The flower is a wonder.
How could it have such a beautiful colour and shape when it doesn’t have any eyes?
If it’s purpose was just for pollination then was it really necessary to have so much diversity?
Observing flowers with this question in mind, I realised that they are not really dressing up but are life itself.
Since then, I don’t see a flower by its name or type but an existence that accepts its appearance and lives it.
That appearance is unconscious, pure and honest.
This is what I was daydreaming about in a small cafe in Qingdao.
I glanced at the ceiling and saw a soft and transparent light coming through the leaves.
Every time the wind blew, the light changed and overlapped the flower.
I haven’t created anything new.
But merely carefully copied what was in front of me.
Because the unconscious beauty was already there.