This exhibition is called “Quicksand”. Sand always gives me a feeling of time going by.

I was obsessed by the desert since the first time I saw it. It seemed so cool and spectacular with the blue sky and the scorching sun of the noon. I couldn’t help being bare feet on the sand. Feeling its flow, my feet instantly found a sense of belonging. Going upward along the sand ridges, I could find various landscapes in different positions. At first there was all sand in my eyesight and the sky above me, later I found continuous sand mountains far away, soon there appeared a lake over there lying on the sand like a mirror. Looking downwards from the sand ridge, I came in a cliffy way. The sand was getting hotter, but I was unwilling to go backwards while I worried I might fall off the sand hillsides. But soon another idea came into my mind: nothing was going to happen if I fell off, instead maybe it was a great fun; then without hesitation I stepped into it. Sometimes danger comes from fear. Without the barrier of heart, everything will become natural. I began to walk on the cliffy sand hillsides, with my feet more sink into the sand. The touched sand instantly flew like sea and left some new marks. There were strange travelers waving hands to me not far away, so I smiled and waved my hands to him, too. The wind took birds’ songs farther and sands from here to there.

Time is like a kind of special sandpaper, which lets us peel ourselves gradually and gives us another kind of luster.

I often remind of another experience. One night we lost ourselves in the wild, unable to find any residents around. We called for help, telling our approximate position, switched off the cell phone and waited for the driver to come and save us. During the night the feeling of getting lost seemed purer, and darkness seemed transparent and far-reaching. Our eyes gradually adopted darkness and the mountains and woods became faintly visible. We gradually heard the wild sounds. All were quite great fun. On the next day, I’d like to check the exact place where we had been trapped, so the end of the previous day became the start of the following day. But in the sunlight no mystery ever remained in the same place; I couldn’t help laughing at my loss here. This experience reminds me of losses in painting. Sometimes puzzles can make me happy; now I can enjoy the moments heartily.

Start and end, hardly to define, often exchange their roles. However, the “mean” state in the middle of them is so beautiful.