Being separated from my home country, Taiwan, for the first time, I consider my personal experience in relation to that of my immigrant relatives, who have been here longer and assimilated into American life. I explore the spaces of houses—both imaginary, as in my daydreams, and real, as in the homes of my relatives. In my treatment of space, distortion is a major character in these narratives. The tilted perspective in the first series reflects my solitary life, and the shaped canvases imply my position as an outsider. The barred window, culturally significant in Taiwan, is the residual memory, covering the present. The homes my relatives build become their homeland, while their childhood memories bear the mark of infinity and linger in the immediate world.