Yorkson Liu shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Hi Yorkson, thank you for taking the time to reflect back on your journey with us. I think our readers are in for a real treat. There is so much we can all learn from each other and so thank you again for opening up with us. Let’s get into it: When was the last time you felt true joy?
There’s a certain kind of joy that comes not from grand moments, but from simple, shared experiences. One of those moments happened when I introduced Chinese food, dim sum, to a group of friends visiting from Europe.
They’d never had dim sum before, so I took them to a local place I love, one with clattering teacups, buzzing conversation, and that comforting smell of freshly steamed dumplings.
We tried everything—siu mai, har gow, rice rolls, egg tarts—but one dish in particular surprised them: a plate of bright green stalks, lightly stir-fried and glistening with garlic and sauce. The dish is called choy sum, a type of Chinese vegetable. There isn’t really an English equivalent.
They were amazed by the flavor, the tenderness, the way it felt light and fresh but still deeply satisfying. We talked about how, back home, they didn’t grow vegetables quite like this. “It’s kind of like broccoli,” one said, “but… better. Softer. Sweeter.” In that moment, I felt real joy. It wasn’t just about the food—it was about connection. About introducing something familiar to me, and seeing it become brand new through their eyes. It reminded me of the power of food. A bridge between cultures.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Hi, I’m Yorkson Liu, a filmmaker, sound artist, and storyteller passionate about cross-cultural connections. I was born and raised in Shenzhen, China, and later earned my master’s degree in film production from the School of Cinematic Arts at the University of Southern California, with a focus on sound post-production. My work often explores how people from different backgrounds relate to one another through food, music, memory, or place.
Right now, I’m developing a podcast and a series of short documentaries that spotlight small, meaningful encounters between cultures—moments that are often overlooked but deeply human. Whether it’s introducing dim sum to friends from Europe, or following a children’s choir from America touring in China, I’m interested in those little bridges we build when we share who we are.
What makes my work unique is that I approach storytelling not just through visuals but through sound and emotion. I believe the way something feels is just as important as the way it looks. That’s why I pay close attention to the sonic world of each story—because sound holds memory, intimacy, and often, the unsaid.
Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. What breaks the bonds between people—and what restores them?
What often breaks the bonds between people isn’t conflict itself, but distance—emotional, cultural, or even just the passing of time. Misunderstandings, assumptions, and the silence that grows when we stop listening to one another can quietly wear away at connection.
But what restores those bonds is often surprisingly simple: genuine attention. A moment of empathy. A meal shared without pretense. A small act of reaching out—not to fix, but just to be present. Stories, music, food, laughter—these are some of the most powerful bridges we have. They help us remember our common humanity.
Connection isn’t always rebuilt through grand gestures. More often, it begins again with a question like, “Tell me more,” or “Would you like to try this?” It’s the small, sincere invitations that open the door again.
Do you remember a time someone truly listened to you?
Yes—I remember it clearly. It was during a time of deep uncertainty, right after I graduated. I had been studying sound design, and I knew I was good at it. I had poured myself into it. As graduation neared, I faced a hard reality: the job market. A few post-production houses were offering me mix tech. It’s a solid path into the industry, but it wasn’t my first choice. I wanted to design and create. And yet, if I wanted a full-time job, the mix tech route was the most realistic option. I felt grateful for the opportunities, but also a little defeated.
That’s when one of my teachers took the time to listen. And he didn’t rush to tell me what to do. Instead, he sat with me and broke it all down—every position in the sound post-production. From mix tech to sound editor to re-recording mixer to supervising sound editor. He explained what each role involved, what skills it built, and how people moved between them. What meant the most wasn’t just the information. It was how patiently and seriously he treated my concern. He made space for my hesitation, and helped me see the bigger picture—that starting as a mix tech didn’t mean giving up on sound design. It meant gaining trust, building relationships, and learning the mix room from the inside. It was a step forward, not a step down.
That conversation stayed with me. It reminded me that being truly listened to can change not just how you feel, but how you move forward.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. Whose ideas do you rely on most that aren’t your own?
Honestly, YouTube University is what I really rely on. I gain so much info from it and check several channels daily. They span from art to finance.
Okay, we’ve made it essentially to the end. One last question before you go. Are you doing what you were born to do—or what you were told to do?
I believe I’m doing what I was born to do—but I didn’t always know it.
I was surrounded by expectations like study hard and follow a clear path. No one told me to become a sound designer. In fact, most people didn’t even understand what that meant. But the first time I sat in a dark room, listening carefully, shaping emotion through sound, I felt something click. It wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was quiet—but deeply certain.
There were moments where practicality had to take priority—like considering jobs that weren’t quite what I dreamed of, but were still part of the industry I loved. And in those moments, I had to ask myself: Am I settling, or am I building? The truth is, I’m still building. And I think that’s what being “born to do something” really means—it’s not a destination, it’s a direction.
Every step I’ve taken, every project, every moment someone listened to something I created and felt something, that reminds me I’m on the right path.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://liuyuxua.myportfolio.com/
- Instagram: yorkson_liu
- Linkedin: Yorkson Liu
Image Credits
Yorkson Liu
Brenton Bender
