As a child, I was fascinated by insects. I would catch them and store them in glass bottles. This practice allowed me to preserve these magical creatures while observing them closely. Growing up in a suburban environment, nature was always at my doorstep. For example, my grandmother had many acres of farm land in the area surrounding her home. The forest and small rivers that ran through her property offered me comfort and a feeling of protection. In my experience, nature was always a peaceful environment, contrasting the harsh urban environment in China and then Canada. Therefore, nature and its many symbolic representations, in imagery and insect specimens, is important to my work.
At the same time, by placing these leaves and wooden pieces in clear glass bottles, there is a transparency for the viewer. By not painting the bottles or using a colored glass, the viewer can truly sense the objects in front of them. Viewing them in an unobstructed way is important, because it allows for a meditative experience. However, the work also questions our human relationship to nature and distance-based homesickness or nostalgia. Specifically because each of these pieces of nature are placed in these clear bottles, it reminds the viewer of the strange relationship we create with nature. Both insects and leaves are collected, contained, preserved, and therefore made into non-free objects. The bottles create a meaning of studying the organic materials inside. They create a distance between the viewer and nature: nature itself is divorced from its origin. In a way, these objects are taxidermic and dead. Thus, the viewer has to question their relationship to nature. Humans use and exploit nature as a material to create industrial products. This highly emotional work allows nature to be present for the viewer while reminding them of the distance between them and our original natural environment.