At age three, I knew exactly what I want to be when I grew up. I wanted to be an artist and I wanted to go to America. Since that time, I have walked a winding path, narrow and steep. More than half a century has passed. I am here in America and I am now an artist. In my journey, I shed many skins and through much pain. America became home and art became the world. I am about to shed my skin one more time, wondering if people might not recognize me after that. My soul might go back to the place where I was a little boy, dreaming away. And I know I will be standing in a place neither East nor West.