I was born in Nanxun, a water village in the heart of Jiang Nan Region. In my childhood years, I was influenced by both the new and old culture. At the age of fifteen, I was enrolled in Nanjing Normal University for five years of professional study in the fine arts. It was shortly after the founding of the People’s Republic of China, so our campus was an interesting juxtaposition: palace-like halls of the former Jinling Woman’s College, newly built temporary studios, and simple wooden sheds. The professors from the formal Central University entered the campus in their unique personal ways: Fu Baoshi, always dressed in herringbone coat and umbrella in hand, arrived in trishaw in a hurry, Chen Zhifo, gentle and elegant, showed up punctual at the office everyday. Lv Sibai, with his grass woven briefcase, was forever smiling, yet somewhat detached. Qin Xuanfu, full of energy and talked with dancing arms. Yang Jianhou, hunchbacked but always looked at you with piercing eyes. There was also Song Zhenyin, who was always dressed properly in nice suits… They were all grand masters of their times, still carrying the air of the old Republic era. I shall never forget about those charismatic characters, and shall cherish these faraway memories forever.

Now I have reached my eighties. In almost eighty years, my life has gone through many ups and downs reflecting the changes of climates in my country. I taught at middle schools, vocational schools and universities, and occasionally took on odd jobs out of necessity. I ventured into most of the painting genres: Classic Chinese, Oil, prints, traditional new year’s paintings, comic strips and posters. But as time goes by, only my childhood world appears more transparent and pure like crystals. The Miraculous Jiang Nan water village is always calling me:

Rivers, at times greyish green and in an instant turning into bluish purple, its rippled surface reflecting waggling roofs, mottled beige walls, tawny fences, decaying wooden doors, and round reflections of arch bridges…. In the courtyard, fresh new leaves with morning dew, chirpings of crickets, amber colored peach gum flowing down the tree trunk, dark purple berries hanging from the mulberry trees…. Under the arch over the house gate, a sleepy cat huddled up on a broken cane….another rainfall in the rainy season, pattering of rain on the tiled roof, water dripping on the oil paper umbrella, sometimes dull sometimes crispy, wuthering flowing water willed through the cracks of rocks….. above all, the residents of the water villages, the Jiang Nan people who have lived here for generations, with their special dialect, life style, tastes and characters, created “the unity of Man and Nature” in this small water village.

The poetic ancient homeland, following the footsteps of the bygones, has created a supreme world of Jiang Nan culture and would forever be my dreamland.

After many years of attempts, only in my middle ages did I finally find the medium to express my Jiang Nan dream --- watercolor, a light weapon in the art world for her transparent, flexible and splendid qualities.

The advantage of watercolor that when water and color turn into transparent colored layers, the agent of time plays with water, creating a magic of dryness and wetness. With rhythmic and skillful play of brushing, everything becomes alive and special effects are achieved through the harmonious interplay of light and color, feel and sentiments.

I have finally come to a crystal clear understanding and true realization of art after years of contemplation and pilgrimage of two “sacred mountains”--- one from understanding the charms of colors with pearl-like connectivity when looking at the marvelous original works of Cezanne, Matisse, Munch and Van Gogh. And the other from truly impressed by the depth and wisdom of ink paintings from ancient masters such as Ba Da Shan Ren, Xu Qingteng, Huang Binhong and Lin Sanzhi. We are too limited.