As always, spring comes and seasons pass.
As a child, my dream was to draw a genre painting.
My dream, which was hanging somewhere in the cloud hanging at the foot of the mountain,
ran with excitement one day when I met ceramics.
“If I paint on that porcelain, the painting will live for a thousand years.”
So I walked into the story of the soil and fire.
It is not easy to touch the soil,
but the infinite world of ceramics is a heartbreaking event that made 30 years pass like a gift to me.
If I were to engrave a pattern on a pot that resembles a round moon, I would think of something like this.
It was definitely completed at my fingertips, but I don't know where it started and ended.
I discover the continuity of infinity in a limited space.
It can contain any shape, color, even heart...
As always, spring comes and seasons pass.