It is time to write something for the exhibition again. As always, it is a headache for me since I really don’t know what to write. I have no idea since when I am so afraid of narrating my own works. I even feel embarrassed whenever I see my works in the exhibition hall. It is really hard for me to face my own works, because every painting is like my real self during a certain period of time. Freeze-framed there forever and staring at me in silence, it seems to say, “Hey, look at yourself, you have changed a lot.” However, on the other hand, they take my place to travel widely, seeing more people and things, and then exist in the lives of others. For me, this is really amazing.

I began painting since I was a little girl. Painting is my means of expression and also my tool. I use it to make friends and it makes me more popular and brings me happiness, which means a lot for me. Louise Bourgeois once said, “The purpose of creation is to have fun. I feel much better and stronger whenever I finished a work.” I cannot agree with her more.

All my works in almost a year will be on display this time. I constructed a world to defend myself against the reality in these works. They carry my emotions during a certain period of time and exist in the real world. Every painting has its own story. In these pictures, there are my terrors, illusions as well as hopes, by which I am seeking the sense of security. I often stay at home alone and the time I spend in solitude is way much longer than that of others. Sometimes I forget how to talk to others. Just like now, I sit before the computer. Half an hour has passed, and I haven’t typed a single word yet. Fortunately, I have another way of expressing myself. Someone once said that my works are murmurs one utters in his/her sleep with sadness hidden behind. However, for my part, my works are the bridge between darkness and light. You have to go through darkness before you see light.

I don’t like talking about my little world for fear that people may fix me in a certain frame. In his novel Out Stealing Horses, Per Petterson said, “People like it when you tell them things, in suitable portions, in a modest, intimate tone, and they think they know you, but they do not, they know about you, for what they are let in on are facts, not feelings, not what your opinion is about anything at all, not how what has happened to you and how all the decisions you have made have turned you into who you are. What they do is they fill in with their own feelings and opinions and assumptions, and they compose a new life which has precious little to do with yours, and that lets you off the hook.”

Anyway, what I said above seems a little bit too sentimental. My friend once joked that if I ever write any preface to an exhibition, never show it to her since she couldn’t stand my “affectation”. I think she made the right decision. To be frank, it is really difficult for me to give others an accurate summary of what I am thinking about.

Last of all, I’d like to extend my deepest gratitude to my teachers Deng Jianjin, Hu Chijun, and Fan Lin for their help and guidance over the years of my undergraduate and postgraduate studies. Professor Deng once said to me, “All human beings are seeking their sense of security during their whole life. Never forget your real self because of a man or a woman or a certain kind of life.” I bear this in mind all the time. I am grateful as well to my friends for their encouragement which supports me to go on with what I am doing. And I save my final words of thanks for all the people with the Line Gallery. You show up when I feel depressed and always tolerate my delay. Many thanks!

By Mo Di