After the death of my father, I started to question things, from the most mundane to the most personal. 

One of the questions that kept on lingering since his passing was if I am really destined to be a visual artist. This singular question became too heavy, almost a burden, that I had to battle with alongside depression, while accepting the hard reality of losing someone during an unfortunate lockdown. 

To be very honest, that particular phase, though still not over, was remarkably dark. I was almost trapped in a claustrophobic space with huge walls around me. I was in a constant state of numbness, to the point that even closing my eyes to sleep was too difficult. Everyday, the pain consumed me, bit by bit. Everyday, the longing to see my father was the only feeling I was familiar with. Everyday, I felt like there was a huge wall in my way, and sadly, I cannot seem to move past it.

Despite the insurmountable pain, one day, I  decided to keep it to myself since I had to be strong for my family, which I have been doing since the time my father was diagnosed with cancer. Even if the days kept going, I was not actually living. I was just going by with the day’s routine, succumbing to the growing emptiness, which will never be filled in. 

One of those days, I kept coming back to my last conversations with my father. Those conversations are very evocative and vivid, as if they were only shared yesterday. As my constant enabler, he told me how proud he was of me, of my creativity, and most importantly, of my will. He told me to continue to strive for greatness and humility, always.

As a creative and personal response to turn such pivotal pain in my life into something that would make my father proud of me, I courageously decided to channel everything into a collection that would sum up and represent my current journey of struggles and healing in both life and art. 

In my previous works, my art primarily focused on geometric but minimalist landscape using psychedelic palette to excite people’s perception and imagination. But this current life phase challenged my maturity and growth as an artist. It allowed me to deconstruct what I know about art making, and to re-visit why and how I use my brushstrokes to visually tell and share my story.

In “Nothing Is The Same Again,” my most personal exhibition yet, I painted my yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

It is no secret that I started painting paper cranes when my father was diagnosed with cancer. It is believed that when you make a thousand cranes, your deepest wish will be granted; and you all know what I would have wished for then. But sadly, the cancer spread too fast before I could even complete the one-thousandth paper crane. When I realized that I would never get my wish come true, I decided to use the art and power of paper cranes in my own healing and living.

This special online exhibition is also a tribute to everyone who is going through tough and rough times in this pandemic. All of us has lost something in this pandemic. One way or another, we lost something personal and precious which we can never retrieve back. A loved one whom we cherish. A job which kept our family alive. A dream which we worked hard for. 

Today, as I officially open my online exhibition, allow me to dedicate this special moment to celebrate the life of my father who is celebrating his birthday today in heaven. May each artwork express my deepest gratitude to him for bringing me back to life and to my art. Even if “Nothing Is The Same Again” without him, I would continue to live and paint for as long as I live.

-Ryan Uy