What pivotal moments or experiences led you to embrace the 'frog  witch' persona, and how does this identity inform your artistic expression?

Hahaha, that’s a very interesting question! My relationship with frogs goes way back to when I was very young. When I was a baby, I used to sleep with my legs bent in a way that resembled a frog, so my parents often joked that I  must have been a frog in a past life. Because of this, my family has called me  "frog" since I was little. Later, when I entered art school, I remembered this childhood nickname and decided to explore and develop the concept of the frog in my work. 

I did a lot of research on frogs and discovered that they are considered lucky animals in many cultures. In many parts of Asia, frogs symbolize fertility and happiness, often representing the hope for more children. In Europe, frog sculptures are often used as decorations, with places that have frogs being associated with moisture or wetness. The frog, in a way, became my symbolic animal, much like another zodiac sign of mine, always present in my life and culture. 

When I create, I often personify the frog, using it as a symbol to make my work more engaging. The combination of frog and human opens up endless possibilities—imagine a frog with magical powers or a human who can live in water. It brings the character to life in a vivid and playful way. 

In your statement, you mentioned residing in various small farms while learning and practising permaculture. Could you describe a specific instance where your permaculture experience directly impacted your artistic process or the creation of a particular work? 

Sure, I’m very happy to share this part of my experience. Four years ago, I  volunteered for the first time in a small town called Todmorden, England. This was my first experience living and working on a permaculture farm, and it’s this experience that sparked my desire to learn more about permaculture— not just in terms of sustainable farming, but also how to live sustainably and create a healthy community. 

A small permaculture farm is almost like a land artwork. It requires knowing how to manage domestic waste, how to make the most of available materials,  how to avoid waste, and how to design with things that might otherwise be considered garbage. In fact, on many sustainable farms, I met real "hippies"  who taught me about various plants and herbs, how to connect with nature, and how to appreciate the creatures around us. They also helped me understand the seasonal work on the farm. This experience has given me a lot of inspiration. Many of my drawings are influenced by the farm and nature,  and I often collect old, dried plants to use in my costume designs while I’m on the farm. 

The impact of the permaculture farm on me has been profound. Coming back to city life, though, many times it’s hard to put what I learned into practice. For example, I imagine my studio becoming a plastic-free space, but then I find myself bringing plastic back when I pick up a meal deal for lunch. Haha. 

You also mentioned a fascination for ancient nature ceremonies. Can you lead us through a project that is particularly influenced by these ceremonies? 

Sure, I also really enjoy this question. In fact, several of my projects have been inspired by ancient rituals, and I’d like to introduce one of my favourite projects from the past two years: A Cheetah Demon: Furry Stratagems to a  Clean Forest and Mind, a land-based stage performance. In this project, I  created a series of dog-inspired costumes using plants and second-hand clothing collected from nature and everyday life. In the end, Yicong and I  collaborated, inviting our artist friends to perform the show and holding a ritual ceremony in the forest to celebrate and thank nature. 

This event also served as a great opportunity for us to encourage the artistic community around us to explore nature more deeply. We chose the forest as our stage, just as ancient ceremonies were held in natural settings. We guided the audience on a hike to the deep forest, where they could experience the performance in this immersive environment. We will later release a documentary about the performance, and the event is also documented in my zine, Suck Green and See, issue 04. 

In your artist statement, you discuss the importance of following the seasons. Can you tell us more about your process for collecting materials and how this ritual impacts your practice? 

I enjoy collecting plants, stones, animal feathers, and other natural items from the world around me to incorporate into my work. I also collect discarded materials and second-hand clothing, which is quite different from simply buying new materials in a store. When you go to a store to buy fabric, you can get exactly what you want whenever you need it. But when I started making things out of the "treasures" I could find around me, I realized that the availability of materials was much more limited. The amount and type of natural materials I can collect change from season to season. For example, in autumn, I can gather dried leaves and branches, while in spring, there are fresh reed leaves to collect. 

This process has taught me to value materials more because they are finite.  Once a season passes, I have to wait another year before I can collect certain materials again. Each natural material feels like a special gift from nature, unique to the time and place I’m in. 

How did the environment and community at the LOIS Transformation  Desert Lab challenge or inspire your artistic practice during your residency? 

Last July, I went to the desert in Poland during what was probably the hottest time of the year. We lived in tents surrounded by pine forests, sleeping in sleeping bags and cooking our own meals. I remember there were no lights at night, except for a few small solar lamps outside the tents. At first, I was both shocked and a little panicked because the living environment was so different, and I was surrounded by many unfamiliar faces. However, after about two days, I found myself immersed in this short utopian experience. I  didn’t use my phone much during my stay, and instead, I took part in daily workshops led by different artists to explore the possibilities of living outdoors. During my time there, I experimented with sand to create a sand carpet for the forest. The idea was simple: I like to focus on existing materials and find ways to incorporate them into my work in meaningful ways. Although my stay in the desert was brief, it allowed me to truly appreciate the beauty of nature and approach everything with an open mind. 

You’ve created a self-published zine called Suck Green and See. What message do you hope to convey through this zine, and what prompted you to create it? 

The casual zine series showcases people's work in the field. I enjoy doing and exploring projects outdoors, so I use the zine as a way to collect and share visual language. Suck Green and See aims to highlight people, nature, and truth. The first four issues have already sold out, but if you’re interested, you can read them on the zine’s website. 

I started this zine in 2021 as a semi-annual publication. The reason behind starting it was quite natural; that year, I began experimenting with a lot of outdoor projects, most of which were small sculptures and installations made from natural materials. After completing the works, I would leave them in the forest, with only photo records remaining. To better document and share my creative process, I decided to create a small zine. At the time, many friends encouraged me to keep going with it, so I printed a few copies of the first issue and took them to Bookspeckham, a unique second-hand bookstore in South London. The store’s founder, Peter, thought the magazine was very interesting and wanted to sell it. That support gave me a huge boost, and it encouraged me to continue using the zine to document my research and creative process every six months. 

How did the collaborative outdoor performance 'A Cheetah Demon: Furry  Stratagems to a Clean Forest and Mind' with Yicong inform your individual artistic practice and your understanding of environmental themes? 

The most meaningful aspect of this performance, for me, was that it felt like a collective project. Yicong and I realized that every actor, stage designer, and photographer involved was an artist from our community, and everyone was deeply interested in the project. Although the process was complex, it felt more like a group of people coming together to play in the forest during the preparation and rehearsal stages. Both the team and the audience were very satisfied with the final result. If given the chance, I would love to engage in more collective creative projects like this. 

As for the environmental theme, the simplest idea behind our event was to encourage more people to discover the joy of nature and to take more walks outdoors. Environmental issues are becoming increasingly serious, and from an artist’s perspective, our goal was to advocate for the protection of nature.  By inspiring people to fall in love with nature and view the forest as a home,  we hope to foster a deeper connection that can lead to greater environmental awareness and action. 

Looking back at your body of work, is there a particular project that represents a significant turning point in your artistic development? How did that experience shape your subsequent work? 

Looking back at my body of work, I would say that the outdoor performance  "A Cheetah Demon: Furry Stratagems to a Clean Forest and Mind" marked a significant turning point in my artistic development. This project pushed me out of my comfort zone and encouraged me to experiment with new people,  perspectives, and materials that I had never explored before. It was a transformative experience.S ince then, I’ve found myself more focused on the importance of community building and the creative possibilities of collective collaboration. I want to prioritize the connections and exchanges of ideas between people in my immediate surroundings, as well as contribute to the creation of a thriving artistic community.

Art and artists play various roles in the fabric of contemporary society.  How does your artistic practice contribute to your understanding of yourself and the world around you? 

My artistic practice serves as a mirror through which I explore and understand both myself and the world around me. Through creating, I am able to process my thoughts, emotions, and experiences, which helps me gain a deeper understanding of my own identity and how I relate to others. Art becomes a form of self-reflection, allowing me to examine my beliefs, struggles, and personal growth. It also provides a means of communication that words alone cannot fully express. I believe my art practice has made me kinder and more at peace with everything around me. 

What message or call to action would you like to share with our readers? 

I would encourage everyone to embrace nature and spend more time observing the trees and smelling the plants around them.

Find more about the artist here.

Cover image:

Forest Massage and Roots Dance, colour pencil on paper, 25x32cm, 2024. Image courtesy of  Xintong Qin(OT).