It took me a long time to describe myself as an artist. Being called an “artist” made me uncomfortable because I didn’t feel worthy of the title. When I looked at other people’s paintings, it only reminded me that my work is objectively flawed, unsophisticated and looked too fun to be called art. And for the longest time, I had a difficult time reconciling that with being a professional artist. While living and teaching in Baguio, my flatmate walked in while I was drawing and exclaimed, “Oh, you’re an artist! You have to do something with you art.” It was she who convinced me that I was, in fact, an artist. Without her telling me so in 2003, I don’t think I’d be doing what I do today.
Describing my work and putting it into words has always been a struggle. It took me decades to believe that the imperfection and joy in art is valid. Also, it was only this year, after looking back at my body of work, that I realised that my art is actually just a story. My story, my journey. And then ultimately, it became my clients’ story and journey. One of the gifts of doing my kind of art is hearing collectors tell me the tales of their lives, which is what I use to translate into commissioned artworks that hold meaning for them. It may not mean anything to others, but for the one looking at it, the ones who had it made, that painting is them.
And that is the best way to describe my work, that it’s a story that started in Baguio’s winding roads of Kennon Road to the colorful Peranakan houses of Singapore. My art pays tribute to the cultures and communities that helped me along the way. Without the 12 years spent living in Singapore, I don’t think I’d have the kind of art I have today as my palette uses the colors of the Peranakan culture.
In the beginning, I simply visualised my paintings hanging in beautiful homes. More than 21 years into my career, I have become an independent artist with an international client base of collectors scattered across 15 cities around the world. Without fanfare, my dream had come to fruition without me realising it, tiptoeing quietly but steadily through an unconventional and indirect route sans gallery representation.
Collectors never asked if I studied fine arts. No one has ever asked which gallery I belonged to or how many exhibits I’ve had. To many collectors who sincerely believe in what they see and how it makes them feel, sometimes the art in and of itself is simply enough. The internet is truly a gamechanger because it allows all creatives such as myself to by-pass the gatekeepers of the industry, levelling the playing field and allowing all of us to build a career beyond the rules of the traditional art world.
Ultimately, my work is a reminder that artists who prosper and empower themselves can also empower other artists to empower themselves.