Purple Rain
Backlit print in side mirror light box, hand made wooden box, mix materials,
14×22×13 inch (36×56×33cm)
2022-2026

Perhaps this is the quintessential Vancouver romance.

When I first moved to Vancouver, the city’s nocturnal landscape was still cast in the dim, amber glow of halogen lamps. Compared to the hyper-modernized lighting systems of Guangzhou or Paris, the streets felt remarkably—perhaps even absurdly—subdued. However, I soon witnessed a peculiar transition in the city’s infrastructure. Along certain thoroughfares, the uniform yellow glow would be interrupted by isolated lamps emitting a vivid purple light.

This jarring irregularity defied logic. For years, I attempted to decipher the technical principle behind this arrangement, but the patterns remained inexplicable: purple lights would vanish, reverting to a standard color temperature, only to reappear elsewhere without warning.

I eventually chose to view this phenomenon through a more poetic lens, imagining the “city lighting designer” as a devoted fan of Prince. In the end, the interplay of purple hues and the mist of “Raincouver” created a harmony that felt both deliberate and surreal.