A look at what I hide, even from those closest to me, and why.
A reading of the poem Nebula, accompanied by the art of Flow.
Explore the beauty of love alongside its downfall… Only love someone who can love you back… the same way…
This poem is a climate-change activism piece that follows mother nature’s crystalized tears as they pelt down on Earth, causing a blackout in a hospital where a guilt-ridden man awaits death.
I wrote this piece about growing up and being surrounded by other girls based on my notes app.
Crocodile tears is a phrase that refers to a false display of emotions, specifically sadness or grief. The term is derived from the phenomenon of crocodiles crying whilst consuming prey.
This a black out poem taken from pre-existing original prose regarding the failed revolution in Hong Kong.
“Let It Sink In” is a short montage film translation of a piece that I wrote revolving around teeth. It’s an exploration of love and relationships through using teeth metaphors and food/teeth imagery.
This multimedia piece was a collaboration between Tingting and myself. Accompanied with the nostalgic pictures of our childhoods are a series of short stories.
The Book of Extinct Creatures is a collection of mixed-media work for children. Through animals past and present, young readers will learn about important topics such as climate change and evolution.
This project sums up the type of writing I typically read and write myself. It is meant to be suspenseful and vague, which is why the words are so limited. I like giving the reader a lot of space to interpret my work in ways that are unique to them, which is why details about the characters and setting are not specified.
How often do you get to read poetry from the brain of a real teen? Everyone reads young adult books, but they’re written by adults so here’s your chance to read poetry from a teen, expressing themself. My work is inspired by prompts given to me by mentors or random thoughts and questions I have about life.
In a Halloween-esque manner, this poem explores silence, ritualistic elements of insomnia, and isolation. What it means, however, is up to you to interpret.
I sat in Port with my legs curled up on the floor, leaning up against my bunk bed.
Acne is not permanent; it will go away eventually. But there are also scars that can’t go away—they stay with you forever. In my piece, I decided to elaborate on this concept by explaining that not all scars can disappear, but we have the opportunity to embrace them, love ourselves for who we are as human beings, and not let society dictate our beauty.