“(Ting’s) paintings… immediately put me into good spirits.”

Henry Woon, East/West News


A Little Background

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 beside my bed, 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 stay out of trouble, I became adept at being still, and learned to thrive in stealth and silence.  Imagination was my window for escape…



I am a reductive abstract painter. In work as in life, I am drawn to distillation and simplification. My paintings spring from a restive desire to rock the pulses of stillness and silence, to energize that which becomes stuck, and yes, to stir up ripples and make waves…

When colors and contours engage dynamically and emphatically, they can capture and illuminate life’s most fleeting moments, invite empathy, bridge disparities, reconcile dichotomies, and promise infinite possibilities. This is a practice that is both liberating and restorative; I am grateful to travel its path, and privileged to share it.




“No artist is pleased… There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.” — Martha Graham

“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.” — Henry James