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2023 | South Link Arts Festival, Taimali, Taitung
2021 | Palafang–New Perspectives of Hualien’s Landscape, Hualien Stone Sculpture Museum, Hualien
2020 | The Beginning of Life/Art: Cloth Weaves Our Times, Aomori Contemporary Art Centre, Japan
2020 | Moving & Migration, Kaohsiung Museum of Fine Arts; National Museum of Prehistory in Taitung; Gyeonggi
Museum of Modern Art, Seoul
2019 | Yirramboi, Meat Market, Melbourne
2017 | Hiding in the Island, MoCA Taipei
2016 | The Possibility of an Island, National Taiwan Museum of Fine Arts, Taichung


2022 | Dungku Asang, Ruixin Mine, Hualien


2016 | Public Art Award for Best Creativity for Woven Path
2016 | 3rd Pulima Art Award – First Prize
2014 | 2nd Pulima Art Award – First Prize 

Artistic Concept

Name of artworks : Milk and Tear〉 〈Trails People of Cepo’〉

Media : recycled rebar, 6mm round bar, fibers/Single-channel video

Year : 2022-2023  


Milk and Tear Trails

A trail of milk or tears shines on the ground with gorgeous curves and a sense of anxiety, at times exhausted, at times wild. I enjoy nestling against and rocking with this river, which, like a kind of milk, nourishes the people, vegetation, barking deer, and wild boars here; it is also comparable to a tear trail containing countless stories of pain. As the sun blazes overhead and I dance with the river, I can’t bear to leave its coolness. Standing next to a mountain bamboo forest in winter, I peek at the new lines it has drawn on the ground. I enjoy the nestling and rocking, and in fact, that’s all I can do.


People of Cepo’ 

The mud in Cepo’ was once rocks at the 19-km mark along the Ruisui Forestry Road. I have imagined how to weave a river. The direction in which the Xiuguluan River flows to the ocean is similar to the direction I took in coming to Makotaay: from the 19-km mark through Ihownang toward Ruisui, and then toward the Coastal Mountain Range to Kiwit. In Cepo’, I crossed the Changhong Bridge and slowly drifted toward the ocean. Weaving and being a nomad are my religion. Whether in the mining area of Dungku Asang or in the mud of Cepo’, whenever I’ve got the loom between my legs, an invisible power fills me.