映 Reflect, 72.5x91cm, 混合媒材 Mixed Media, 2014

煙雨中的水塘裡浮動著無名的水生植物，岸邊植物或虛或實地掩藏自己，上空濃霧彌漫，水面波光粼粼。灰朦的天空，斜斜地低垂在遠山的背後。眺望朦朧天色，猶如潑墨傾瀉。頓時腦中浮起王國維的詞：滿地霜華濃似雪，人語西風，瘦馬嘶殘月。一曲陽關渾未徹，車聲漸共砍聲咽。換盡天涯芳草色，陌上深深，依舊年時轍。自是浮生無可說，人間第一耽離別。

In the misty rain, nameless aquatic plants float in the pond, while the plants along the shore conceal themselves, either partially or fully. Above, thick fog pervades, and the water surface shimmers with reflections. The sky, gray and hazy, hangs low behind the distant mountains. Gazing into the misty sky feels like ink being poured onto a canvas. Suddenly, Wang Wei’s verse comes to mind: “Frost covers the ground thick as snow, voices fade in the west wind, thin horses neigh under the waning moon. A song from Yang Pass remains unfinished, the sound of wheels gradually mingles with the sound of axes. Despite the changing grass colors across the horizon, the deep furrows on the roadside remain as they were in past years. Life’s transience is beyond words, the ultimate indulgence in separation within this world.”