A content shaper wandering around the world.


Gee, I planned to write something to down as an intro to this site, to guide you through all these pages and represent myself in a professional way. Didn’t know in the end I wrote another confession for/to myself, but, maybe this is a more honest way to tell you the truth about me ..

Born in Urumqi, the capital city of China’s NorthWest nomadic provinces Xin Jiang, I moved to Shanghai, Hong Kong and Germany later in my life.

It was in a methodology class in graduate school in Chinese University of Hong Kong, in which the professor introduced a little personality test game, Jung’s archetype test, did I learn that I am a seeker: the type of person who travels afar to find the doorway to ultimate truth or happiness. It is kind of funny since according to Chinese astrology, the Northern Star also fell on the Nomadic House when I was born.

So, I travelled and never stopped, not only on geographic territories, but also dug into various disciplines and never fully committed. Over the years, I was an academic book editor, a Taoist researcher, a movie script writer, a journalist of international desk, a cultural critic, a translator, a curator, a creative writer, a podcaster, and on and off , a graduate student.

A seeker, however, never finds full satisfaction from all these dots she hit in her journey, the alluring award waits for her somewhere beyond the vista, tempting her to start again. These years, I started to think all human, including me are not really the subjects of the world we inhabit in. Like a fossil, a paper, a tweet, or just a wispier, we are nothing but a medium that stories travel through. I am just an empty pocket walking on the road, collecting wind, seeds, laughters and dreams, tears and sorrows and inventing my own recipe to cook them into a tasty dish, and deliver it to the next stop.

Very often when I just departed for the next adventure, I encounter a few emotional setbacks; because that’s usually when the pocket, me, is emptied again: I just finished an exhibition, wrote a story, released a podcast, or designed a game. What’s left for me is perhaps a couple of joyful memories, but they are always so epiphanic in nature that almost taste like a dream that never happened in first place.

What now? Who is the person that left here?

Borges comes in handy in such lonely moment, as he wrote: “Your matter is time, ceaselessTime. You are each solitary moment.” Time, I am always fascinated in reading about time. Henri Bergson, the French philosopher minded us to carefully separate time from its spatial representation, believes that we cannot really measure “each solitary moment” the way we measure a building, but we do know we experienced time as durations. And life, the majestic monster, is shaped by the mixture of countless durations, the way a concerto is composed of numerous music notes performed in live.

Such philosophy eases me, a seeker. As much as stories and information transcend time and space though me, I am also living my life through them. It is ultimately a meaningless project to build oneself a website, a tomb, a wikipedia page, a archive, to try to seize these durations and crystalize them, just like the way life is meaningless. It is though a mundanely (and psychologically) pragmatic thing to do, for it reminds me who I was before I am gone…

Gee, I planned to write something to down as an intro to this site, to guide you through all these pages and represent myself in a professional way. Didn’t know in the end I wrote another confession for/to myself, but, maybe this is a more honest way to tell you the truth about me ..

You substitute the path for the journey, and because the journey is subtended by the path you think the two coincide. ——-Bergson