This story is also available in 繁體中文.
The Quiet Strength That Carries Spring
I began searching for the inspiration for my Year of the Ox long before 2021 arrived.
Twelve years earlier, I had already designed two fabric oxen—Huahua Ox and Shuaishuai Ox.
Looking back now, I have to laugh.
They were probably closer to little monsters than oxen.
I simply grabbed the most recognizable feature—the horns—placed them on a solid, sturdy body, and thought, “Yes, that will do.”
To my surprise, they became two of the most popular dolls in my little shop in Beijing. Many people even said they looked like the husband-and-wife shopkeepers.
That year, I also designed a small, cute charm — a leather cow with a big nose ring, meant to be hung on a bag.
This time, I wanted to make a New Year doll with the spirit of Chinese folk art.
Nothing too imaginative.
Just an honest ox that grandparents would recognize at first glance.
But as I kept making it, it slowly became the gentle water buffalo I had always seen in traditional Chinese paintings.
The Legs That Kept Me Awake
The hardest part was the legs.
At first, I imagined four thick cylindrical legs, inspired by simple Japanese papier-mâché animals.
Then I began taking the whole body apart in my head—thinking about every seam, every curve, every piece of the pattern.
I thought about it so much that I couldn’t sleep.
Early the next morning, I got up and needle-felted a little ox, simply to see whether the shape in my mind could really exist.
Only after making it could I finally sleep well.
That tiny felt ox stayed on my desk for a long time.
One day I realized something.
Cotton stuffing always wants to become round, almost like blowing up a balloon.
The gentle planes I imagined would never appear that way.
Perhaps those shapes belonged to wood or clay instead.
So I stopped fighting the material.
Instead, I hid the legs beneath the body and let the printed imagery complete the form.
Whether a design becomes more complicated or more simple, in the end, it only needs to become the version that feels right.
Waiting for the Right Weather
The wooden horns were painted by hand, one coat at a time.
They were larger than the wooden pieces I had used before, so drying them became surprisingly difficult.
Not under strong sunlight.
Not on a windy day.
Not when it was too cold.
Sometimes making things is simply a matter of waiting for the weather to agree.
An Old Blessing
While researching old folk traditions, I came across a custom that deeply touched me.
During times of epidemic, people would cut paper images of an ox and paste them on their doors, believing the ox could drive illness away.
As they did, they would say:
“Let all plagues and disasters be gored and scattered away by the Old Ox.”
「瘟灾瘟难，老牛顶散。」
I printed this blessing onto the body of Fu Chun Ox (福春牛).
Across its back, I added another wish:
“An Kang” (安康) — a blessing for peace, good health, and everyday well-being.
After everything we had experienced that year, those two simple words felt especially meaningful.
Every zodiac doll carries a wish for the coming year.
Mine just happened to arrive on the back of a quiet old ox.
May Fu Chun Ox (福春牛) bring you An Kang (安康), and may every new season begin in peace.
—— OVER ——