Ink On Paper, Multiple Size, 2011-2017
Compared with its calmness and clearness today, the surface of the ocean is dark and mysterious in memory, numerous monsters lurking beneath its surging tides. It was chaos without the existence of man, without any border between land and sea, even without land, allowing the water to travel to anywhere it pleased…
Recalling those scenes, I drew them down: the beast in the teenager’s mind of me, and the legends told by the old fishermen were all shining through in the paper, replaying the illusion in literation, and the castles in the air. I gradually grasped the essence of the Chinese landscape painting created by ancestors, with the waves and clouds interweaving, the emotion and mist permeating. The sea didn’t look like sea anymore, only to see the waves and mountain overlapping.
However, I still haven’t found the boundless ocean of my memory, which is the ocean before the appearance of man. Imagine the first human to see the ocean, where you may glimpse someone familiar walking towards you, but you are not able to distinguish his contour clearly-exactly like the fact that you are from the ocean but you know so little about it. You would ask yourself whether to return or not, for the surging waves of the forgetting sea didn’t make you want to pull into the shore.