Menopause

La Mujer

I never really look at myself as a “gender-specific” being until I am reminded to. The reminders/advice/warnings come from society. Physiological traits aside, I do not see that what I do is either male/female oriented. When I encounter a novel experience, I ask myself what I should do as a person, not what I should do as a woman. Frankly, I do not see a big difference. I perceive things through my senses, my body and my mind. I see myself as a big or small, simple or complicated machine. When events occur, I process. That is it! I do not underestimate/overestimate myself just because I am a woman.

Who is there?

Mirror Me

Normally, when a viewer sees my work, he/she sees my colors and patterns on a piece of canvas. Maybe he/she can connect his/her thoughts to whatever my art is. However, in such a case, my work has been pre-fixed for presentation. It will not change from time to time or from place to place. The result is set. But with a mirror placed on the canvas, the result changes. This painting changes along with a change of venue. And when a viewer stands in front of this painting, he/she is captured and physically involved IN my painting.

My constant “becoming” involves a lot of people—to be exact, those I personally know and many I do not personally know, those I love and those I have no love for. It does not matter how much I wish to keep myself away from people and groups: I am always and inevitably from time to time drawn to the people and groups. There is always some interaction and connection between me and the others. There is always one question: Who am I?

I & Me

Outside

There is a constant debate between my body and my mind, my outside and my inside. Life is a continuous battle with one’s self. I usually feel that wars are not competitions among people but competitions with oneself. One cannot really understand the world before he/she tries to figure himself/herself out. So, the nonstop quest is all about ME. When I pay more attention to searching myself, surprisingly I see the whole world map in me.

Parts of me

Inside

I see myself as a whole, not as an entity divided into small parts. If I now have bad eyesight, do I still function as a “complete” human being? How many well-functioning parts constitute “me”? By aging and degenerating, who, in the end, will I become?