Exhibition Duration：2015. 02. 07 — 03. 17
Open Hours：10:00 - 22:00
Venue：Kui Yuan Gallery, No.9, Xuguyuan Road,Yuexiu District, Guangzhou
|Basketball Stand Mixed media on paper|
|Float No.4 Mixed media on paper|
|Hotbed No.1 Mixed media on paper|
|Hotbed No.2 Mixed media on paper|
|The Cage No.2 Mixed media on paper|
2014 was a busy and rush year. Something occurred due to change, something ended because of the stationary. I tried to present my life on the paper, but when I painted pictures, I found the painting paper is pale. Because of the unlimited expansion of memory and imagination. This section of memory flow with the time, as if I going to lose myself, but also as if due to the weight of reality showed the true picture. This kind of feeling that is creating excitement from heart to hands, let me gradually like put the things around me on the painting.
These works are warm, like a flick that can not be wipe off, enlightening my memory. My father's last period of time, walking around the hospital, bed become his last place which belongs to his last time, and I record the bed time daily across the scene. The same point of view, different details to tell, when these records gradually mounting a whole series of hotbed, which brings to me is the endless lost and thoughts, but surely that period of unforgettable time changed me, changed my work form. During that time, shuttling across hospital day and night, bed become the symbol of warm consciousness deep into my heart, thus series of works which creation has become a hotbed for me. When the inner thoughts flows ups and downs, the picture is changed into or the flow disturbing, or calm leisurely.
"The road on the way home, old houses in my hometown, objects in the space......" lots of things connected with these years many emotions, this is a lost time also is a growing time; this is a frustrated time also is a quiet time; this is a lonely time also is a firm time! As these works, they are entangled and pure, complex and clean.
The works portrayal vision to me in these years, such as film, frame by frame record down different personnel. People come and go, the objects quietly dock there, waiting for a bunch of pure light.