Today we’d like to introduce you to Ying Tran.
Hi Ying, so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?
Hello, my name is Duyên, a Vietnamese name pronounced “Yuing,” but I’ve gone by Ying my whole life.
I’m a mixed Asian-American, born in South Dakota, but I consider Honolulu, Hawaii my true home. I spent most of my childhood there—from the age of 6 to 13—surrounded by island life, warm waters, and healing food. For me, Hawaii was more than a place—it was my escape. It gave me softness during a time when home life was anything but soft. I grew up in a very dysfunctional, traumatic, and unloving environment, and while it was deeply painful, I know now that it helped shape the person I am today.
When I was 13, my family moved back to South Dakota, and that shift left me in culture shock and a deep depression. Everything I loved felt far away. There was a point where even my name disappeared—my parents stopped calling me Ying and began referring to me in ways that made me feel small, insignificant, like I didn’t matter. It may seem like a detail, but it wasn’t. It chipped away at my sense of self. My identity began to fade, and the pain at home only deepened.
But even then, I found small portals of escape—MMORPGs, anime, and long hours online. I started using Photoshop to make art tags for forums, blending collages and textures, chasing that feeling of “pretty” with no formal training—just instinct. I would lose myself in it. I didn’t know it then, but those moments were sacred. I always felt different, like there was something inside me that I couldn’t explain yet—but it was there. I was made for something.
At 26, I moved to San Francisco, just before the pandemic. The moment I arrived, I fell in love with the city. San Francisco felt like it had been waiting for me. Even during lockdown, something beautiful happened: I found myself. I reconnected with my creativity, my spirituality, and the parts of me I had forgotten. I discovered cooking as ritual. I dove into divination, tarot, astrology, dance and Reiki—not just as practices, but as lifelines. They helped me peel back the layers and finally see myself more clearly.
I cherish those years—the solitude, the lessons, the slow healing. Today, I work as a barista and as an illustrator for The Rising, a project close to my heart. It’s where my creativity and my deeper purpose meet. I live simply, but with intention. Every day, I nurture both my spirit and my art.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
A lot of my biggest challenges came from my early home life. I grew up in a very dysfunctional and unloving environment. There wasn’t safety or encouragement, and instead of being called by my name, there were times I was referred to in ways that made me feel small and invisible. That really affected how I saw myself, and it made it hard to feel worthy of softness or joy.
Another major challenge was moving from Hawaii—where I felt most alive and connected—to South Dakota at age 13. That shift was jarring. I went from a vibrant, warm island culture to a place where I felt completely disconnected. It triggered deep depression and culture shock. I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere, not even at home.
On top of that, navigating my identity as a mixed Asian-American, especially in environments that didn’t reflect or understand my background, added another layer. There were moments when I truly felt like I had no voice, like I had to shrink to survive.
But despite all of that, I found little pockets of light—online communities, anime, art, and spirituality. Those were lifelines. Learning to listen to myself, to care for my inner world, and eventually move to San Francisco where I could start again—that’s been the healing arc of my journey.
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
I’m most proud of my illustrations. My art work comes from my heart space & spirit. I’ve always felt different. Like an alien among humans. I feel my art out. Its always been this way. I like to believe what shows up in my art is from the world I’m actually from. Mystical & free.
Can you tell us more about what you were like growing up?
Growing up i was a very quiet, shy child. You wouldn’t hear a peep from me in school. My home life had a huge influence on my being. I had huge responsibilities from a very young age, such as to watch my siblings while my single mother worked.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: Buckwildinalien
