Original Art Stories - Xueling Zou

We traveled from Antigua, Lake Atitlan, Chichicastenango, Xela, Coban, Flores, Tikal, Rio Dulce, and Livingston for 14 days in Guatemala last year, because the airline ticket was on sale. We did not even have more than 10 words in Spanish, and you can imagine it was not an easy trip especially during the low season. Guatemala really is a beautiful country! Unfortunately, what we saw was how hard the people have been working since they were still very young. Making a living is very tough for most families. Everywhere we went, the local kids surrounded me and called me "China, China,..." in Spanish! I wish I was able to understand a little bit more about what they tried to say. They were so friendly to me, and very deeply touched my heart...Like most of Chinese, I am not afraid eating and trying all kinds of food. Because we faced a lot of stresses with language barrier, all the bus connections, which were never on schedule and our traveler's checks did not work or

(Please click the image to enlarge) I just posted a new oil portrait, here is the story behind: Sunday, July 17, 2011, I went to Los Altos farmers market. A beautiful blues voice and music attracted my attention. I walked close by and saw a young girl playing saxophone, and an older guy singing... I heard the drummer playing amazingly too, but could not see anyone there from the crowd. Unfortunately, it was the last song, and the singer announced that the drummer was 4 years old. It was hard to believe, but it was true. It was around noon. I saw this little shy mixed boy was holding his mother's hand, standing under the Californian strong sun shining down on his head, while his mother was busy answering questions from other people. I tried very hard to capture the boy's face, and imagined the bright future ahead of him... Sorry I didn't get their band's name, I am sure there are a lot of other people who know:-)! Please view a better image at: http://f

What a great inspiration! Unknown in advance, I had seen the Pacific Voyagers and seven boats at Monterey Bay, California! August 13, 2011, late afternoon sun shone on the weekend Monterey beach. I saw some unusual boats, actually ancient looking boats, mostly like the boats made by Maori people from New Zealand, anchored to the beach in the bay. I was so attracted by the beauty of those boats, and a couple of handsome sailors paddling people back and forth from the beach to the boats. I didn't want to miss this good opportunity, and started shooting... A local lady chatted with me that these were Pacific Voyagers - a group of Pacific Islanders from Aotearoa (New Zealand), Cook Islands, Fiji, Samoa, Tahiti, Papua New Guinea, Solomon Islands, Kiribati, Vanuatu, and Tonga. They started in April of this year, passing the Marquesas, and Hawaii on their journey. Also she said that I missed seeing the landing, which was a traditional American Indian ceremony for welcom

I am a right-handed person. Especially writing in Chinese, parents have to train us from a very young age, and make sure we all use our right hands correctly. Painting itself is an art, there is no right or wrong answer for any result, just like every single individual, we all have our own characters. Being a visual artist, how we can well present our artistic style takes a lifetime to find out. Though as time passes styles change as well. I don't like to get stuck with the same style and same color tone, that would be too boring for me. Change is an excitement in life, of course it could be painful sometimes. But I enjoy doing something different all the time, that is my style I believe. I don't think I could run out of ideas, maybe that is my creative "problem" :-). So, I painted these works with my left hand. I was so frustrated holding my brush, as an adult starting to train my brain to do something really odd. I remember that my brush jumped out of my lef

Rain of Leaves It's raining big, It's raining small, It's raining autumn leaves In fall. It's raining gold And red and brown as autumn leaves come raining down. It's raining everywhere I look It's raining bookmarks On my book! I've found Aileen Fisher's Rain of Leaves perfectly fits into the weather these days and my capture, simple and delightful. It brings me back to my childhood... Please view a better image or more photos at my Photography - Scapes Gallery:  http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/xueling-zou.html?tab=artworkgalleries&artworkgalleryid=65149

It has been 10 years now since I started painting both oils and watercolors. I have been too busy to focus on oil, and have almost forgot that I paint watercolor as well. If you are curious for the reason, you can read my "A White Peacock" story in this blog. Still I remember at the very beginning, I did not know any watercolor techniques, just followed my feeling and basic idea to draw the structure on the paper and fill in colors which I thought were right. That was how I created my watercolors then, can you believe it? Now, I look back at my original work, and realize that I may really have some artistic talent as told by many people, but which I personally have always had doubts about. Of course, if you never try and you never know. I really have been learning a long and tough way in life so far. And also, I believe that it is the greatest tip just keep doing and working hard... Just as Robert Goddard said "It is difficult to say what is impossible, for the dream of

I am not I. I am this one walking beside me whom I do not see, whom at times I manage to visit, and whom at other times I forget; who remains calm and silent while I talk, and forgives, gently, when I hate, who walks where I am not, who will remain standing when I die. My painting was inspired by the poem of Juan Ramon Jimenez "I Am Not I", translated by Robert Bly. Please view a better image at: http://fineartamerica.com/featured/i-am-not-i-xueling-zou.html

This is one of my first paintings from when I started almost 10 years ago.  I aimed to capture the old Beijing culture with an old man and his bicycle. Typically the retired people enjoy hobbies like carrying pet birds in cages to nearby parks for a morning walk, Chigong, chat, chess game with others... Often they would carry small radios to listen to their favorite channels playing Chinese operas, traditional novels or historical stories. Afternoons would pass with a nap in the park or sitting out enjoying sunlit porches. My painting expresses a moment typical of a day like this in Beijing where I was born and grew up. Please view a better image at:  http://fineartamerica.com/featured/old-man-and-his-bike-xueling-zou.html .   Please view more photos at my Photography - China Gallery: http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/xueling-zou.html?tab=artworkgalleries&artworkgalleryid=47756

(Please click the image to enlarge) The Chinese Moon Festival (also called the Mooncake or Mid-Autumn festival) is held on the 15th day of the eighth month in the Chinese calendar, fell on September 12, 2011. When the moon is at its maximum brightness for the entire year, the Chinese celebrate "zhong qiu jie". Chinese culture is deeply imbedded in traditional festival. The Moon Festival is one of the most important traditional events, just like Christmas and Thanksgiving in the West. The legend surrounding this occasion is about a beautiful lady named "chang er", who flew to the moon with her beloved rabbit named "yu tu" whose coat was pure white as white jade and they have lived there forever. Children are told the story of the moon fairy living in a crystal palace, who comes out to dance on the moon's shadowed surface. The moon cake is the food for the Moon Festival. The Chinese families hold reunions together spending their evening t

I remember that my father took me to the Beijing Zoo when I was about five one Sunday morning. There were about 20 peacocks that lived on a bird island with a hundred other birds, like crays, swans, ducks, etc... When we arrived, there were some parents with their children watching birds - especially the peacocks. I was told that the peacocks might open up their feathers when they saw pretty colors. Some parents would dress up their children with colorful clothes, but I only wore in my father's favorite color, sky blue. We both mentioned the same white peacock was our favorite. It seemed that white peacock heard us and turned around facing me, then opened up its feathers immediately. A lot of people clapped their hands for what they saw - the most glorious shining feathers opening up against the morning sunlight - like a Chinese fan. Of course to me as a little girl, it was the most beautiful and precious moment to experience joy with my father when he big and strong hand was holdi