I carved the Chinese name given to me by my great-grandma into a bar of soap I bought in Chinatown -- I liked the idea of handling the name I’ve had little connection to in my life, while at the same time allowing it to morph and dis/appear with each wash. I cleaned myself with the name or from the name, or both. And, the soap itself -- the soap label says it is the #1 brand of soap imported from China since the early 1900s -- stands as another layer that speaks of imperialism and cleansing in relation to 'whiteness'. I see the piece as an illustration of the many identities one can have, and sometimes, what you wish to be there never shows up. The tiring process (it involved squatting, kneeling, jumping) of inking up the soap after it being carved and using it as a stamp -- then washing my hands with the soap after each inking -- to me, is more the piece than the leftover evidence of stamps. ​

after four months