THE stones tell her stories, discloses Suzi Chua Eng blithely, her eyes sparkling. "The stones", she begins, "they can speak for themselves. They tell me what they want to be…"
The self-taught artist had taken to painting on stones and creating beautiful vivid acrylic paintings on their surfaces. From animals to flowers, Chua's stones have assumed a life of their own and garnered her a global audience eager to collect some of her breathtaking artworks etched on stones.
"The stones… the shape and feel… they dictate what they become. I can't really explain the connection, but I don't force a design on any stone. For example, this stone…" she picks up one from her garden, before continuing: "… this feels like it can become a beautiful flower."
She looks at me keenly before saying: "It's not like you pick a stone and say '... okay, I can paint anything on this surface.' Because no matter how well you paint it, if it's not the right imagery for that stone, it won't look as nice."
A pause and Chua adds: "As I pick up the stone, I can see how the stone is formed in a way that it has to be that particular animal or flower and nothing else. That's how I intuitively draw something that fits the shape and 'spirit' of the stone!" she elaborates.
A stone, of course, is already a piece of sculpture, even more so, when smoothed and shaped by such a consummate craftsman as the ocean. One could argue that nothing more need be done but admire nature's handiwork. Yet Chua isn't one to leave a stone unturned.
When she caught sight of the beautiful smooth stones, her husband brought to create a "rock garden" in their then-new home in Subang Jaya many years ago, she thought the plain rocks could use a splash of colour to bring out their beauty.
With her paintbrush, she breathed new life into dull stones, one stroke at a time. When she's dealing with subjects of nature, Chua seems very much at home, inspired at every turn.
Hornbills, snakes, sunbears, owls, orang utans… they gaze plaintively from the rock; the beautiful delicate paintings feature the natural world, a subject close to Chua's heart.
"I have an affinity towards nature. My paintings give a voice to creatures large and small. And I hope that as you look at my work, you'll begin to hear nature's voice too," she says softly.
Her painted stones and scores of her other artistic creations do tell a story. To begin with, you gaze at her art, secure in your isolation as a lone voyeur. You're reading the painting. But after a while the painting begins to look back.
When your interpretative gaze is exhausted, the work of art sets about its scrutiny of you. And that's when the deeper purpose begins to appear.
Great art breaks down your assumed superiority of being in charge of the interpretation. Religion even more so. At some point, you stop reading it and it starts reading you.
It's uncanny, I admit. She smiles at my description.
What's celebrated here, she shares, is the basic "aliveness" of stone, and the mysterious inner spirit that seems to inhabit it, affirmed in ancient myth and religion.
Ancient myths, religion, faith, the all-knowing universe — Chua is resolute in her belief that a higher power that has been guiding her all along.
FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT
"Everything happens for a reason," she says sagely. A divine power had been guiding her throughout her life, she insists. Even a difficult childhood had its purpose.
Her face clouds as she grows quiet.
"I was born in Melaka," she begins tentatively after a pause, adding: "My parents parted ways early on and I never really knew my father." Her mother, a housewife, moved to Johor and babysat for a living.
"She wanted us to study," explains Chua, "so she sent my sister and me to Kuala Lumpur to be with our grandparents so we could have an education."
Chua was around 7 or 8 at the time.
"It wasn't easy living away from my mother," she confesses, her voice heavy with emotion. "We were inconsolable and anchorless without our mother's presence near us."
The only silver lining was when the young girl discovered art in school. "I had an affinity towards art," she recalls, her face brightening. "It was undoubtedly one of my best subjects."
Her eyes faraway and her hands waving in tandem with her words, Chua enthuses: "It took me away from reality. For those few hours, I was in a different world focused on painting something beautiful. Something about bringing a subject to life with your hands got me enthralled. I loved art and it showed in my work."
After completing her Form Five, Chua went on to work as an administrative clerk. "It was time to earn money, so I did what I needed to do," she explains simply, shrugging her shoulders.
It was at work that the young woman met and eventually married her husband at the age of 20. Before long, she was a mum herself to three strapping young boys.
Art was soon quietly forgotten. Chua had a family to raise.
A DIVINE CALLING
The years went by quickly.
One day, as she was scouring through the Internet, Chua stumbled across artworks using pastel chalks. Her pulse quickened. The desire to create tugged at her heart.
Upon her request, her husband bought her a box of pastels to work with. "He bought me an expensive set!" she recalls, chuckling. "I was aghast because I only wanted a cheap version to play around with. You know… to dip my fingers in and try. It had been so long since I actually attempted to do anything creative!"
Her husband told her that he couldn't change the box because they were living in Bangi and he'd need to travel all the way to the capital city to make that switch.
The then-30-something Chua began experimenting and came up with beautiful feng shui-inspired artwork that was quickly snapped up by her colleagues at work.
"I started painting koi fishes because I loved them. The best part is that I didn't have an art teacher to tell me what not to do. I had no limitations and so I experimented with colours and everything," she tells me gaily.
What did her husband think of her artistic venture? I ask curiously.
"Oh, he's definitely not interested in art!" she replies with a chuckle. "He is just happy to leave me alone with my art and that works fine with me!"
The artistic impulse flickered for the next few years with her experiments in pastel. But the flame grew strong again when her sons were older.
At the age of 40, Chua and her family moved to Subang Jaya. It was at this home that she began her foray into painting the stones her husband brought back for their rock garden.
"I wanted to go to art school," she reveals quietly, adding: "There's so much to learn and explore about art that I thought perhaps it was time for me to enrol at an art school. My youngest son said he'd sponsor my classes because that was what I wanted to do."
But Chua was turned down by the college. Apparently, she was "too old" to learn.
"I left it at there. The universe has its ways," she muses, adding: "I knew that I had to keep following my heart. I'd dedicated my earlier years to my family. Now it was time to touch more lives through my art. If no one was to teach me, then I'll teach myself."
She leans towards me, eyes glinting behind her spectacles.
"Don't allow fear or hurtful words stop you from doing the things you love. Follow your heart and the universe will lead the way," she advises me.
LEADING THE WAY
The universe led the way for Chua.
From beautifully painted rocks to larger-than-life canvases depicting endangered wildlife, there's no stopping the 64-year-old. "Painting a vivid picture can tell you a lot more about nature than words can," she insists.
The artist has collaborated with many non-governmental organisations (NGOs) championing for the protection of wildlife and habitats because she believes that her art will allow people to see wildlife in a radically different way: essential to life on earth, endangered and — in too many cases — headed for extinction.
"I need to do what I can to educate people," says Chua, adding: "If my painting can stir something inside of you and get you to make a small change, that would be my biggest achievement. All I want is to save these animals, one painting at a time."
She continues to experiment with different art forms. "I can't help it," she exclaims half-sheepishly. "I'm a creator. I love learning new ways of creating art!"
Some of Chua's creation include sculptures from polymer clay, three-dimensional resin art inspired by the famous Japanese artist Riusuke Fukahori, and even the occasional paintings on wood and leaves. From realistic looking koi fishes swimming in tiny teacups to an owl tucked in a 'tree', it's easy to see that animals and wildlife are her muses.
But the animal lover reveals that her greatest love was her pet Snowboy, a Maltese dog her sons encouraged her to get. "I was initially against getting a dog because of the amount of work it would entail, but when I got Snowboy, I fell in love with him," she recounts wistfully.
Snowboy lived for around 20 years and his demise — though expected — was devastating. Her eyes fill with tears and she looks away. How did she feel, I ask awkwardly and she responds in a heavy voice: "What do you think?"
Snowboy's death was a double blow to Chua.
In the midst of all her joyous creation and artworks that were slowly gaining more traction among art enthusiasts, her health had suddenly deteriorated. "I contracted diabetes," she says softly, adding: "For a whole year, I stopped painting because I was so ill. Coupled with that, Snowboy passed away that same year."
It was devastating, but Chua found her solace in art. As soon as she was well enough, she stepped back into her little studio at home. "This is my refuge," she confides, waving her hand at the cluttered room filled with her "art stuff". There's barely room to move around, but she assures me with a grin: "It looks messy but I know where everything is!"
She reaches up to one of the shelves and brings out several books. "These are my books. They contain step-by-step instructions on how to recreate the animals and paint them on stones. You can get these from my Facebook page as well," she says matter-of-factly.
Looking at my surprised face, she smiles.
"I love teaching art as much as I love creating them," she explains. "Sharing art brings me joy. I always believe that there's enough space in this world for every artist. So why should I hold back my knowledge?"
While art can reach into the darkest places of the human psyche as Chua experienced, it does so to help us understand and hopefully transcend. Art lifts us up. In the end, I think its mission is simply to make us better people. Chua agrees with that wholeheartedly.
"My difficult and painful early years led me to this space where I'm trying to lift people up through my art. The universe always finds a way in the end," she says quietly.
A gentle breeze ruffles our hair and the musical clinking of the wind chime hanging over Chua's rock garden somehow lends credence to her words.
It feels like the universes has spoken after all.
For info on Suzi Chua's work, go to www.facebook.com/UniversalStonesArt.