The home gets all the glory, the walls invisible foundation. Inside, I learned how to desire. I learned how to dance. I learned and unlearned shame. I saw the walls reflect back a fractal soul and I mustered up the courage to cry. The body remembers what the mind neglects.

A repeated gesture becomes a language of care, an articulation of touch as a labor of love. As a queer Asian-American, my work is interested in connecting my own diasporic histories within the land, within the home, within the body. Shaped by borders, migration, and the inheritance of shared experience; I am interested in interrogating the structures that determine which narratives are preserved, inserting myself as an active participant in mechanisms that safeguard my own histories. I ask how we might listen more intently, how we might remember ourselves into wholeness. Beyond walls, beyond nation, beyond the lines we’ve drawn.

Clay is elemental, the earth is flesh, bodies are vessels archiving time on this Earth.

In a century, our bodies will be no more, but our archives may persist.