The creative backdrop of this work overlaps in two realms: one primal, one historical. Both share the patina of time—the aged trees and buildings, the lonely echoes of seasonal sounds, and the complex symphony of summer. Sunlight merges with rain; in this half-year unlike others, pandemic-driven, intentionally gentle distancing overlays the healing and restoration of mottled time.

As I paint, I simultaneously consider the harmony between aesthetic and object, which often delays the completion of each piece until it achieves a sense of dynamic equilibrium—imperfect yet harmonious. For example, when interacting with adorable animals, beyond pure delight, there is a mutual acknowledgment across the canvas and the space opposite it, a greeting between two worlds.

There are two kinds of forgetting: one, natural disappearance from memory; the other, something long unremembered but still preserved. Both are forms of honesty—not pretending to forget what one clearly remembers. Like a travel plan from six months ago, memories naturally fade. At first glance, the work may seem distant from its initial sketches, yet its DNA persists—the coexistence of past and present.

The creative gestation resembles living alone on vast hills: gatherings and feasts fill some of the plains and hollows, while the changing seasons seem to arrive too quickly to fully greet or farewell. The freedom in creation must be balanced with the discipline of refinement; forced freedom is impossible. Beyond diligence, when familiar seasons return, there remain special moments, naturally memorable, that the work preserves.