Right now, I’m sitting in front of my computer, typing away. There’s a cup of milk on the desk, and on a black plate, there are several hot pancakes with a crispy exterior and a soft interior, accompanied by nuts. The washing machine is making a spinning sound. There are no major illnesses or disasters, and I’m peacefully enjoying my breakfast, which is considered a blessing. However, for some elderly people who endured immense suffering in December of last year, they had to pay a great price to be able to enjoy their meals again.
Let’s go back to January 1st, when I was filled with panic and anxiety. I didn’t sleep a minute throughout the night and ended up boarding a Sichuan Airlines flight from Beijing to Chengdu. Later, I found out that my niece, who was studying in New York, cried for two days and two nights without telling her family. She heard that her grandfather and grandmother were admitted to the hospital, and she also heard that her classmate’s grandmother had just been admitted and passed away the next day.
In Beijing, my sister told me over the phone that our mother was accompanying our father, waiting for a hospital bed on a bench in the hospital. They had been waiting for a day and a night. After my father fainted, he lost control of his bladder. My sister also has coronary heart disease, and now she can only prevent our mother from going to the hospital. If I could go back, it would be best because she’s afraid there won’t be anyone to take care of our mother at home. She has to work, cook, and run to the hospital, unable to manage everything on her own.
My sister said she received a call from a friend of our father’s in Chongqing three days ago. They didn’t know whether they should secretly call us, but they said our father went to the hospital for intravenous therapy and could hardly walk. My sister recalled that in the past few days, our father had been extremely quiet in the family group chat and hadn’t even posted a “good morning” message. She immediately decided to drive from Chengdu to Chongqing to pick up our father. It was already past 8 o’clock in the evening when she got off work and arrived home. Our mother had a high fever that had just subsided three days ago, and she had been experiencing a low temperature of around 37 degrees. Worried about our sister making a round trip between Chengdu and Chongqing overnight all by herself, she bravely volunteered to accompany her as the co-driver.
In November, my sister had just lost a Labrador Retriever who had been with her for 14 years. She told me that she burst into tears while driving alone and secretly spent thousands of dollars to buy a burial plot for the dog named “DouDou.” She didn’t tell her daughter who was far away on the other side of the earth, but she left a place of remembrance for DouDou. When she returns, there will be a place to commemorate their 14 years of companionship. They first met when the little girl was still in kindergarten and the puppy was just a few months old. In the blink of an eye, one went to college, and the other went to the “dog star.”
On the highway, from 8 o’clock the previous night until the early morning of the next day, even as the sky gradually brightened, my sister said she would endure any exhaustion. She had only one belief in her heart: her daughter had already lost DouDou, and she couldn’t let her lose her grandfather as well.
The Dangerous Nature of the Virus was known by my sister. Just a week ago, the father of her company’s boss from Leshan was admitted to the hospital in Chengdu, and he passed away within a week. Despite their connections and financial resources, they couldn’t save the elderly man.
As for my father, after arriving at his home in Chongqing, I heard that he couldn’t eat and was living alone. He didn’t want to bother or disturb anyone, not even informing our family in Chengdu. It had been five days since he last ate, thinking he could tough it out. But who would have thought that the illness would progress rapidly? He could no longer put on pants or bend down to tie his shoes.
Finally, my sister, with a humbled face, managed to get a bed for our father in the hospital room, albeit in the gastroenterology department. I heard that even the obstetrics and gynecology department had admitted 80-year-old men during that time.
On the evening of January 1st, I finally saw my father on the hospital bed. His eyes were cloudy, his cheeks were sunken, and his speech was short and hoarse. He wore an oxygen tube and had an IV drip in his hand. The elderly man in the neighboring bed couldn’t stop coughing, the sound echoing continuously.
The scene was distressing. Who would take care of me when I grew old and had no children to rely on?
I heard that the US government provides free caregivers for elderly and sick people in low-income groups. In the previous months, I happened to receive approval for artist immigration. The future is uncertain regarding whether I’ll have a low income or face health issues.
As someone approaching their fifties, I still want to go out and explore, to start anew in a relatively ideal country on Earth. Why is that?
Is it related to my father, who has been living alone and enjoying his own company? He loves his freedom so much that he hasn’t visited me in Beijing for over twenty years while I work and live there. He considers his children a burden. But back in those days, there was no choice but to go with the flow.
I remember him saying when I was young that living past sixty would be sufficient. Coincidentally, when he turned sixty, my niece asked our grandmother to stay in Chongqing for a few more days. Originally, we planned to return to Chengdu, but on the previous evening, my father suddenly had difficulty breathing. He could hardly move, and once he arrived at the hospital, he was immediately taken to the ICU. His heart rate was dangerously low, only 30 beats per minute. He underwent surgery to have a pacemaker installed.
This is the price of his freedom. He almost made it past sixty, only to face the possibility of it all ending in his seventies. Will his continued life bring any changes? Will he learn to cherish his family more and reevaluate his long-irritating wife? She takes care of him diligently every day, but she also radiates negative energy, constantly complaining. She has been a chatterbox for half a lifetime.
For the past twenty or thirty years since university, I have been reluctant to return home or even spend the Spring Festival there. It’s just repeating the same family scenes from my childhood. In my heart, I have an ideal image of parents who speak softly, negotiate, have a pleasant demeanor, and value every aspect of each family member’s life. Under the same roof, there are boundaries and limits, respect and tolerance. My second aunt and uncle come close to that ideal image. As a child, I secretly considered them my parents. My real parents were surprised, puzzled, and even a bit angry when they found out.
So, I got married and divorced. I love freedom, but I haven’t been good at choosing boyfriends, managing marriages, or raising children.
However, I am preparing to get married again, this time to someone else, in Los Angeles.
During the Spring Festival when I stayed in Chengdu, it was a suitable time for something significant: getting engaged. This way, my mother can feel at ease with her daughter about to embark on a journey far away. She hurriedly knitted a pair of wide-leg trousers in dark gray, along with two cashmere sweaters from before and a soft, red scarf. She said it was a memento from Mom. The unspoken message was that my mother had coronary heart disease and said, “Once you leave, it’s done. It takes you 12 hours to fly back, and air tickets are so expensive. It’s not as easy as traveling domestically. We might only meet every five years from now on. I’m already seventy-four. How many five-year intervals do we have left?”
When a person comes into the world, they must fulfill their mission.
After the divorce, I embarked on the path of a professional artist. Living alone in Beijing, I started to realize my own value. I inherited my father’s love for freedom and his artistic talent. I can endure hardships, explore untapped abilities, broaden my horizons, and await a suitable partner. Together, we can fulfill and conclude this lifetime.
We both had the fear of our first failed marriages, so we discussed and drafted a plan, continuously refining rules for every aspect of our life together. Since we hadn’t held hands before getting engaged, this seemingly traditional marriage felt somewhat sacred.
Not being able to meet in person, we chatted for months before he realized that my skin wasn’t as smooth as his, which caused me to lose some of the goddess-like status I had held in his mind for many years.
Fair and flawless, delicate to the touch, and other descriptions pointing to a noble woman with carnal desires made me feel passive. Suddenly, I found myself overshadowed by male dominance and attacked by mainstream standards that favor perfect genes and noble birth. Honestly, I also liked smooth and delicate fair skin, but at the same time, it made me feel inferior. It was like the difference between a maid and a princess. Regardless, I wanted to find a way to break free and not let myself feel insecure.
Our skin is inherited from our parents, something I cannot change, nor is it my fault. Since one person has smooth skin, both of them can enjoy it. If that’s not enough satisfaction, he can wear my clothes and become me. I can wear his clothes and become him. In the end, when I use theatrical humor to suppress his interest in smooth skin, it can be said that the study of art history comes into play. During the Renaissance, Raphael excelled at depicting smooth and delicate skin, and historical records indicate that he indulged in pleasure but died at the young age of 37. Five hundred years later, Frida Kahlo painted herself with two eyebrows connected and depicted herself with a mustache, enduring a lifetime of pain, forging an indomitable artistic life full of brilliance.
The development of art history revolves around a revolutionary attitude of saying no, where old concepts that bind human nature give birth to new ideologies.
Parents argue and quarrel throughout their lives, but what they need most is to calm down and listen to each other’s needs. If they could swap clothes, put on their youthful appearances, and dress up as various characters, they might find themselves bursting into laughter and shedding tears of renewed love for each other.
The vast starry sky, life passing like a white horse, I hope they can empathize with each other and love each other as they did in the beginning.
was born in Chongqing, China, in 1973. From 2000 to 2023, he worked and lived in Beijing. He has recently obtained a US artist immigration application and is preparing to attend an art exhibition in the United States.
After graduating from Sichuan Fine Arts Institute in 1996 with a major in industrial design, he worked for three years in motorcycle exterior design. In 1999, he moved to Beijing and from 2000 to 2005, he worked in web design and game development for a Stone Age and mobile gaming company. During this time, he developed an interest in contemporary Chinese art and sporadically started creating collage works and digital paintings. In 2005, he resigned and began his career as an artist.
In 2008, he held a solo exhibition at Beijing’s Paris-Beijing Gallery, and his collage artwork “Vegetable Museum” received widespread acclaim. In 2009, his work “Vegetable Museum” won the Creative First Prize at the 2nd Colorful Guizhou China’s Primitive Ecological International Photography Exhibition. In 2010, he was invited by Martin Parr to participate in the 2010 Brighton Photo Biennial in the UK. In 2011, he attended the PhotoLA Los Angeles Photography Exposition and Art Basel Miami. In 2013, he was an artist-in-residence at Open Space Bae in South Korea. In 2015, he participated in the Contemporary Art Fair in Spain. In 2016, he exhibited at the Beijing CIGE Gallery Expo. Judo Qi constructs an artistic world full of poetry and metaphor using the most ordinary daily objects. In an extremely accessible artistic context, he brings together familiar and unfamiliar contemporary art, inviting people to experience the fantastical feelings and reflect on the issues related to everyday objects. His different series of vegetable collage works have been collected both domestically and internationally.
He has also collaborated with various brands, including the 2011 Hangzhou Liangzhu Cultural Village 5A Scenic Area joint exhibition, the 2012 Shanghai JW Marriott Hotel National Chef Summit joint exhibition, the 2016 Shanghai Wanhehaomei Art Hotel’s orchid buffet restaurant collaboration project, the 2017 Inner Mongolia Ulanqab Food Festival and Qionglai Tianfu Honggu Buffet Restaurant collaboration project, the 2018 Art Beijing exhibition in collaboration with Microsoft Surface titled “A Horse in the Room,” and collaborations with Haier refrigerators for new product releases in 2018 and 2021, as well as the 2020 Guangdong Shunde Future Food Design Festival.
She finds it interesting to go to the farmers’ market to buy groceries as a source of creative inspiration and part of her daily life. In the company of two cats for over a decade, she has discovered the artistic value in the feline world and encourages fellow cat lovers to photograph their cats, organizing their creations into new images. She explores the value of incorporating art into everyday life. She invited Dong Jing to turn the cat exhibition into a cat-themed display with a steampunk and camp aesthetic. She hid cat images as part of a treasure hunt game at the exhibition, allowing viewers to experience the dual excitement of finding hidden cats. She designs clay accessories for her black cat. She pretends to need her mother’s assistance as a helper for clay sculpting, but in reality, she wants to experience the joy of handmade creations. The sculpting contents are specified, combining a flower, a person, a sofa, or a bed, with freedom in movements and clothing. She hopes to develop this into a project that enriches the leisure activities of the elderly. Using lace as her medium, she explores the modern woman’s attitude towards life. She creates poetry and pain by wrapping life and survival in patient gowns. She fired two ceramic characters, spelling out “trust,” placed them in a wooden box, and conducted a 20-person passing experiment, eventually compiling it into a video. She finds youth and happiness through her love for dancing.
I’m the second and youngest in my family. According to my mother, when I was born and they saw another daughter, my father wasn’t as happy. He didn’t like holding me either.
During my childhood, I had poor health. Except for sit-ups, I failed in all other physical education classes. I was afraid of climbing the pole, and when I threw the shot put, it nearly hit my own foot. Once, during a makeup exam for a long-distance run, I pushed myself to the limit. The next class, my heart hurt, and on the way home from school, I felt dizzy for a while and then woke up. After entering adolescence in middle school, I experienced significant emotional changes and had many gastrointestinal issues. I couldn’t sleep the whole night, staring out of the window at the streetlights for a long, long time in my dark room. During evening self-study, I would turn away from the densely packed blackboard to admire the ever-changing scenery of the sunset outside the window.
But my academic performance was among the best in the class. I was the literary committee member and the emcee for class events. Drawing on the blackboard and arranging the classroom bulletin board were always my tasks.
My life underwent a tremendous transformation when I began preparing for the art academy. I was exposed to rock bands like Queen and fell in love with a painting major student. I read Sartre’s philosophy and almost finished all of Simone de Beauvoir’s books, which had a profound impact on my life through her writing.
A few years after graduating, I married a university classmate and followed him to Beijing, where I have been living and working ever since.
Around 2000, with the booming internet industry, I entered the field of website design. I created an interesting personal website and my playful nature led me to work for online and mobile game companies. The influx of internet information brought about profound internal changes. The men I once admired gradually lost their radiance. My marriage reached its end.
I am extremely grateful to my ex-husband for introducing me to the world of art, which eventually led me to become an artist. Although initially, he strongly opposed me quitting my job in web design to pursue independent creative work, after shedding tears, I finally stood up against him and broke free from all the old relationship patterns. It was a completely new transformation and growth for me.
2008 個展在北京的巴黎·北京畫廊,《蔬菜博物館》拼貼作品受到廣泛好評, 2009第二屆多彩貴州·中國原生態國際攝影大展《蔬菜博物館》獲得創意一等獎. 2010年受馬丁帕爾邀請參加2010 英國布萊頓攝影雙年展，2011 年美國PhotoLA 洛杉磯攝影博覽會和邁阿密巴塞爾博覽會, 2013年韓國 Openspace Bae駐地藝術家, 2015年西班牙當代藝術博覽會, 2016 年北京CIGE畫廊博覽會,桔多淇用最普通的日常事物建構著充滿詩意和隱喻的藝術世界，在極其通俗的藝術語境中，把熟悉和不熟悉當代藝術的人們，一起帶入對日常事物構成的奇幻感受和問題反思。不同系列蔬菜拼貼作品被國內外收藏.
品牌合作項目2011杭州良渚文化村5A風景區合作展覽,2012 上海君悅酒店全國廚師峰會合作展覽, 2016 上海萬和昊美藝術酒店蝶蘭自助餐廳合作項目, 2017 內蒙古烏蘭察布美食節,邛崍·天府紅谷自助餐廳合作項目, 2018 藝術北京，與微軟surface合作展覽《房間里的一匹馬》, 2018 年和2021年與海爾冰箱新品發佈 2020 廣東順德未來食物設計節.