Stories Behind the Art
Inspired by Orchids
My mother has always loved orchids. When I was growing up, she tended a whole garden full of them, filling our home with their delicate beauty. As she aged, caring for the garden became too demanding, and now only a few pots remain. I never quite inherited her green fingers, so these days my connection with orchids comes through visiting orchid shows and exhibitions.
In 2024, during one such visit, I was captivated by the grandeur of the giant Phalaenopsis flowers. Their elegance, vibrant colours, and graceful forms called out to me, and I felt compelled to paint one.
This painting is my way of preserving the beauty of the orchids and celebrating the inspiration they continue to bring — a gentle reminder of the gardens of my childhood and the enduring joy of nature’s artistry.
These orchids remind me of my mother’s garden and the quiet joy of nature’s beauty. May they bring the same delight and inspiration to everyone who sees them.
Touched by the Light
The Peonies of Home
I have always loved sunflowers. Their bright yellow petals are cheerful and full of life, always turning towards the light.
This painting holds a special place in my heart because I painted it twice. The second was for a dear friend who was undergoing treatment for cancer. During that season, I felt a gentle prompting to ask if she would like to choose one of my flower paintings as a gift.
Among the different flowers, she immediately chose the sunflower. What touched me deeply was her reason. She said the morning light shining through the centre of the flowers gave her hope that she would recover.
It was a privilege to paint the sunflower for her. In time, she completed her treatment and recovered.
Today, whenever I look at this painting, I remember her journey. It reminds me that even in life's most difficult seasons, hope can quietly take root. My prayer is that the light shining through these sunflowers will continue to bring hope, encouragement and healing to all who encounter it, just as it did for my friend.
For as long as I can remember, there was always a large arrangement of peony silk flowers in our home. When the flowers faded, my mother would lovingly replace them, keeping their beauty alive in our living space.
My mother was a first-generation migrant from China to Singapore. As she arranged the peonies, she often shared stories of her homeland and her love for these flowers.
Life was not easy for her. Like many migrants of her generation, she built a new life far from family during Singapore’s early years. Through it all, the peonies remained a quiet source of comfort and joy.
At the beginning of 2024, during a difficult season for my family, I felt a gentle prompting from the Holy Spirit to paint the peony.
As the painting took shape, the three blossoms at its centre came to represent my family. Rays of sunlight through the trees became a quiet reminder that God was watching over us, even in uncertain times.
This painting carries a message of assurance for me—that even in difficult seasons, there is still light, hope, and a loving presence watching over those we cherish.
A Panda for the Children
Dolphins have always been my favourite sea
animals. I love the way they seem to be constantly smiling and the joy they express when they leap out of the water.
When I was raising my own children, I shared this love of dolphins with them. We watched many documentaries and movies about these fascinating creatures, and on one memorable trip to Bali, we even went dolphin watching together.
So when I was invited to do a live painting during a church service for Mother’s Day and felt inspired to paint dolphins, I was thrilled.
In this painting, I imagined a mother dolphin leaping joyfully over her young one. As a mother of four, I know how easily we can become caught up in the busyness of caring for our children and fulfilling the many responsibilities of motherhood. Sometimes, in the midst of all that activity, we forget the simple joy our children bring into our lives.
My hope is that this painting reminds every mother who sees it of that joy, and that every child who looks at it will know that they are a wonderful source of happiness in their mother’s heart.
Some years ago, while introducing Chinese brush painting to my K1 and K2 children, I used the works of Wu Guanzhong as part of our exploration. Through paintings such as Spring Snow and Spring, the children discovered the expressive possibilities of the Chinese brush and created their own interpretations using watercolours.
Many of the children were especially drawn to Wu Guanzhong’s panda paintings and eagerly wanted to paint pandas of their own. Although I knew it would be challenging, their enthusiasm was hard to resist.
As it turned out, painting pandas proved more difficult than expected, and some of the children became discouraged. Wanting to cheer them up, I painted a small picture of a baby panda with its mother on a round Chinese fan. When I showed it to the children, their faces immediately lit up.
I enjoyed painting it too and later created a larger version of the image. That painting later found a special place in my pastor’s Mother’s Day message—a gentle reminder of the warmth, protection, and love between a mother and child.
A Mother's Joy
The Gift of the Jar
I had a live painting session coming up and was praying about what I should paint. During that time, I received an image of an earthen jar pouring a stream of golden liquid onto flowers that were growing and blossoming in a planter during a church service. I sensed that this was the image I was meant to paint for the upcoming session.
Almost at once, another idea came to mind. Nearly a year earlier, I had watched a video online showing how air-dried clay could be used to create a mixed-media artwork. I had been curious to try it ever since but never found the right opportunity. This seemed like the perfect moment.
Feeling excited, I went out to buy a round framed wooden board and the clay needed for the project. With the help of my husband, I began sculpting the earthen jar using wire, metal netting, and clay. After that, I shaped the brick planter wall where the flowers would grow. The whole process turned into quite an adventure as the piece slowly came to life.
I am grateful for the new experiences that came with creating this artwork. It felt as though God had remembered that small desire in my heart when I first saw that video and gently created the opportunity for me to try it through this piece.
In 2024, I arranged a learning journey to the Rose Romance floral display at Gardens by the Bay for the K1 and K2 children at Character Montessori. During our visit, one feature especially caught my attention—a beautiful pillar wrapped in climbing roses, standing quietly among the blooms.
After the trip, I felt inspired to paint the pillar as a way of capturing the beauty and atmosphere of what we had experienced together. I also wanted the children to see how something we encounter in real life can be interpreted through the eyes of an artist and transformed into a painting—how artists observe, reflect, and express ideas through colour, shape, and imagination.
After completing the artwork, I conducted an Art Appreciation 101 session with the children. During the lesson, we explored questions such as:
Do you prefer the painting or the photograph?
What do you like or dislike about each?
How are they different?
Through this experience, I hoped the children would learn that their ideas and interpretations matter, and that there is no single “right” way to appreciate art.
On 21 December 2025, Soakability Church held its final service before closing, as our pastor prepared to move into a new season of ministry.
Although the prophetic art team was not scheduled to paint that Sunday, our team leader invited me to create a live painting during the farewell service. When I mentioned it to my husband, he suggested painting the lampstand (menorah) from Zechariah 4, a passage he had been studying. He felt it would be a fitting parting gift to the congregation, symbolising the presence and work of God's Spirit.
I was hesitant because I was unfamiliar with the imagery, but my husband surprised me by offering to help. Trained in oil painting and sketching, he had artistic experience of his own, yet we had never collaborated on a painting before
So, for the first time, we painted live together during a church service.
The lampstand was painted by him, with bold, confident strokes that captured the essence of the subject. The background and olive trees were my contribution, with finer details, softer blending, and a more layered approach.
What amazes me most about this painting is not the artwork itself, but the experience of creating it together. Despite the pressure of short runway for preparation and a live service, we completed the painting without a single argument. For me, that was a beautiful reminder of God's grace at work—not only in the painting, but also in our partnership.
Our Parting Gift
Art Appreciation 101 with Roses
Like many artists, I can easily see the areas where this painting could have been improved. The weeping sakura blossoms could have had more depth, the flooring more detail, and some of the figures more refinement. Yet despite its imperfections, this remains one of my most cherished paintings.
The first reason is Nikon, our family dog. This was the first time I included him in one of my paintings. He is about 14 years old now (in 2026), and while I know the day will come when he is no longer with us, this painting allows me to preserve a precious memory of him alongside Jesus and me.
The second reason is the sense of peace the painting brings me. Whenever I look at it, I am reminded that I do not have to carry every burden on my own. I can let my guard down, lean into His broad shoulders, and trust that everything will be alright.
For me, this painting is less about artistic perfection and more about love, comfort, and the assurance of His presence.
Something I Cherish
