More Than an Exhibition

When I started painting Traces of Her, I thought I was searching for the stories of my grandmother.

Along the way, I realised that these paintings had become something much bigger.

They became conversations.

Not only between me and my grandmother, but also between strangers and their own memories.

Throughout the exhibition, I met people from many different backgrounds. Some had never been to Vietnam. Some had no connection to Vietnamese culture at all. Yet many of them still found something familiar in the paintings.

Some were reminded of their own grandmother.

Others thought about someone they had lost.

Some simply told me that the paintings made them slow down for a moment.

I think that is what I hope my work can do.

We live in a world that constantly asks us to move faster, achieve more, and think about what comes next. We often forget to appreciate the quiet moments that make up our lives.

A conversation over tea.

A walk through nature.

The comfort of sitting beside someone without saying much.

A memory we didn't realise we were carrying until something brought it back.

These are the moments I want to paint.

Not because they are extraordinary, but because they are easy to overlook.

Perhaps we can never truly know the lives our grandparents once lived.

But we can choose to be curious.

We can ask more questions while we still can.

We can listen a little longer.

We can appreciate the people around us before they become memories.

If someone leaves one of my exhibitions feeling a little calmer, calling a family member they haven't spoken to in a while, or simply noticing the beauty in an ordinary moment, then I feel that the paintings have already fulfilled their purpose.

For me, Traces of Her was never about finding all the answers.

It was about learning to cherish the stories we have, to imagine the ones we don't, and to remember that every life, no matter how ordinary it may seem, is worth preserving.