Text and interview by Hong Weiser
 
A kaleidoscope of colors reveals familiar silhouettes: Snow White, the Ninja Turtles, and other cartoon characters emerge from the patterns. Look closer, and you'll discover these images are actually composed of many painted ang-á-phiau—traditional circular cardboard discs decorated with vibrant designs, similar to Western pogs.
 
These mesmerizing compositions are part of Lin Ching-Fong's (林慶芳) 2014 series Love of Taifong: Aun-A-piao (台風之戀：尪仔標). As layers of discs swirl together, they transform beloved cartoon characters and vintage toys into something entirely new, triggering waves of childhood nostalgia and cultural memory in a celebration of creativity and whimsy.

From Gallery Art to Wedding Design
Stepping into Lin's studio in Qiaotou, is like traveling back in time to Taiwan of the 1950s and '60s. Vintage treasures fill the space—rotary phones, boxy CRT televisions, and a classic Vespa—revealing his deep connection to this bygone era. "I'm drawn to old things, to that handmade quality," Lin says. "Today's world may be more high-tech, but objects from the past carry more of a human touch."
 
Lin, born in Kaohsiung in 1984, earned his fine arts degree from National Chiayi University (NCYU) and was later accepted into the Graduate Institute of Plastic Arts at Tainan National University of the Arts (TNNUA) in 2006. Success came quickly—after winning the prestigious Kaohsiung Award (高雄獎) in 2007, he secured a five-year gallery contract. "I was incredibly fortunate to secure a contract so early in my career," Lin says. "It gave me the means to splurge on my artistic whims and see where they took me." This early recognition launched Lin's professional career and established his presence in Taiwan's art scene.
 
In the years that followed, Lin's career flourished. He collected accolades from major art exhibitions and competitions, showcased his work both domestically and abroad, and collaborated with fashion brands. After completing his military service in 2013, Lin began working with a new gallery. Though this partnership ended in 2017 due to contractual differences, his work continued to thrive through museum exhibitions, gallery shows, and corporate commissions.
 
Lin's artistic range extends beyond just two-dimensional pieces to include light installations and mixed media works. He has even developed considerable woodworking skills to support his need for custom-sized canvases and wooden protective crates. In 2021, Lin discovered yet another creative outlet when a friend suggested he try designing for wedding venues. What began as occasional projects evolved into a full-fledged practice, and by 2024, Lin had begun taking on cases independently. Still, Lin has continued to expand his creative repertoire, even venturing into interior decorating and decorative painting.

This range of creative work is reflected in Lin's tool-filled studio, where equipment for various processes like cutting, grooving, sanding, and drilling fills the space. His computer screen displays concept sketches of wedding props from designers, while his phone holds photos of the finished pieces in the studio. Like his artwork, these creations only reach their full potential once installed in their intended space—where venue lighting transforms them into something magical; but unlike his gallery exhibitions, where Lin attends openings and oversees installation, he rarely visits wedding venues to see his creations in place, preferring to remain behind the scenes.
 
"While I do still need to be concerned with making a living," Lin says, "these days I'm much more practical about selling my work than I was ten years ago. After all, sales means more income!" Now working outside traditional gallery structures, Lin has found freedom to explore his creativity purely on his own terms. His priority is simple: making the art that brings him the most personal satisfaction.

From Gallery Art to Wedding Design
Stepping into Lin's studio in Qiaotou, is like traveling back in time to Taiwan of the 1950s and '60s. Vintage treasures fill the space—rotary phones, boxy CRT televisions, and a classic Vespa—revealing his deep connection to this bygone era. "I'm drawn to old things, to that handmade quality," Lin says. "Today's world may be more high-tech, but objects from the past carry more of a human touch."
 
Lin, born in Kaohsiung in 1984, earned his fine arts degree from National Chiayi University (NCYU) and was later accepted into the Graduate Institute of Plastic Arts at Tainan National University of the Arts (TNNUA) in 2006. Success came quickly—after winning the prestigious Kaohsiung Award (高雄獎) in 2007, he secured a five-year gallery contract. "I was incredibly fortunate to secure a contract so early in my career," Lin says. "It gave me the means to splurge on my artistic whims and see where they took me." This early recognition launched Lin's professional career and established his presence in Taiwan's art scene.
 
In the years that followed, Lin's career flourished. He collected accolades from major art exhibitions and competitions, showcased his work both domestically and abroad, and collaborated with fashion brands. After completing his military service in 2013, Lin began working with a new gallery. Though this partnership ended in 2017 due to contractual differences, his work continued to thrive through museum exhibitions, gallery shows, and corporate commissions.

Lin's artistic range extends beyond just two-dimensional pieces to include light installations and mixed media works. He has even developed considerable woodworking skills to support his need for custom-sized canvases and wooden protective crates. In 2021, Lin discovered yet another creative outlet when a friend suggested he try designing for wedding venues. What began as occasional projects evolved into a full-fledged practice, and by 2024, Lin had begun taking on cases independently. Still, Lin has continued to expand his creative repertoire, even venturing into interior decorating and decorative painting.
 
This range of creative work is reflected in Lin's tool-filled studio, where equipment for various processes like cutting, grooving, sanding, and drilling fills the space. His computer screen displays concept sketches of wedding props from designers, while his phone holds photos of the finished pieces in the studio. Like his artwork, these creations only reach their full potential once installed in their intended space—where venue lighting transforms them into something magical; but unlike his gallery exhibitions, where Lin attends openings and oversees installation, he rarely visits wedding venues to see his creations in place, preferring to remain behind the scenes.
 
"While I do still need to be concerned with making a living," Lin says, "these days I'm much more practical about selling my work than I was ten years ago. After all, sales means more income!" Now working outside traditional gallery structures, Lin has found freedom to explore his creativity purely on his own terms. His priority is simple: making the art that brings him the most personal satisfaction.

The Strong Pulse of "Tai"(台) Aesthetics
 
"What is Tai-style?" At the core of Lin's work is a search for Taiwanese identity in everyday life and urban culture. He challenges the boundaries between refined art and popular aesthetics, seeking to uncover meaning through his own perceptive, relatable translation of Taiwanese aesthetics.
 
In exploring Taiwanese identity, Lin found himself particularly drawn to examining local subcultures and social phenomena. His investigation of "Tai-ke" (台客) and "Tai-girl" (台妹) culture—terms once used pejoratively but reclaimed by some, which he translates as "redneck" and "Tai-girls" respectively—led Lin to recognize his own earnest yearnings for recognition and success. These feelings became manifested in his signature round-eyed characters: their wide-eyed, almost childlike gaze both a reflection of earnest longing and a gentle response of self-mockery.
 
This distinctive visual style emerges through comical or bizarre subjects that appear throughout Lin's works. In his Love of Taifong: Aun-A-piao series, Lin paints exaggerated round eyes on the cartoon characters adorning the discs. The same feature appears in Saint Tai-girls (聖台妹), for which he won the Kaohsiung Award (高雄獎), where figures sport round noses as well.
 
In the process of exploring what exactly is "Tai," Lin has observed parallels between young people's search for identity and Taiwan's own position in the world—both navigating spaces of uncertainty, both seeking to define their place. "These uncertain states are like being wrapped in cellophane," he explains. "You're confined, seeking a way out while pressed in on all sides." This concept appears throughout Lin's earlier works, where subjects appear veiled behind translucent surfaces, reflecting both a sense of obscurity and his own emotional state. "During that period, I played with wordplay and homophones," he says, "using relationships between bodies and objects to express both humor and dissatisfaction."

While some of Lin's works explore "Tai-ke" culture through veiled surfaces, his series "Betel Nut Beauties" (檳榔西施) approaches it through the medium of light. "I started to play with lighting. At first, it was just neon lights. The process of incorporating color was actually very intuitive, just like adding color in my paintings." Lin's "intuitive approach" sees him apply colors straight to canvas rather than mixing them separately, which he finds can dull their vibrancy, or blending watercolors directly on paper; similarly, he finds the true effect created by light installations comes as a surprise only visible once completed and powered on.
 
Though Lin had always worked intuitively with color, this approach was reinforced during his military conscription, where his art duties required working quickly with markers. He applied this technique in his work for the Kaohsiung Museum of Fine Arts (KMFA)'s 2013 exhibition Mona Lisa Made in Taiwan, building layers of color and texture by intuitively adding small blocks of marker color. The same intuitive color blocking appears in his later Love of Taifong: Aun-A-piao series, where he painted the whimsical discs to create a similar effect. "I arranged the discs to create small blocks of color in a similar intuitive approach. It's impossible to predict what it will look like before I fill the whole canvas."
 
No matter the approach or medium, one thing is for sure: Lin has discovered power in what others have often dismissed as unrefined.

Discovering the Creative Process through Comics and Cartoons
It would be difficult to discuss Lin's work without addressing manga and cartoons, a key source of inspiration for his character-based works. Lin taps into the distinct personalities of iconic fictional characters to create a self-contained set of logical rules that govern the character's world. For instance, "Ang-á-phiau: the Unstoppable Ninja Turtle Michelangelo and the Pizza Rampage" features a complex painted composition that appears to be assembled from overlapping ang-á-phiau discs. When viewed from afar, a superimposed green layer on the painted discs come together to reveal the Ninja Turtle Michelangelo, while up close, each disc portrays its own connected elements.
 
In this same work, the "Pizza Rampage" suggested in the title are portrayed through pizza-themed ang-á-phiau discs. [Translator's note: Ang-á-phiau, sometimes translated as "battle cards" are a bit more complex than the American pog. Many ang-á-phiau contain symbols, numbers, or Mandarin characters around the edges for use in various games.] Lin designed each of these discs in a way that acts to echo the Joker card in a playing deck. The comparison is deliberate: just as a Joker disrupts the normal rules of a card game, the mere sight of pizza sends Michelangelo into an unrestrained frenzy, suggested by the infinity symbols (∞) bordering the sides of each disc. "When a Joker appears in the game, it is something unexpected, upsetting the situation that changes how we look at things and forces us to reexamine," Lin explains.
 
A similar tension can be found around the border of the larger work as a whole: colored thumbtacks form a neat row, suggesting an underlying order while resisting complete regulation. As Lin notes, "There's a frame, but it's rather spontaneous, making it appear unconstrained." This tension between structure and freedom seems to reflect Lin's own artistic identity.

Works throughout Lin's Love of Taifen: Aun-A-piao series are acclaimed for similar intricate compositions and are created through a meticulous multi-step process. Lin begins by outlining the main cartoon figure, then maps out hundreds of circular ang-á-phiau designs to fill the canvas. Working from background to foreground, he applies color directly to each painted disc, allowing the layers of color to interact—for instance, white overlaid with green creates subtle mint tones. Finally, Lin adds black borders around each painted disc and incorporates the detailed symbols and patterns typically found on ang-á-phiau.

The most painstaking phase focuses on the distinctive round eyes and border elements. Lin covers the canvas with a masking material, then precisely cuts away circles for the eyes and disc border symbols. Through these openings, he first sprays gray paint for the eyes to create shadows, followed by white paint for both eyes and symbols. The process concludes with Lin hand-painting each pupil and border detail.

Through these works, Lin explores both personal sentiments, societal critiques, and broader cultural observations. "Ang-á-phiau were popular playing cards for my generation. They may not be around anymore, but other sorts of cards are now popular." Lin observes how collectible cards have captivated generation after generation, each era drawn to their captivating allure. He points to 2024 Olympic gold medalist sprinter Noah Lyles, who channels the energy of Yu-Gi-Oh! cards before his races, as if drawing strength directly from the characters themselves. It is this sense of an object being imbued with a supernatural force that Lin tries to convey in his painted ang-á-phiau pieces.

 Possibilities Outside the Lines
Perhaps Ang-á-phiau are a thing of days past, but they may still hold an appeal to this generation when introduced by the right person. Since 2016, Lin has been introducing ang-á-phiau through children's workshops hosted alongside his solo exhibitions. The first thing he asks the children is to share their favorite cartoons and anime, which he then turns into two custom-designed black-and-white ang-á-phiau templates for the children to color.
 
At the end of each workshop, both child and Lin sign the completed pieces, acknowledging their shared roles in the creation process. The children then must decide which of the two ang-á-phiau they would like to keep and which to add to Lin's collection for exhibition. In this way, the children get to experience being both maker and collector, while Lin has accumulated around 150 ang-á-phiau by young artists.
 
Going forward, Lin says he hopes to continue this project, imagining these children returning as adults to view their creations and feeling the same nostalgia that traditional ang-á-phiau inspires in him.
 
Yet, the process used in the children's workshop differs significantly from Lin's own practice. In his work, Lin applies color first, then adds the finishing black edges of each disc; for the workshops, children work in reverse: they receive pre-drawn outlines to fill with color, like a coloring book. Not all young people respond as expected to this structured format, however, and their surprising approaches have prompted Lin to reflect on the relationship between line and color.
 
"Should creations be confined by outlines?" Lin asks. Coloring books are intended to guide children in reproducing reality precisely, but he finds young students often ignore these boundaries—painting across lines, adding their own doodles in empty spaces, creating unexpected tensions between color and outline. Their spontaneous approach has yielded engaging results, suggesting new creative possibilities.
 
Lin, for one, is no stranger to trying new approaches. From his early gallery success to his departure from the commercial art scene, Lin has carved out a multifaceted yet semi-reclusive path. His adaptable, open, responsive attitude towards life infuses his work with vitality. "One day, I might bring this ang-á-phiau series to a close," Lin reflects. "Maybe I'll go back to coloring like I did when I was four years old. Who knows? It could turn out to be the next big thing."