Hannah Tjia

Hannah Tjia, born in Southern California in 2001, is a painter and draftswoman who combines figurative studio painting with illustration and decorative design, inspired by her love of folklore, fables, and fairytales. Her work explores otherworldly creatures and motifs representative of her imagination and perception of reality. She works in oil paint, charcoal, graphite, watercolor, and gouache and enjoys experimenting with and combining these mediums. Hannah received her BFA in Drawing and Painting from the Laguna College of Art and Design, and currently resides in Irvine, California.

Wolf Song is based on memories from when I was little about Japanese wood block prints, video games, manga, and anime. While I never played video games as a child, I distinctly remember the blue-stained, melancholic aesthetic of a certain scene from a friend’s game. Wolf Song is my way of solidifying those images in my head I could never forget. After painting this piece, I also wrote a poem that captures in words the feelings of loneliness and finding friendship that the images personify to me.

Every night,
As the sky grows grim,
And the sun shies slim,
behind the rounded moon’s face,
I shiver, heart quickened apace,
At the withering wails of the sea wolves.

Every night,
I hide in bed until the sky turns red,
Until those howling ghosts,
That ride along the coast,
Melt back into the sea.

So, every night,
I hide, locked in and tucked under
Safe in my slumber;
but with only me,
As my company,
Every night of every year,
I solely, slowly, grow lonely.

As far as the eye can see,
Nobody but me and a tree;
Perhaps a wolf would be a friend to me?
How frightening could it be?

So tonight,
When the wolves awoke,
I awoke.
And leaving my warm hide,
I pittered past flood tide,
To see no howling phantoms as feared,
But beautiful creatures reared,
By the sea to sing with the moon.

So this morning,
As the sky turned red,
I’m not in bed,
And not alone and lonely,
Because in the night, a wolf sang to me