Civilization might have begun with digging caves.

The caves from the Stone Age have been adopted into my painting, where tools, bodies, caves, mass graves – connected to our bodies, have evolved, declined, and reborn with us.

My practice revolves around this subject, which has been directly impacted by my research on Qin and Han Dynasties' artifacts, ethereal clouds shrouding the sky like the revel of the spiritual dragon, such orderly composition introduces an atmosphere of the past millennium before me.

At times opaque while others lucid, intertwined, and transformed from one another – these are the ineffable impressions.

Contemplating in front of a blank canvas, I struggle, feel divided, reluctant, and excited at the same time, as the paintbrush lands on canvas, my conscience becomes explicit or even unreserved.

Following these guidelines, I began to dig my cave.

The layers at the entrance project a ghostly and spiritual presence. The artifacts are the fallen petals from that world. The main excavated from Mawangdui is the point of departure for my practice. Initially, I sought out the resonance between patterns and channels to establish their internal relationship, at the same time, adopting this approach to challenge my ambiguous mode of expression.

Traces on the artifacts and the impression from the ceramics became the blueprint for the colors on canvas. With these clues, the colors demonstrate freedom. The appropriation of images magnifies the questions, while the formal language on canvas could not compromise the formal qualities of the patterns.

This exhibition extends from the previous, “See It," the sound installation built in the wall encapsulates the shadow of imperial tombs, set vertically as it stands at the entrance of a pitch- dark cave. One's body might feel tight, and the impulse to go in urges one to move forward. This strange physical response made me realize that the void and ambiguous body is a world of itself, like the drops of water spattering, or the motionless ice.

The unconscious void, like the wall built with gauze, is as opaque as one's existence and breath.

Slowly, I gave up on adopting the patterns but has kept the square channels, allowing its form to release energy off the blank canvas, while the qualities of color have not been lost in the absence of the patterns; perhaps that execution was done with a particular understanding.

The square channel has become opaque and intangible, and freedom of using colors invigorates me that allow me to make new decisions.

The channels do not have designated forms, which can be any or none. Once the idea for square boundary has been undermined, the relationship with the other end seems apparent, yet nothing is visible. There is a kind of intimacy, one that propels to get closer, in an unhinged command. Taking freedom as a pet, taste as a gown, I began to meander between the canvases.

“When there is nothing, there is the use of utensils; when the house is chiseled, there is the use of rooms: So there is something for profit, there is nothing for usage." The void Laotzu referred to is not the lack thereof, for example, the useful part of a cup is where it's empty, the empty space in a house is what people inhabit; hence, the same must be true for the cave.

For me, the formless is also the caves and holes, the immense void, and the power beyond the objects. My earlier practice focused on the aspects of form. Then, I preferred flowers over the soil, now I am much more interested in the formless, as the exchange of energy can be just as wonderful.

Artistic practice is a continuous process of trial error, where one often has to reject the parts that seem satisfying. Revisions allow one to leave indecisions behind and embrace the outcome.

This kind of rejection shapes the outcome of unique painted layers, which is as solid as stones, as traceless as water, and as impermanent as all beings.