I have always found it difficult to describe my family—the people closest to me. It is all the more difficult to capture or portray them visually. Family members have influenced everything I do: we are so similar, we share so much, and we are constantly growing individually and together. How could one drawing or painting express what my family is like? This struggle to characterize family members in my artwork has pushed me away from representing them directly, and as a young child, I turned to the Chinese zodiac animals as a solution.
I can recall the exact moment I grew fascinated with the Chinese zodiac. Visiting a restaurant as a seven-year-old, I still remember the glow of the neon-lit fish tank, the feeling of crisp disposable chopsticks, the smoothness of the white teacups, and of course the sloppy English translations on the menu. But as someone stimulated by visual cues and items, my eyes fixed on the waxy paper placemats laying underneath the plates and bowls. Catching my attention, these particular placemats depicted the zodiac, complete with a wheel of animals and accompanying descriptions. In Chinese culture, the zodiac cycles through twelve years of the lunar calendar, with an animal symbolizing each year. Often, those following Chinese culture feel some sort of guidance based on the zodiac, heeding the various superstitions and personality traits associated with each animal.
Running my hand along the placemat to find the year 2000, my fingers traced upward to the dragon—my zodiac sign. The drawing of the dragon on the paper enchanted me immediately. After all, I loved all animals and creatures, but dragons were among those with the most powerful and fantastical characteristics. And I, a seven-year-old boy, was born in the year of this mythical beast. I then searched for the zodiac animals representing the rest of my immediate family: tiger and snake. Turning to my mom and asking her questions, I moved my finger over to the horse, the rooster, the dog, and the monkey—animals for those in my extended family. After our meal, I remember excitedly requesting a clean placemat from the waiter, which I promptly rolled up, brought home, and replicated meticulously on to printer paper over the next week. I would spend the next weeks admiring my new recreation of the zodiac and continuing to practice drawing dragons, tigers, and snakes.
From this moment onward, I cannot even count the number of times where I have depicted family members through their zodiac signs. I had always drawn animals in my free time, finding joy in exploring the forms behind every wonder of the animal kingdom. Since I lacked the technical ability to depict faces accurately, zodiac animals created the perfect outlet for me to comfortably “illustrate” people. To those in my family, zodiac animals soon took on great significance in birthday cards and other drawings. I became a mischievous dragon. My dad, born in the year of the tiger, always made an appearance as a ferocious tiger, and my older brother, born under the same sign, was more playful. A graceful snake represented my mom. Within my family, I defined everyone visually through their zodiac sign, attempting to convey an identity through a symbolic animal.
For many years, I continued to prefer this method when portraying my family, varying the complexity and style of the animals each year. Some years I would draw a snarling tiger in ink, but other years I would use Chinese painting to illustrate a pensive tiger atop a mountain. But in the past few years, I have reevaluated the reason why I always viewed my family through zodiac signs. Of course, as a seven-year-old, I had no better way to capture them satisfactorily, but now, as an adult, was it time to change? To me, family portraits of zodiac animals seemed to neglect certain aspects of my family’s characterization. People are always changing, getting older, learning more, and I am always getting to know them better. A painting of an animal can only express so much of that change; I can’t quite show that an animal has just graduated high school, or that its homemade food is the best I have ever tasted. With age I began to wrestle with these thoughts while also improving my artistic ability. Practicing my ability to use portraiture to capture other people’s likeness and my understanding of who they are, I could finally achieve what I avoided as a child. Instead of substituting family members for animals, I could simply paint them as people.
Yet at the same time, I still feel great attachment to these zodiac signs. Perhaps it’s because I put so much effort into these drawings of my family for so many years, but they have played an irreplaceable role in my life as an artist and a family member. In my mind, my dad, brother, and mom’s zodiac animals define them. Although I could simply draw their faces this time, my artwork would feel incomplete if I abandoned the animals that I fondly grew to see my family through.
With these reflections, I have created this series of artworks. It ultimately emerges from the reconciliation of these two compelling forces in my exploration as an artist and family member. I am still drawn to the connection between my family and the zodiac signs, acknowledging the very reason seven-year-old Erik found it possible to artistically depict his family. But now that I’ve grown older, I am searching for and improving upon ways to illustrate these people that are closest to me. From the beginning of this journey to now, this fact will never change: I have always viewed my family as most precious in my life. The question always depended on how I could express this sentiment. And while I still believe it’s impossible to perfectly describe or capture the people whose values I live by, whose praise and conversely criticism determines my state of mind, whose love and support for me feels so boundless, I believe that I have painted my family to the best of my ability, in all of its beauty, love, familiarity, and likeness.
I hope these artworks provide even just a small view into who they are. This is my Family Zoudiac.
Erik is a freshman at Harvard who enjoys finding beauty in everyday matters.