When I was making “Temple” I was struck by the impact of a  big storm on Kyoto. Everything was in chaos. So I was thinking about how the  tree branches and mosses were being cleared out and pruned back into shape, and  how those forms related to the fractal geometry in Hokusai’s “Great Wave,”  another moment of environmental chaos.

Flow as the basis for being or becoming emerges naturally from the chaotic and ordered, entropic and emergent interactions of ink in water. I believe that ink and water can reveal the connection between our living environment and our lived experience in a way that seeks communication or communion rather than control.

The embodied experience of light and shadow have functioned as central metaphors throughout the history of philosophy from Shakyamuni Buddha’s “Shadow Cave” to Plato’s “Cave of Shadows.” Only Zhuangzi, however, makes the penumbra—the luminous border between light and shadow—his central image for our existence; it being at once entirely co-emergent and co-dependent on the world from which it emerges and yet entirely self-realizing and self-so within its own experiential context.

Black bleeds into white with a liquid grace. The surface of the rice paper becomes mountain ranges, valleys, and striated ground, shuddering as it swells with ink. A formless horizon, a flash of light, blinding white gives way to a hand holding an invisible brush, painting the shadow forms of mountains and water—shan-shui, the Chinese word that signifies landscape. This landscape, however, is not primarily composed of images. It is a series of homologous flows and processes that give way to shape-shifting forms. It is an amalgam of intensities flowing at a common frequency. Busy red blood cells merge and morph into vermilion ink moving in rivulets across rice paper, swollen with fluid.

Wall of Skies is not about dualities, but continuities and fluidities. It features a monumental, multi-planar work of ink on paper within a constructed enclosure of a semi-reflective floor and slanted walls. The walls draws us along its rising and falling contours, and close towards its surface textures-vein-like fractal patterns and creases created through the absorption of ink by fibrous xuan paper. Despite its industrial scale and fabrication, its ethereal illumination recalls the West Coast light and space movement and, more distantly, the atmospheric effects of the artist's home of the San Francisco Bay Area. Without one-point perspective and architectural framing, the space is remarked by continually navigating the installation at different scales and from different vantages.

Art on the MART is the largest permanent digital art projection in the world, projecting contemporary artwork across the 2.5-acre river-façade of theMART.

Clusters of Memory incorporates elements such as ink, water, acrylic, paper, and light to emphasize memory in its physical form as a neural function, and in its less concrete forms as shared experiences and transmitted remembrances. The juxtaposition of digital and natural components renders the presumed boundary between organic life forms and technology more permeable, perhaps suggesting a greater, unified whole.

White Ink, the Painter is Absent. White Ink debuts fifteen new works Zheng created as a site-specific installation that includes video projections and paintings.

By removing the control of the content, size, timing, color, this work serves as an arbitrary devise that manifested the adaptabilities with restriction to others or even to the self. It projects a type of living environment whether the consequences of our ideas are accepted or rejected.  As a form of censoring devise, it is an inhibiting force in mind that transform into our daily life.