When words failed at eight, art spoke—now creating music that bridges Vietnam and the world.

When Words Failed, Art Spoke

At eight years old, I arrived in America as a refugee from Vietnam, clutching memories I couldn't name in a language I didn't know. In the silence between worlds, I picked up a pencil. Drawing became my first English—a universal language that needed no translation.

Art saved me. It gave me a voice when I had none, a way to process what I'd left behind and imagine what could be ahead. In the margins of textbooks I couldn't yet read, I drew my way into belonging.

Years later, in the studios of Brussels where I exhibited as a fine artist for five years, that same instinct evolved. I painted obsessively, absorbing European culture while holding tight to Vietnamese roots, discovering that the refugee experience isn't about losing one identity for another—it's about becoming the bridge between both.

Then came poetry. Hundreds of poems over decades, each one another form of visual art—painting with words instead of color. Those poems became the foundation for something unexpected: songwriting.

Now, I create music that honors every language I've learned—the visual, the poetic, the sonic. Through Two Mothers Entertainment, I'm building worlds where Vietnamese culture meets global pop, where refugee stories become anthems, where the art that saved one silent child can speak for millions.

This is music born from necessity, refined by journey, and offered as gift.

Songwriter • Producer • Visual Artist • Founder, Two Mothers Entertainment