To Do Well the Work God Has Given You

— Liu Xiaoning

Discovering My Path

When I was young, I never imagined that I would become a painter.
Painting was not a clearly defined goal in my life. At the beginning, it was simply an accidental attempt.

One day, I picked up a brush for the first time with real intention. It was not a carefully planned decision—just a simple curiosity. But the moment I began to paint, I knew: this was not something I would do casually. This was something I would continue for the rest of my life.

I never received formal training in painting. No one taught me a specific style, and no one set a path for me. My techniques, compositions, and visual language were all formed through years of trial, failure, and rediscovery. Every stroke, every structure, was developed through my own exploration. Looking back, I realize that what was never taught became what was truly mine.

A Life-Changing Encounter in Tibet

Later, I traveled to Tibet. It was a place that completely transformed me.

Once, while driving in a Tibetan region, I met a very young girl by the roadside. She waved for my car to stop. We had never met before. When I stopped, she came to the window, called me “uncle,” and took out a thick bundle of RMB bills—several thousand yuan—from inside her clothing.

She handed the money to me and said calmly,
"My younger brother is washing Buddha statues at Jokhang Temple. Could you please take this money to him for me?"

In that moment, I was left almost speechless. A child who had never met me placed all of her savings into the hands of a stranger, without hesitation or doubt. What moved me was not the money itself, but the weight of that trust.

That moment deeply shook my heart and spirit. It showed me something rare in the modern world—a sincerity that is clean, direct, and without defense.

A Commitment to the Land and Its People

From that day on, I made a quiet decision in my heart: I would go deeper into this land, and I would respond to it with greater responsibility.

Since then, every year, I bring supplies back to Tibet whenever I can. I help deliver materials for daily life and education, and I also teach local children how to paint. When I see the light in their eyes as they hold a brush for the first time, I recognize that feeling—it is the same feeling I had when I first discovered painting myself.

I have also become involved in supporting students through education. I know I cannot change everything, but if I can help change even a few lives, then this work is worth continuing.

Painting as a Mission

For me, this is no longer only about art. It is about the relationship between people and land, between people and faith, and between people and responsibility.

I have always felt that Tibet is a sacred land left by God—not because it is distant, but because many of its people still preserve a spiritual state that has not been fully consumed by modern society. They believe in cause and effect. They believe in trust. And they believe that doing what is in front of them with sincerity is, in itself, a way of honoring the divine.

Gradually, I understood that I am not only painting landscapes. I am painting a state of being—a way in which people still remain humble before heaven and earth.

Through this journey, I have become increasingly clear: my work is no longer only for myself. If life truly carries an assignment, then mine may be this: to use painting to record this land, to record its people, and to carry their strength, trust, and purity to places far beyond where they live.

A Life Lived with Sincerity

I no longer ask how many more years I will paint. I only ask whether I have done today’s work with sincerity.

For me, this is my understanding of life:
Not to choose the easier path, but to do, with full seriousness, the work that God has placed in your hands.