Confessions and Gratitude

When I was little I liked to scribble. And like many young people arts were my passion. But it was only a sparetime joy and I was quite happy with the fact that things in my head will never be told in another way to people I don't know.

One day when I was 24 my appetite simply ceased to exist. And my battle against the symptoms began: the nausea, shivers, the muscle twitchings and sweating, trying to tackle them with a series of scientifically legitimate diagnoses and their correlative treatments. But none of the terminologies on the physical or mental spectrum seemed to have quite satisfactorily done the job, and on went my life's journey with the lurking fear of meal-gatherings, long-distance travels, medications with all their side effects, and eventually, a hospitalization caused by those improper medication, leaving me with a completely shattered memory and a consciousness in some sort of la-la-land. In the existentialists' sense of reality, it WAS the death of my mind.

But luckily, a re-birth ensued, and the memory was back. And the recovery process, during which every fabric of my existence felt insubstantial, has in the end made me a thankful survivor with a fond, special mindfulness of the fleetingness of everything. It is like having a nice secret friendship.

This bliss-in-a-curse has fed to my creative fire, which eventually grew into the kind of unruly passion sometimes too big for me to contain. It was clear to me that only by dipicting, portraying, and externalizing things in ways that heal others, can I be saved and be eternally free from sickness. This urge, along with the persisting symptoms, has driven me to fulfill my dreams in the boldest ways possible, and has gotten me into, but also cruelly taken me out of, many art institutions of my dream.

However formidable this whole process may sound, I have received numerous love, trust and support during my endeavor. They were what kept the fire from burning out in my weakest times, and I know that there's just no way that I'm going to let all that yield to nothing.

I am immensely grateful to the following people:

My family, whose love, understanding and support can only be explained as something as miraculous as the creation of the universe itself.

My friends in Taiwan, including Shoro Pan, Chang Chia-Chen, Emma Chou, Nisa Huang, Iris Lee, and many others who have been the fun and joy of my life.

The faculty members who have wisely guided me in Columbia University: Arnold Aronson, Christian Parker, Leslie Ayvazian (who reminded me the existence of my backbone), Gideon Lester, Gregory Mosher, Anne Bogart, and Dorita Hannah. Your influences on me were beyond expressible language and they stayed with me for very long.

My two lovely roommates in New York, Mia Shen and Jing Wang. Your presence has given me the ability to take it easy and enjoy life.

My incredible classmates: Ashley Melone, Brittany Marion Patch, Lunga Radebe, Adrian Silver, Lauren Whitehead, and Anika Chapin. And all the directors, actors, playwrights, producers and stage managers. Also to all the people I have collaborated with in New York. I am so proud that I get to learn with all of you and you have all profoundly influenced me. (A special thanks to Sina Heiß, who took me into dancing and kept me grounded. That was an important process of my life.)

Big big thanks to the professors whose knowledge were my college enlightenment, John Maloney, Rudolphus Teeuwen, Ting-Yao Luo, Hui-Hwa Lee, and Alex KT Chung. You have kindled my dramatist-poet-philosopher-artist' soul and given me truthful advice along the way.

Dirk Maassen, the incredible pianist from Ulm, Germany who inspired me with his music and reminded me that being human and being creative is all that it takes.

And thanks to Mr. Jin Shi-Jye, my favorite playwright and performer in Taiwan.

When I was living in care at home in 2012-2014, arts was my means of self-heal and the philosophy of many art-practitioners have played a crucial role in establishing the self-discipline that is so essential to my creative process. A great deal of my courage came from the words of Neil Gaiman, Marina Abromović and Ira Glass. I am not acquainted with them, but I wrote their names here nonetheless because I hope if there's anyone out there who believe they have the faintest power to kindle and resurrect a faraway soul, please do not let the doubts stop you and just go ahead and give it some form of expression. All that you believe will become something someday.

This site was quietly put online in May, 2014, which was the month I was expected to finish graduate school. Though I wasn't able to, I will continue to write and share my arts as best as I can.

#mori