Born in 1995 in Wanhua, Taipei, LIU Wen Hao is currently pursuing his master's degree in Fine Arts at the Taipei National University of the Arts. LIU's passion for drawing began at a young age, which led him to pursue formal art training from Fu-Hsin Trade & Arts School to graduate studies. Diagnosed with Tourette syndrome in elementary school and struggling with recurring atopic dermatitis, LIU faced a challenging and often frustrating educational journey. Simple tasks, such as writing neatly in the squares of a Chinese workbook or practicing calligraphy, demanded far greater effort for him to achieve what was considered "normal" standards. This experience forged a profound connection between LIU and the way potted plants grow, which he views as an art born of constraint. Inspired by this parallel, he began exploring bonsai as a motif in 2022.

In pursuing the perfect representation of natural elements, plants are confined to pots, as if bound by a powerful "spell" that restricts or transforms their natural forms. This "spell" involves techniques such as shaping growth with iron wires and enforcing restrictive pruning. Through these deliberate and artificial methods, a carefully constructed and curated "natural" landscape takes shape. LIU likens bonsai to people, observing that both are "compelled to conform to a standard of what is good as dictated by society." In his Self-portrait and Black Vase On Top of Free Tile series from 2023, the backgrounds feature checkerboard-patterned floors. The dynamic, explosive plant forms and the subtly distorted lines of the floor tiles create a visual tension, reflecting the struggle between the desire for freedom and the drive toward conformity.

Distorted lines and the eccentric sense of space they evoke are hallmarks of LIU's paintings. Through his intricate creative process, he reflects on the physical experiences of those living with Tourette syndrome. He begins by layering and scraping away multiple coats of acrylic paint, using a scraper to form an irregular, sometimes elusive frame. Next, he applies spray paint to create lines; the natural tremors in his hand and the unpredictable precision of the spray result in trembling lines and dripping effects. Finally, he refines the work with sandpaper to polish the surface and a file to carve lines, meticulously arranging and balancing blocks of color in the composition. This process of aggressive erasure and reconstructing lines and color blocks mirrors life's constant renewal in the face of trauma.

The 2024 Plaster Cast series echoes the habit of self-correction shaped by his experience growing up. In art classes, students are trained to perfectly render plaster casts, a task that proved particularly difficult for LIU. Drawing from his own experience, he begins by getting hold of the line alignment of the plaster cast. Using a projector, he sketches the preliminary outline, then cuts a canvas to match the cast's shape and stretches it precisely. He layers paint meticulously and employs grids to ensure accurate proportions. Yet, despite constant adjustments, the process is fraught with uncontrollable variables. These disruptions cause the plaster cast painting to deform progressively, ultimately transforming into a surreal image that only vaguely resembles its original form. This process invites reflection on whether true perfection can ever be achieved under rigid disciplines.