My artwork is of my robotic toy friends. They are handmade, and not so fancy.
They are artless, and not so fashionable. They are my favorite, since I believe they
are vigorous, powerful and good-hearted.
The first time I did robots was for my Second Grade school project. I made a
robot out of cereal boxes, toilet paper rolls, and tape. My robot was scruffy, with
paper arms and a cardboard torso, and flimsy card cogs. It had food stains on the
left half, and poor taping across the body. However, I loved it because of how it was
homemade, not in a factory. His small flaws remind me of the stories about him. I
remember sharing cardboard, pins, glue, and having lots of fun. I remember making
beeping noises as he “flew” in the air. He’s my robot friend, who shared many good
memories with me, like an old friend.
I once got a popular robot toy from online shopping. It was finely made, but it
was more like an exhibit you aren’t supposed to touch. I don’t play with it much,
since it was so otherworldly. My neighbor, a little girl, even got scared enough to cry
when it started moving remotely.
Thus, I began to make my own robot toy. He was unique, not a mechanical
reproduction. Friends aren’t perfect; robots aren't either. In Chinese, robot is literally
translated to machine-person. Machine-p erson . A person, whose only difference
from “real” people is that electricity pumps through its veins, instead of blood, and
titanium in place of flesh.