During a Chinatown field trip for my English class last year, our tour guide told us the iconic architecture that lined the Chinatown streets was modeled after the mere idea of Chineseness, a marketing tourist trap designed in the image of China to a white state. I wonder, sometimes, how I, Chinese and learning to be so under an American government, might be any different. This piece is a simultaneous love letter to and critique of authenticity; after all, amidst the tourist trap architecture are real Chinese people and exports and community, old ladies wheeling carts of groceries and lacquered wooden boxes and plasticky trinkets. I am authentically myself and inauthentically Chinese, and maybe more alive for it.

Tinikling is one of the Philippine's traditional dances. I was inspired to compose the motions and the colors of the technical, three-quarter-time bamboo dancing because I wanted to share a beautiful piece from my culture that I had once rejected. Being born in the Philippines and immigrating during elementary school has formidably impacted my cultural identity. It took years of educating myself about the effects of colonialism on my identity for me to start appreciating my culture. I indulged myself in artwork produced by Filipino and Filipino-American artists, and when I visited my hometown, I took the time to learn Tinikling. Although I spent countless hours drilling different steps, my bare feet dirty, sore, and pinched by the bamboo, listening to a "1-2 click.." repeatedly in the hot, humid Philippines air, I was in LOVE with this dance. I loved the challenge it gave me, the sound of the bamboo clicking, the colors, and the graceful forms of Filipino folk dance. My love for this dance and culture inspired me to gather my friends, teach them the primary steps of Tinikling, and compose this picture. I wanted to present three things through this composition: the motion blur to demonstrate the challenging mobility that this dance demands, the setting of the hill to achieve a background that amplified the vivid colors of the traditional baro't saya that my friends are wearing, and the stillness of the girl in the center to demonstrate one of the graceful folk dance forms.

I'm sixteen years old and I was raised by immigrant parents in the Bay Area. This collection is built around that identity. The first poem, “dragon boat racing”, explores many of my personal experiences with growing up in an immigrant family, and the way these stories start and "end". The title follows a traditional Chinese festival celebrated in the month of June, and in the poem, the narrator recalls things that their grandmother has told them: keeping quiet and remembering your blessings is the only way to create the American dream. The second poem, “INTERPRET”, was inspired by a trip to Thailand with a family friend nearly seven years ago. While it remains a work of fiction, it’s a look into my childhood and the people I’ve left behind. Tied together with themes of admiration and grief, this coming-of-age poem is never explicit in its immigrant nature, but it contrasts new world ideas with a dichotomic Asian upbringing in a moment of reflection. In this collection, I hope to show the nuances of an immigrant American childhood. I also hope that through these pieces, the reader will understand that these stories are not simply events set in the past. They remain dynamic and ever-changing in the present and future; when I write, I am able to retell this rich history. Immigration is never one thing entirely. My own culture shares Burmese and Chinese influences. Perhaps it will share an American one too.

Franz Liszt's Transcendental Etudes are widely regarded as some of the most challenging and inspiring works in the piano repertoire. Composed during the 1830s and revised in the 1850s, these etudes were designed not only to showcase technical virtuosity but also to push the boundaries of pianistic expression. Out of the 12 etudes, I found No. 10 in F minor, often referred to as the "Appassionata," is a remarkable piece that embodies both technical brilliance and emotional depth. It stands as one of the most passionate and stirring compositions within the set of Transcendental Etudes. Liszt masterfully captures intense emotions through its dramatic melodies, powerful chords, and sweeping arpeggios. The piece alternates between moments of fiery passion and moments of tender introspection, allowing the pianist to convey a wide range of emotions. No. 10 also presents significant technical challenges. Its demanding passages include rapid octave runs, virtuosic arpeggios, and intricate fingerings that require precision, speed, and control. Music is a powerful artistic language that connects people beyond age, culture and background. Learning this etude is such an adventurous, inspiring and fulfilling musical experience for me. I hope that through my interpretation and performing of this piece, I could showcase my technical prowess, convey its passionate emotions, and leave a profound impact on both myself and my audiences.

I've been a competitive dancer for 10 years. At last year's Hollywood Invitational Nationals Dance competition, I competed with this dance - "Messages from the Stars".

My collage represents my struggle with God's existence. I grew up in a non-religious household, I knew people believed in God but I didn’t have time to think about that. But, as I get older some things that have happened felt like they were meant to be, like God had already planned my path. The more I got exposed to social media the more I saw of Islam and how much it called to me through Quran quotes. I feel like there is a future for my personal journey with Islam, but I am still scared of the question “Does God exist or not?” My fear of this question is represented through tears going down the woman’s face to a lover's embrace. Will I ever have true love like they do? Will I make it to Jannah, when I’m already lost at sea? I hope one day my deserted broken ship finds itself in the safe arms of a Mosque where I finally found what I had been looking for all along. I am still scared to take that first step in my journey because I fear I will be lost at sea forever if I don’t tether to Islam. There is no comfort in knowing the truth if Jannah and Jahannam exist or if the dark loneliness of infinity awaits us at the end of our life’s journey.

Over the years, I have been honing in my songwriting and production skills and techniques. This production was inspired by the works of Max Martin who is my idol. Recording this song went in stages. I began like any other song (messing around on the piano, hoping something good comes out).

Capricho Arabe was written in 1892 by Francisco Tarrega, who combined Spanish music with Arabian music. Playing Capricho Arabe on the ukulele means combining Spanish, Arabian, and Hawaiian influences, all in one piece.

I wrote this flash fiction piece for a competition with the prompt “promises.” I wanted to incorporate magical realism and somehow convey the personality of a secondary character through an inanimate object. So, I came up with this idea.

This film is about a ballet dancer losing one of the most important things in her life, one of her legs, and the chain of events that leads up to that tragic situation. Though she has been through a horrible accident, support from her mother helps her keep determination to try and get better.

Initially inspired by Hans Zimmer's score to 'Dune', Armada started as a one minute piano audio clip that I recorded in a practice room at school after the idea for the piece struck me.

This is a piece about growing up. I decided to compose a mini room using objects significant from my childhood. The vibrancy of the colors and surrealistic scale give the room a dreamlike quality, representative of core memories and the emotions of adolescence. I used figurines and toys I collected when I was younger, and I built other aspects of the room (including the chair and window) using cardboard followed by a paper mache process. After finishing the actual creation of the room, I photographed it and first made a black and white ink study of the lighting. Finally I painted the room using acrylic on an 18” x 24” sheet of gessoed watercolor paper. The entire process including building the room, photography, and the ink study took about 32 hours. The final painting took around 25 hours. I wanted to paint something representing the growing pains most teenagers experience. The happiness we can find in our nostalgia about the carefree innocent emotions that seemed so easy to access as children. Sometimes we find, in our reflection of the past, an escape from the responsibilities of growing up and the impending reality of adulthood.

This piece is a dedication to my abuelita Maria who passed away two-years ago in Mexico. The piece captures one of my most treasured moments with my abuelita. We are celebrating my 4th birthday in Mexico with my grandparents and extended family. The day was filled with balloons, cake, laughter, music and warm weather. My abuela stands lovingly next to me as my mother takes our picture. I miss my abuelita's laughter and her soft hands. My father misses her even more, he wasn't able to say goodbye to my abuela and had not been able to see her for over 16yrs when she passed away suddenly. We honor my abuela every year during dia de muertos and say "presente" after her name.

“Echo” is about a man who is codependent with technology. One day, he gets into an argument with a sentient AI assistant, and it ends up helping him realize what he can do to reclaim his humanity and connection with the real world. Although Mark’s experience is impossible, his way of life at the start of the story is reflected in many of our lives. During the COVID-19 pandemic, the gradual introduction of the internet to business, communications, and entertainment was accelerated rapidly. Due to quarantine policies that rendered in-person life very difficult, many Americans lived their lives through the web. Amidst the chaos of 2020, some people predicted digital life was a “new normal.” Although the pandemic did end, technology has irreversibly become a large, harmful presence in our country. Virtual life was and is not sustainable. Going outside, connecting with nature and each other in the real world, is a crucial part of our lives, and as technology encroaches more and more on our lives, it is more necessary than ever to hold onto our humanity. I hope that everyone who reads this script or sees it performed will be inspired to find some way to watch the ducks.

I gave the title “The Tejedora de Traditions’’ to my painting for the reason that younger generations do not always want to continue with the traditions of their ancestors, however, in my painting, there is a young woman weaving a traditional Guatemalan fabric. To me, she is a woman who found strength in her cultural traditions. To me, this represents opportunities for other people too. The subject of this painting is the women. She represents the hope that individuals will choose to embrace and preserve their traditions. I decided to represent this young girl who is weaving small strings into strong fabric. We all know that in society women and indigenous people tend to be discriminated against and their values that they have are trampled on just because of who they are, and how they were born. My painting symbolizes hope for people to get beyond this discrimination and find purpose in their roots. They can use the past to develop their future, and show the world that they matter. My painting has many bright colors and various textures, just like the diversity of people who are in this world. Cultures alone are beautiful, but even better and stronger when woven together. The small strings create bigger and more beautiful patterns. Each thread keeps its color and texture, but when they and all put together they make beautiful harmonious designs.

"like a stone or flower" encompasses a period of exploration within my filmmaking journey - utilizing documentary as an experimental method of storytelling and allowing myself to let the narrative flow naturally out of ideas stemming from conversations between myself and the artists I interviewed.

“Phenomenal” is a contemporary ballet work that examines the resilience and strength of women of color despite the societal biases that oppress them. In this piece, set to a rap by Vonii and inspired by Maya Angelou’s poem, “Phenomenal Woman,” my goal was to redefine the Westernized ideals of ballet that often exclude BIPOC dancers by deviating from traditional ballet lines and musicality, drawing from contemporary, jazz, and commercial styles.

“Trickle” is just that — a trickling melody, one that flows between different time signatures, styles, and instruments. The flow of the music is unrelenting, with the long, continuous lines meant to embody a stream of water.

The Covid Pandemic was officially declared over on May 11, 2023 by the federal COVID-19 PHE – yet so many around the world still suffer from it. It has disproportionately impacted many minority communities and called forth an onslaught of racially motivated violence, specifically towards Asian Americans. Despite us having the luxury to return back to our normal lives, many communities still face the issue of Covid. Coming out of the pandemic, the underserved are working multiple jobs while having enormous post pandemic debt. Walking through San Francisco, the impact is evident. Going from district to district you see the differing effects that covid has left. In ChinaTown, where this photo was taken, many people can be seen working tirelessly while wearing a mask. Even though Covid has left the minds of many of us, it is crucial to remember that we are just the fortunate few.

These poems were all written over the summer, inspired by my connections with the world around me. The first poem connects a thunderstorm I experienced in Missouri with the virtual world, describing the undercurrent of fear that runs through both. The second poem references my own incomplete sense of belonging, tying it both to the desert landscapes of California and the unknown vastness of outer space. The final poem is a reflection on what it's like for the memory of someone to be forgotten. Drawing upon the real examples of roadside cemeteries, I try to contemplate the impermanence of memory and the ease with which it is hidden.