Creating Between Two Worlds: My Journey as a Chinese Artist in New York

When people ask me where I’m from, the answer is never just one place.

I carry Taiwan in my language.I carry New York in my rhythm.I carry memories that belong to one culture, and ambitions shaped by another.

Living and creating between two worlds is both grounding and disorienting.

And it has deeply shaped the way I make music.

Writing in Chinese in an English City

New York moves in English.

Subway announcements.Coffee orders.Conversations on sidewalks.Lyrics floating out of open car windows.

But when I sit down to write, my emotions often arrive in Chinese.

Some feelings simply exist more naturally in my mother tongue.Certain phrases carry softness or depth that translation cannot fully hold.

At times, I’ve wondered:Will people here understand?Will they connect to lyrics they don’t speak?

But music has taught me something important.

Emotion travels beyond language.

You may not know every word, but you recognize longing.You recognize hope.You recognize reflection.

The melody carries what translation cannot.

The Gift of Perspective

Living between cultures changes the way you see the world.

In Taiwan, I learned subtlety.Restraint.Listening before speaking.

In New York, I learned boldness.Expression.Taking creative risks without waiting for permission.

When these two energies meet in my music, something unique happens.

The structure may feel Western.The emotional storytelling may feel Eastern.The result feels like a bridge.

And I’ve come to realize — being in between is not a weakness.

It’s a gift.

Performing in a City That Never Sleeps

There is something quietly powerful about performing original Chinese music in New York.

In a city known for speed and intensity, singing in my native language feels like carving out a personal space within the noise.

It reminds me that identity doesn’t dissolve when you move.It evolves.

Each performance becomes a conversation:

Between past and present.Between where I started and where I am now.Between cultures that once felt separate but now coexist within me.

Finding Belonging Through Sound

There were moments when I felt suspended between places.

Not fully here.Not fully there.

But music became the place I belonged.

At the piano, geography fades.Language becomes texture.Memory becomes melody.

I no longer have to choose one side of myself.

I can hold both.

The Beauty of Being In Between

For a long time, I thought clarity meant choosing.

Choosing one language.One style.One audience.One identity.

But growth has taught me something softer.

I don’t need to compress who I am to fit a single category.

I can write Chinese lyrics in New York.I can blend classical piano with modern production.I can carry tradition while embracing innovation.

Being in between is not confusion.

It is expansion.

If you’ve ever lived between cultures, between languages, between versions of yourself — you understand.

It can feel lonely.But it can also be beautiful.

Because in that in-between space, something new is born.

And for me, that something is music.