“Mysticism (is) brought to the foreground, …Ting’s paintings seem like artifacts from some Jungian dreamscape.”

Ross Owens, Santa Clara Valley Weekly

Statement

I was born into a household with three women who had bound feet: Great Grandmother, Grandmother and Sixth Great Aunt. We lived together in an old house in Shanghai with a garret where all the children slept. One of my earliest memories was reaching into the secret jar from which all sweetness flowed, to extract my very own bar of sticky crumbly brown sugar.  Another was my stepping onto the sill of an open window, a cool wind on my face; I reached toward the patch of blue-grey sky, willing to fly.  Voices behind me screamed, “No! Stop! Do not move!”

Those words became the mantra for most of my upbringing.  They were to prevent me from being struck by whatever misfortune might be waiting in ambush.  In order to not get into trouble, I became adept at being still, and learned to thrive in stealth and silence.  Imagination was my window for escape…

The passing years have seen this child grow stronger, and more insistent, still filled with wonder, unbound by gravity… Imbued with curiosity and anticipation, I am inextricably drawn to moving and making marks, believing that work happens while it is in the making, and good things unfold when they are given room to bloom. A pristine ground is the most seductive and formidable of dancing partners. The promise of possibilities is infinitely palpable… I relish each of these first encounters. By simply placing one foot in front of the other, at once leading and following, we embark on a journey of companionable explorations. Together, we circumnavigate a world of our invention where forms and colors defy explanation and require no justification, where stillness is in a constant state of flux.  Unencumbered, we bask in the unknowing of what we seek, always trusting that our arrival will be marked by clarity and a grand harmony of proportions… The heart knows when the song rings true, the work is done, and we are home.

Henry James said,” We work in the dark – we do what we can – we give what we have.  Our doubt is our passion and our passion is our task.  The rest is the madness of art.”  This is liberating and restorative work, and I am happy to answer its call.