I never believe that creation exists to convey a defined meaning.
The world holds no inherent meaning, and the universe offers no answers.
We are but specks of dust adrift in the eternal night of the meta-cosmos, shining only because existence itself is a silent act of combustion.
In this boundless darkness, light is not salvation—it’s merely a fleeting response.
I do not seek the light, nor do I fear the dark, for darkness is the essence of the universe, and romance is born precisely from this austere void.
My work emerges from a gaze into “nothingness.”
Every stroke, every color, is a trace of dialogue with the void—not to construct meaning, but to dismantle obsession.
I embrace this eternal night,
Where day and night dissolve, time becomes weightless, and all that remains are existences supporting and forgetting each other in the infinite.
For me, creation is not about telling stories or evoking emotional resonance—
It is a calm reflection through the realm of nothingness, again and again.
If my art must have a direction,
It is this: to shine within the void, to be complete within the silence.
When all things return to extinction, the stardust remains—
speaking no joy or sorrow, leaving only a lingering warmth.
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