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Painting (MA)

Chengwei Geng

Chengwei Geng (b.1998, China), the only child of a Lacanian psychoanalyst mother and a homicide detective father.

Someone who finds disappointments within human interactions, but still tries when she is sick of herself.

Has a mild addiction towards things that existed before she did, something you'll hear a lot if she ever befriends you: "I can't only talk to dead people, can I?" (perhaps the dead won't disappoint her as much)

Peculiar one, she is. Treats her lifelong disability like a gift from heaven. When alcohol is involved, she'll probably confess with tears in her eyes: "I didn't choose this but life is what you make of it."

And she did make something out of it, in 2019 she graduated from The University of Brighton with a BA degree in Fine Art Painting; then continued her journey at the RCA. Although, she would say: " There's always more to search for in one lifetime. Don't be shallow!" (If this is not pretentious, I don't know what is.)

Now... If you're still interested. Below is a selection of works she chose and paired with witty descriptions, have a look. Closely if you want to, roughly if you're rushing through life. Either way, I hope you enjoy.

Degree Details

School of Arts & Humanities

Painting (MA)
Chengwei Geng

"If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,

A hoper, a pray-er, a magic-bean-buyer.

If you're a pretender come sit by my fire,

For we have some flax golden tales to spin.

Come in! 

Come in!” 

― Shel Silverstein

The Wonderer
The Wonderer — Oil on canvas 2019 (15cm x 15cm)
Wonderer (nourished)
Wonderer (nourished) — Pen on paper 2020 (A4)
Wonderer (flipped)
Wonderer (flipped) — Oil on canvas 2020 (10 x 10cm)
Wonderer (wondering)
Wonderer (wondering) — Oil on canvas 2020 (10 x 10cm)
Wonderer (on the move)
Wonderer (on the move) — Oil on canvas 2020 (10 x 10cm)
Wonderer (the lamplighter pretender)
Wonderer (the lamplighter pretender) — "I always want to rest," said the lamplighter. For it is possible for a man to be faithful and lazy at the same time. ― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince (Chapter 14) Oil on canvas 2020 (10 x 10cm)
Wonderer 4
Wonderer 4 — Oil on canvas 2020 45cm x 75cm
Wonderer 5
Wonderer 5 — “She wanted none of those days to end, and it was always with disappointment that she watched the darkness stride forward. ” ― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief Digital Painting 2020
Far Far Far Away
Far Far Far Away — mixed media 2020 45cm x 90cm

"Isn't it pretty to think so?” 

― Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises


Oil on canvas, pen on A4.
3am — When I can't sleep, Sometimes, I wonder on the second tallest building. It's a bit cold and a bit dark. It's always lonely.
Xmas — What goes on a Christmas tree again?
Red Hat
Red Hat — I don't like, being pink or the red hat and the hair, this looks too pretty...
Spilled Milk
Spilled Milk — Remember when mum told us off cuz we spilled milk? When mum braided my hair, When dad tied my shoelaces, When high heels were always too big for my feet, When it was embarrassing to wear dresses to class. It's not making sense anymore. I drank some wine and spilled some. MUM! HELP!

“All grown-ups were once children... but only few of them remember it.” 

― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

<Little Secrets> is a poetry book I created when I was applying to PhD, when I thought I found the "right" next step and when the fun stopped.

My tutor Jesse told me: "Just have fun."

So, I sat in front of my craft table reminiscing all the weird little poems in my head, ones I recite to myself from time to time...

And these were born, just a few pages, but you get the idea.


Anything within the reach of my craft table
Looking — What does bubbles represent here, kids? Magic? or a disguise... Anything you might consider as a part of the mentioned, it won't last, like bubbles, like the little mermaid.
Look Again
Look Again — Do I look scared or calmly content to you? Let me know.
Find me, collect me and leave me.
Find me, collect me and leave me. — Hi there, how bazaar is this? I can't even find myself in the lens, I'm diluting into my bed and incautiously leaking on the carpet.
Baffling — Dear Tracey Emin, I don't how it feels in your bed, but I'm having a dilemma. I'm extremely tired, but all I do these days is sleep. They're scaring me. The dreams, I mean. Sincerely, Someone who's soon to be graduated from the same place you did
Caved — That fluffy bunny looked too comfy to not doze off on. Plus, it follows me anywhere I go, so I can feel like I'm 5 again.
who? — Barely recognisable and hardly memorable.

Is it weird that I've been singing love songs to myself?

I guess it's hard for those who didn't spend the last 1/2 year in solitary. (don't worry, I chose to)

Memories transformed to still pictures from moving clips. From colours to black&white. The person I see in that mirror, the one I talk to everyday, the one I can't help but fall in love with (?)... Is that me? I needed to spilt my soul into several to keep sane... aha look at me go, finding excuses for my insanity.

<Us 我們> is my latest project, these pictures were taken on my mobile phone and camera angles solely rely on the furniture position. I can't paint


Dimension varies between A2 to A3 (Prints)

A few months ago, I encountered another inevitable challenge for my body.

Let me put it in some easier words, My brain wants to pick up a glass of water but my muscle decided to spill it. 

 It’s hard to not find humour in the repeated failures, it's also hard to eliminate anger.

As for now, my muscles haven't yet permitted me to hold a brush.

I thought... Maybe I'll use my fingers as brushes and my skin as canvas.


my body and hard-to-wash-off paints
home video clip — I don't know why this always gives me tears and faith.
Greeting — There's nothing for me to describe, just watch. and comment gently. 2021
Listen and guess — 2021

Recorded whilst alcohol and tiredness invade my muscles.

Remember what's lost and what's left.

“Things are sweeter when they're lost. I know--because once I wanted something and got it. It was the only thing I ever wanted badly, Dot, and when I got it it turned to dust in my hand.” 

― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned


I write to record things that I consider important.

There's much more on my blog, but these fit with all that you've seen here.


Assemblage of my scattered mind