Yiyao Fu
As an illustrator, I aspire to create illustration work that communicates either the specific content of the subject matter that inspires reflection and critical thinking, or the involved emotions that connect people.
Recently I have been drawn to the sequential and narrative illustration projects, exploring how the image can inform the reader; to what extent I — the Illustrator — have the power to influence the reader’s experience of the narrative — moving from image-to-image, page-to-page, and through the spaces and time within the narrative.
Hello Mist
Hello Mist is my graduate project. It is a comic book aimed at teenagers and young adults that explores their handling of interpersonal relationship dilemmas and their own inner struggles. The story revolves around a girl facing a crisis in her friendship and the negative emotions involved.
In the project I personify the negative side of human nature as a character named “Mist”. The protagonist confronts her “Mist”, she meets it, is controlled by it, must face a direct mental collision with it and make difficult choices. This story is based on my observations and research into the human psyche, combined with my own reflections and leading me to the insights I present in this story.
Tagore’s Variation
A comic strip based on Rabindranath Tagore’s poems. Produced on the workshop with Jon McNaught, published on our self-published magazine Sprung.
Stray Birds 152
This is a dream in which things are all loose and they oppress.
I shall find them gathered in thee when I awake and shall be free.
Gitanjali 81
On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time. But it is never lost, my lord. Thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands.
Hidden in the heart of things thou art nourishing seeds into sprouts, buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness.
I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed and imagined all work had ceased. In the morning I woke up and found my garden full with wonders of flowers.
Gitanjali 24
If the day is done, if birds sing no more, if the wind has flagged tired, then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me, even as thou hast wrapt the earth with the coverlet of sleep and tenderly closed the petals of the drooping lotus at dusk.
From the traveller, whose sack of provisions is empty before the voyage is ended, whose garment is torn and dust-laden, whose strength is exhausted, remove shame and poverty, and renew his life like a flower under the cover of thy kindly night.
