Title: Between Stability and Disturbance: A Subtle Balance in Dreams
Introduction: The Space Between Calm and Change
This artwork started from a quiet wish — to build something stable and beautiful.
I wanted the colors to breathe softly and the shapes to stay in a gentle balance.
In the first hour, I tried to create this sense of peace, like building order inside a sacred space.
Then, in the next hour, I began to disturb it.
I made small cracks, twists, and ripples in the image, like waves spreading after a stone drops into still water.
But that calm never really disappeared. The beauty and sense of enjoyment were still there only now something inside began to tremble.
In the end, I wanted the work to show a quiet sadness, but without giving any clear reason.
It feels like a dream too beautiful, full of peace and Zen, but also too complete to really understand.
A dream that comforts you, but also hides from being fully seen.
Visual and Conceptual Structure
In the center of the painting, a baby deer floats between birth and death, surrounded by burning fire.
Below it, organs, flowers, and bones twist together they look like both the inside of a body and the endless space of the universe.
Repeated patterns move through the whole painting.
Each line and symbol follows the rhythm of daily life small, simple actions that gain meaning when they happen again and again.
I am interested in this quiet contradiction: the calm that hides in the narrow, repeating parts of life.
After finishing the painting, it made me think of “Paris, Texas” a film full of opposites, both peaceful and strange, both daily and dreamlike.
In this tension, I try to find balance between control and freedom, stillness and change, dream and decay.
Methodology: Materials, Process, and Interference
This painting is made with acrylic on canvas.
At first, I painted carefully and slowly. Then I began to interfere I covered, repainted, and scratched the parts that looked too perfect.
Each act of breaking became another act of creating.
This process feels a bit like rock climbing.
When you climb, it’s not only about pulling hard it’s also about feeling the small movements, the balance, the tiny changes in the body and mind.
In painting, I try to turn that same rhythm into a visual language a fragile but steady pulse of life.
Emotional and Philosophical Echo
I don’t want this work to be trapped by one single meaning.
I want it to exist as a system of feelings gentle, anxious, beautiful, and a little rotten at the same time.
It shows a kind of tired beauty, a mourning for something that has no name.
But I don’t want this sadness to be too clear, because I believe the things we cannot explain are often the most real.
To refuse a clear meaning is also a kind of honesty.
It accepts the dark parts of life and the uncertain nature of dreams.
To live inside a dream doesn’t mean to fully understand it only to feel it.