fall. The newcomer syndrome? In those days, my mind constantly revisited the Chinese farmers I had photographed. Like the students coaxed and coerced to “settle down in the countryside” by Mao not long before, I was reliving the helplessness of the farmers in my own version of the “Butterfly Story”.

How to adapt to Western “contemporary art” was, at the beginning, a mind-boggling issue for me at SAIC (the School of the Art Institute of Chicago). Looking around I saw more than a handful examples of challenging art traditions that ended up in total bewilderment when their passions were exhausted together with their means of living. The word “ashes” sometimes would pop up in my mind, though I believed it was perhaps the only way to stoke the fire. After all, the school's principle of free conceptual “self-expression” did more than open eyes for some. Now, the issue became how to be among the lucky few. SAIC Syndrome 2008, Chicago; archival color print, 40" x 50"

Wandering Focuses, 2008, Chicago; archival color print, 40" x 50"

Historically Chinese artists believed art was all about making exquisite imagery to glorify life and purify the artist's intellectual quality and temperament. Even monetary concerns were deemed disdainful distractions. I was now planted in a reality that advocated acting on one's own free will and meanwhile, demanded respect for pragmatism in the survival struggle. Conformity seemed a must. The question was where the fine line should be drawn before the disappearance of originality.

Saccharine Seduction, 2008, Chicago; archival color print, 40" x 50"

My years in the field of commercial arts eventually cast another facade of my instinct: the inclination to please in creating visual effects. “Self-expression”, as desirable and indispensable as it is in fine art creation, often could get in the way in successfully serving others' needs. Temptation circumvents you every single second. Surrendering your ego could be bittersweet, as I found out.

Two Worlds & Three Outlooks #1: Liberation, 2010, 2008, Chicago; archival color print, 40" x 50"

In the 1950s, the Chinese government considered itself the savior of the Tibetans from religious oppression and slavery. Today, clearly, Tibetans are living a much-improved material life. On the other hand, the Chinese nationalism now in full swing places the integrity of the Chinese territory above any religious or ideological conflicts. It seems that any concerns about human rights will have to take a back seat.

Two Worlds & Three Outlooks #2: Enlightenment, 2010, Chicago; archival color print, 40" x 50"

The Western world watches China’s behavior with intense interest to gauge its role and impact on the world stage: “Is China a happily converted partner or an ideological and cultural heretic?” In the meantime, values of Western-rooted democracy are generously and extensively applied around the world. Supposedly, they will also benefit the Tibetans.

Two Worlds & Three Outlooks #3: We Want "...", 2009, Chicago; archival Color print, 40" x 50"

The Tibetans are now caught between the arguments of two loving parents. Both claim they act in behalf of their foster child’s best interest in the heat of finger-pointing. Neither bothers to find out what the Tibetans are thinking and really wanting. Or who knows, maybe it does not matter. A good secular material life may just suffice, as it seems.

Tibet Impression: Once Fervent Tenacity, 2008, Chicago; archival color print, 40" x 50"

In 1983, at the winter temperature of -20F, many Tibetan worshippers willingly died kowtowing for hundreds of miles to pay their reverence at an annual Buddhist congregational festival. Just less than a decade before, the Cultural Revolution that Mao claimed touching every living soul, effectively wiped out any religious worshipping in China. The younger generation, myself included, was either involved in the “revolutionary” frenzy, or became non-believers of anything. Miraculously, the Tibetans found a way to preserve their faith. However, history has yet to prove that such tenacity has a chance against the almighty capitalism.

Tibet Impression: Endearment of Distraction, 2008, Chicago; archival color print, 40" x 50"

In China's pursuit of the Four Modernizations, Tibet was not immune to the surging commercialism. While the Tibetans’ living standards are vastly improving, their cultural characteristics have submerged quickly under Western-inspired life styles, most noticeably in major cities. Nowadays, replicas of Buddhist instruments are hot-selling tourist souvenirs and lamas are soliciting Buddhist scriptures on the streets for donations. Even garbage bins in the shape of a playful giant panda have found their way into the Potala Palace, the Dali Lama's former holy residence.

Tibet Impression: Time's New Marks, 2008, Chicago; archival color print, 40" x 50"

Tibetans, especially the younger generation, seem to welcome the changes brought along by the flourishing commercialism. Modern vehicles have long replaced horses. “Massage” salons or “barber shops” are everywhere. Few people wear Tibetan traditional dress any more in the cities. Apparently, “redemption for a better after-life”, has lost quite a bit of its appeal.

Tibet Impression: The Lost Dynasty I, 2008, Chicago; archival color print, 40" x 50"

The ruins of Gu Ge, a kingdom founded 700 years ago, are situated in the barrenness of today's Chinese west border area, 1,500 miles away from Lhasa, across a vast unpopulated land named Ali. Some descendants of King Songtsan Gam Po (700 A.D.), political exiles of royal family power struggle, fled all the way here for the chance to survive, and managed to last about 100 years despite the extreme scarcity of water and plants.

Tibet Impression: The Lost Dynasty II , 2008, Chicago; archival color print, 40" x 50"

Today, all that is left by the Gu Ge dynasty is the scattered, barely recognizable ruins for one to imagine the kingdom's long-gone hardship, and the opportunity to admire their sheer will to sustain. All civilizations may one day turn to ruins. All may not be lost if someone is left to marvel at them.