Cherie Leung, Are you warm enough?, 5.3ft x 9ft cotton quilt top made of 6,912 1"x1" squares, on top of 42 quilts and air mattress, 48in(h) x 80in(w) x 45in(d), 2025.

As a mother of 3, I constantly worry about whether my children are warm enough, safe enough, happy enough, and whether I am teaching them enough to navigate the world.

I created a 5.3ft x 9ft quilt top made of almost 7,000 one-inch squares that I individually cut and sewed together. The fabrics are left over from previous things I’ve made for my kids, including the 42 quilts the piece sits on top of. No child needs that many quilts. The quilts are stacked on top of each other because mothering in excess can become “smothering” and counterproductive in raising confident children. My piece illustrates excessiveness, obsession, labour as care, but also overcompensation for feelings of worry and guilt.

Cherie Leung, What I tell my children, 85ft aluminum wire, knitted i-cord (yarn), dimensions variable, 2025.

This is a meandering 85-foot wire insulated by hand-knit i-cord. It is a representation of how I try to pass on life lessons to my children, but how my speeches can be repetitive and digressive, and thus counterproductive.

Cherie Leung, Move aside, cotton canvas, acrylic/wool yarn, thread, 44in x 36in, 2024.

I tell my kids to move aside when someone approaches on the sidewalk - even when they are taking up only half the space. Other people don’t do this when we walk past. I thought I was teaching them to be kind and considerate, but am I really teaching them to be submissive in this Western world where space is power?

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Cherie Leung, Pockets of knowledge, red pockets, resin, approx 6.5in x 3.5in, 2024.

These are “lucky pockets” that adults give children on Chinese New Year. The front has a couplet of well wishes, and inside is supposed to contain money. This one says, “May everything in life go smoothly.” I cast these in resin so that the pockets are closed and inaccessible yet are seen at surface level.

As a second-generation Chinese Canadian parent, I worry about the limited cultural knowledge I pass on to my children. I thought of how, outwardly I am Asian, but internally I don’t have the depth of understanding that my parents have, and what that means for my own identity as well as for future generations.

Cherie Leung, What does it mean to be a mother?, found materials (felt strips, yarn, thread, plastic rope, scrap metal, wood plank), 26in x 35in, 2024.

This installation began as a series of material studies for my 4th year BFA thesis project. All the materials were found in my school’s “Re-use Depot” (felt strips, yarn, thread, plastic rope, scrap metal, wood plank). I was experimenting with the felt strips to see if I could use them to make sculptural forms. I made the central figure first and then built a narrative around it.

Cherie Leung, What does it mean to be a mother?, found materials (felt strips, yarn, thread, plastic rope, scrap metal, wood plank), 26in x 35in, 2024.

(detail view)

Cherie Leung, What does it mean to be a mother?, found materials (felt strips, yarn, thread, plastic rope, scrap metal, wood plank), 26in x 35in, 2024.

(detail view)

Cherie Leung, When will it be over, natural beeswax and graphite on wood panel, 11in x 14in, 2024.

This piece was made with charcoal pencil and beeswax on wood panel. It was a conceptual exercise that combined process and making. I wrote the words “When will it be over?”, then layered it with beeswax. Once covered, I carved the words out and layered again. Repeating the process manifested the sentiment I was writing.