Gentle art finds home in America's fold

He was 10 years old, nimbly crafting a three-dimensional deer in his Saigon classroom by folding a sheet of paper, when an angry teacher grabbed him by the ear and tried to snuff his artistic impulses.

"She took the paper and showed everybody," recalled Duy Nguyen, now 47. "She said, 'You can't eat it. You're not going to be living on this. What are you doing with it?' "

Nguyen — his full name is pronounced "Zwee Win" — listened. For years, he curbed his instinct to create real-world, touchable objects from the colorful visions and stories in his mind.

Then in 1977, after his family fled Vietnam and settled in Arizona, the teenaged Nguyen walked into a movie theater to watch the original "Star Wars."

"It got me into origami really fast," he said, recounting how that first encounter with X-wing fighters blasting through space made him itch to pick up a sheet of paper and try to replicate one.

But his teacher's words stayed with him. Nguyen chose a practical career, learning draftsman skills at ITT Technical Institute and studying architecture at Phoenix Community College. By 1999, he was working for a civil-engineering company in Scottsdale, Ariz., drawing bridge designs.

"Sometimes I'd test it out on [folded] paper, to see how it would look in 3-D," Nguyen said. "They say, 'That looks pretty nice; you should do this for a living.' I say, 'I don't know how. You want to pay me to do origami?' "

Finally he began working on a book in his after-work hours, using his professional skills with computer-assisted drawing to translate his origami designs into clear, step-by-step instructions. Then he Photoshopped images of 16 of his creations — including a rattlesnake, a sinuous Asian dragon and a cowboy astride a bucking bronco — into colorful settings, and mailed the package to Sterling Publishing in New York.

The result? In December 2001, Sterling published "Fantasy Origami," a hardcover book featuring Nguyen's illustrations and photos.

Six years later, Nguyen has 18 origami books in print, with four more under development by Sterling. Along the way, he quit his day job and moved to Everett with his wife, Tramy Nguyen, and their three young children.

Writing his first book took a full year. Now, he says, he can whip one out in about a month. He used to take a finished creation and unfold it, step by step, to draw its sequence in reverse. Now he transmits his mental images directly into the computer, using a software program to simulate origami folds.

Money is tight, however. Nguyen says he earns 10 percent of most book sales, and 5 percent from volumes sold at school book fairs. Months pass between checks from Sterling.

He nearly won national media exposure in 2004, when Martha Stewart invited him to appear on her television show, he said. But the timing was bad; his wife was pregnant.

"I told her, 'Can I get back to you later on that?' And she went to prison then," he said, and laughed.

Tramy Nguyen, 39, is a student at Edmonds Community College, where she's taking math and English in pursuit of her dream of becoming a doctor. Duy Nguyen says origami helps him remain calm during his long afternoons caring for the children. The smallest two — 4-year-old Natalie and 2-year-old Brandon — are typical, rambunctious toddlers. Timothy, who is nearly 9, is autistic. He expresses himself with a near-constant drumming and tapping on various surfaces around the apartment.

"They can scream or do whatever, but I do my thing. It's a way to relax," Duy Nguyen said. "It makes me feel good."

Staff members at the Mukilteo and Mill Creek public libraries are familiar with Tramy Nguyen, who occasionally drops by to donate her husband's elaborate origami creations. The Mukilteo Library has displayed dozens of the artworks since February, while the Mill Creek Library received its first gift in early September.

"She said that as immigrants, they donate them out of a thanks and gratitude to be able to be an American," said Eric Spencer, manager of the Mill Creek Library.

She said nothing about her husband's writing career, Spencer said. But when he checked the bookshelves to gather origami volumes to display with the donated works, he found several of Nguyen's hardcovers.

"The books just flew out of here," he said. "For weeks, we were constantly refreshing them" by requesting origami books from other branches of Sno-Isle Libraries. "It was really exciting to see the kids. They wanted to touch them and double-check, is that really paper?"

The library displays include a cross-section of Nguyen's favorite themes. Delicate flamingos, sprayed pink and scarlet, convey a ballerina spirit; the zebras are folded from black-and-white striped paper designed and printed by Nguyen; U.S. military figures, statuelike and with a metallic paint, wave red-white-and-blue flags.

The couple's patriotism for their adopted country runs deep. Duy Nguyen was 14 when his family escaped Saigon aboard a U.S. military transport during the 1975 withdrawal of American troops. A soldier stood at an open side door of the Lockheed C-130, he recalls, watching for heat-seeking missiles.

The family of Tramy Nguyen was less fortunate, being captured repeatedly while trying to escape Saigon by boat, she said. Each time, her parents served several years in prison, for a total of 15 years, she said. After each failed escape, Tramy Nguyen and her seven siblings walked five hours to reach their grandfather, a monk who lived in a mountainside Buddhist temple.

He also was a doctor, trained in both Eastern and Western medicine. He inspired her in lasting ways.

"He tell us, America number one [place] to study in the world. He said, 'If you come to study, if America help you, you should owe America,' " recalled Tramy Nguyen, who wants to serve the poor and study treatments for diabetes and autism.

In 1996, she secured a student visa. She first moved to Buffalo, N.Y., but disliked the cold weather and quickly moved to the Los Angeles area. She soon met Duy Nguyen through the local Vietnamese-American community.

In Arizona, he was helping Vietnamese students, allowing them to live rent-free in his home. He heard that Tramy Nguyen needed costumes for a New Year's celebration and agreed to send them to California. After a couple of visits — and thousands of dollars in phone bills — she moved to Arizona. They married in September 1997.

"I met a lot of [Vietnamese] guys in California — engineer, doctor — but I met him and I know, this is my man," she said.

Duy Nguyen says fate brought them together. The travesties of war and the fall of Vietnam to communism had undermined his religious faith, but she has restored meaning to his life, he said.

"She's taught me a lot of things. She taught me compassion," he said.

They do what they can to help their countrymen still in Vietnam. They collect nearly-expired medical supplies from hospitals in California and Arizona, as well as infant-formula samples, which they periodically ship to a school for the handicapped operated by Vietnamese nurses.

They share a modest apartment filled almost haphazardly with origami. Horses pulling stagecoaches gallop across a stack of moving boxes; cowboys and samurai straddle rearing steeds atop a highchair tray; Darth Vader's TIE (twin ion engines) fighter chases a fleet of X-wings across the kitchen counter.

"Deep inside, I'm still a kid. My mom say, 'Grow up,' " he said.

"I say, it's not just the money. It's a contribution to society. In 10 years, my books still around. I'm sure of it. And somebody will love it."

Diane Brooks: 425-745-7802 or dbrooks@seattletimes.com