The body of the giant dancer has not truly disappeared; rather, it has lost its boundaries. The luster of pearl powder, green particulate matter, and grayish-white limestone powder interpenetrate one another, causing this gigantic presence to appear and recede by turns.

It is not a body in the process of dissolving into particles, but rather a life form temporarily assembled from countless particles. The body is no longer a stable, enclosed entity, but a state of trembling that is continuously generating, flowing, and dispersing.

This existence derives from my bodily memory of Guilin's landscape. It possesses both the weight, antiquity, and unshakability of rock, and the lightness, drift, and elusiveness of the mist among streams and waterfalls. Monumental scale and the ephemerality of dance converge here, where permanence and transience, weight and lightness, coexist simultaneously.

Detail pictures: