This image was born out of the stereotype that Asian women have tight vaginas. Immigration can feel like being born as a new person. When I started the piece, I had just gotten a new passport. It was a painstaking process, finding a place to take Chinese passport photos that are the correct size for the consulate in NYC. The passport photos I used in this piece are all the leftover incorrect size photos that I gathered throughout the process. Immigrating to America means becoming an “Asian” and all the stereotypes that come with it. Passport is the medium of getting reborn in a new country, with labia made out of “Asian” fabrics and a clitoris made out of the American flag. The painting is so personal that I used my own hairs as the pubic hairs. I was an individual in China and now I am an Asian American woman. The irony is that through all the pain, all we want to do is to please the American psyche and assimilate.  

It was hard to name what I was feeling in 2020 with quarantine, more black people dying from police brutality, and the election. I started painting this piece during a fight I had with my partner about racial justice. I was letting the emotions out loose on canvas. Then I tried to convert the image into something joyful and bright. The painting ended during another fight and I turned to this painting again. My hairdresser mentioned once that in some cultures hair symbolizes grief, so I liberally spread black paint, glue and my hair with my hands as if grief is eating away the colors underneath. Grief is an overwhelming emotion but that’s what 2020 felt like.

I noticed a trend on social media where there’s an obsession with butts that look like peaches and many people use the peach emoji to caption images of their bodies. Who am I if I am reduced to just one part of my body? I find the representation of one’s body with the peach emoji fascinating, but also wonder about the implications of such representations in informing rape culture and other types of violence against women. I wanted the peach juice to look like blood and cum simultaneously to show the sexual violence often resulted from casual objectification of women. I layered my face on the top, so it looks like I am bleeding as a part of the peaches. 

Every East Asian American probably has some kind of experience with the C-word. I layered the racial slur with a phrase that my dad used to describe me in an argument: 没本事 - with no essential ability. Both my dad's harsh words and this racial slur made me feel helpless, that I have no ability to change anything. I wanted to bring light to my pain and frustration when I had these encounters because they deserve to be seen and heard. I sometimes fear that this painting is too dark or too personal but isn't that part of sharing my voice? Every part of my story matters, even the dark and unpleasant parts.  

Many people use the word foreign when describing my name. In this painting, I used pieces of my visas to show the fragmentation in the idea of being foreign or “fresh-off-the-boat”, contrasting with imagery that symbolize America. I also wanted to reflect how the US continues to treat and portray other Chinese and Chinese Americans as foreign even though some of us have been here since the 19th century.