Web designer.
Multidisciplinary visual artist.
Collector of creative contradictions.
Many people think building a website is similar to building a social media presence, but there's a major difference. Social media platforms are owned by profit-driven companies that control everything, and can kick you out or change the rules anytime, leaving you with zero ownership or control. A website, however, is part of a decentralized web made up of millions of individually-owned sites, where you actually own your content, design, and audience relationships.
As artists and creators, the web is an incredible opportunity to create something of our own, instead of feeding the corporate platforms that want us to be content machines. In making a website, ou're carving out a home on the internet where you get to decide everything: how it looks, what content you publish, how people navigate it, and what rules apply.
In a capitalist world of one-dimensional websites designed to grab attention in 3 seconds flat and push people through sales funnels, you can create a space that feels like a gift to arrive at. Your website could feel like stepping into your creative studio, browsing through your personal library, or wandering through your community garden. You could build a digital space that actually reflects what your business is in real life—an expressive, welcoming place where people can hang out, experience something meaningful, or learn something new. My goal is to help you create something alive and fluid, always evolving to hold all the different sides of who you are and what you do.
The best part? When you focus on creating something genuinely worth spending time in, the right people find you naturally. They stick around because your digital space feels real, feels human, feels like a place they want to return to. And when you leave people feeling connected, valued, and seen—the sale will take care of itself.
I'm living proof that you don't have to choose just one thing. My art practice includes brush calligraphy, figure painting, neon bending, type design, analog photography, and probably three more mediums by the time you read this. Each one informs and enriches the others.
This is why I believe in integrated brand experiences rather than fragmented digital identities. There's a golden thread connecting everything you do, and that thread is your competitive advantage. Letting your audience see the full human behind the work isn't just about "being authentic"—it's essential to business. While AI and machines can mimic techniques, they can't replicate your lived experience and interconnected passions that makes people want to connect with you specifically.
I've been dancing since 2007, when dance saved my life during my darkest periods. It taught me that creativity isn't just what we make—it's how we move through the world. This is why flow and rhythm aren't just aesthetic choices in my work; they're foundational principles.
Growing up speaking Cantonese while learning to navigate English, and then French, gave me an early appreciation for language. Now, as I'm learning to read Chinese, the visual poetry of every character leaves me in awe.
My ADHD brain might not be built for corporate productivity systems, but it's perfectly designed for seeing connections others miss, for diving deep into creative obsessions, and for holding multiple ideas simultaneously without needing them to make logical sense.