Over the years, I’ve waited for the clouds to part and reveal the moon, yet the shadows surrounding me have only grown heavier. There were times I was overjoyed, believing I had glimpsed certain truths of art, only to have those same beliefs shattered over and over by the weight of contradictions.
Buildings rise and fall, so I began seeking shapeless things as my material—because what has no shape cannot be destroyed. Eternity became my material, moments became my material, the invisible, the immaterial.
Eternity is simply what exists forever; destruction is what ceases to be. Eternal life is eternity plus freedom—an eternal existence in a world of freedom, where the eternal coexists with the free, and together they become boundless. Life must hold the possibility of death to truly be life. What cannot die is not life—it is eternal existence. And eternal existence is neither life nor death, for in being eternal, it is a never-living, never-dying state—eternal death.
Human life is filled with suffering, much of it rooted in desire. Even eternity is a kind of desire. If moments can be eternal, could this solve the riddle? Perhaps, it could soothe some of our obsessions.
No one truly knows what art is. Art is like the moon—it’s hard to say whether the vibrant light we see at dusk belongs to the sun or the moon. Satellite signals have shown us too many possible faces of the moon, and too many things obscure it from our view. We’ve seen so many cheap, virtual versions of the moon that we can no longer trust the real one. We must go to distant places to see her true face, but even then, she remains the same moon.
We are also the satellites of the moon.
Yet, I no longer cling to knowing this truth, because no one knows it. Perhaps science can dissect the moon, but that’s not what we seek. It’s precisely because there are so many obstacles between us and the moon that we love her. Dusk and dawn are often similar, for we cannot distinguish between the sun and the moon in those moments.
The weight of lightness, and the lightness of weight.
I only want to watch from afar, just as I watch the moon from a distance. Wading through water doesn’t mean owning the river. I don’t seek to possess the moon, nor do I desire anything from her. Her presence alone is enough—I only ask that she bears witness.
There is so much sorrow buried deep within me. Expression and humor seem like mere attempts to conceal that sorrow. After all these years of making art, after so long expressing myself, it seems I’ve only learned how to keep my wounds fresh.
I’ve had moments of happiness, but it seems I’ve never known lasting, enduring joy and bliss. Yet a moment can be an eternity—told you.
Something is On the Way, Yet to Come.
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以上艺术家简介作为工作需要，可直接复制使用。如果你问我内心到底在想什么，看下面这些。
这些年来守得云开见月明，但同时笼罩我的阴霾也越来越多。我曾为探得一些艺术的真相狂喜，也因辩证而一次次摧毁我的信念。
楼起楼塌，于是我开始寻找一些没有形状的东西作为材料。原本就没有形状，那么建造出来就不会毁灭。永恒作为材料，瞬间作为材料，无形作为材料，无为作为材料，非物质作为材料。
永恒是永远在，毁灭就是不在了。永生是永恒加上自由在，即永恒的人在自由世界的人生，永远在和自由在，即自由自在。生命必须要可以死，才能被称为生命，不能死的就是永生。永生就是没有死，没有死就没有活着，永生就是没有活着，也没有活过，所以永生就是永死。
瞬间可以就是永恒，永恒也可以只是瞬间。
人的一生受苦受难，多半是欲望之苦。永恒也是一种欲望，那瞬间作为永恒，来解答这个疑问，是不是就能宽慰一些执着。
没人知道艺术是什么。她像月亮一样，很难说清傍晚那鲜艳的光是太阳还是月亮。卫星信号让我们看到太多月亮可能的面貌，而遮挡月亮和我们之间的阻碍太多了，以至于廉价虚拟的月亮看多了，便无法相信真实的月亮。我们要去不同的地方才能看到她真实的面目，可月亮始终是同一个月亮。
我们也是月亮的卫星。
可我也不执着于知道这个真相了，因为没人知道，或许可以以一种科学的方法去解剖月亮，但那不是我们想要的，正因为我们与月亮的阻碍太多了，我们才爱她。傍晚和清晨总有相似性，因为我们分不清那是太阳还是月亮。
沉重的轻盈，和轻盈的沉重。
我只想远远地看着这一切，正如远远地看着月亮。涉水而过不代表拥有整条河流，我不想要拥有月亮，我不图她什么，她在那里就好了，我只求她见证就好了。
我的内心深处有太多的悲伤，表达和幽默似乎都是为了掩盖这层悲伤，做了这么久的艺术，表达了这么久，似乎只学会了怎么给伤口保鲜。
我有开心幸福的瞬间，但我好像从未有过恒久绵长的喜悦。但瞬间可以就是永恒，告诉过你。
也别回见了，先这样吧。