✦ 我的創作，是讓脆弱成為一種可以被承載的形式。

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第一章｜重新定義積極與剛強

作為一位自體免疫疾病患者，我的身體處於一場沒有敵人的內戰之中。醫學以抑制免疫作為策略，使身體從過度的對抗轉為一種必要的脆弱。這種「減弱」，並非失敗，而是一種為了存續而達成的平衡。

在這樣的狀態裡，我開始理解，積極不必然意味著強勢前進，剛強也不必然指向堅硬不屈。有時，選擇不再對抗，反而是一種更深層的積極。所謂的軟弱，並非缺失，而是生命得以持續的條件。

 

第二章｜以繪畫回應身體的狀態

我以水墨回應這樣的身體經驗。反覆出現的畫面，來自日常的微小差異——如同身體的狀態，沒有劇烈的起伏，卻始終在變化。

畫面中的墨跡不追求濃烈與決斷，而是一種被壓抑後的緩慢流動。這些痕跡，既像被抑制的白血球，也像城市中低限度運作的人們——不激烈、不耀眼，卻是維持存在的方式。

在當代過於沉重的語境之中，我選擇一種「不直接凝視」的觀看方式，如同帕修斯以鏡面避開美杜莎的目光。我不拒絕現實，而是以更輕、更慢的方式承擔它。

 

第三章｜傳統的另一種可能

傳統往往提供一種強而有力的典範，定義何為「好」。然而在當代，這些過度明確的標準反而成為壓力的來源。

因此，我選擇讓「弱」成為語言。點、線與淡墨的使用，不再服務於結構或表現，而更接近於遺留與生成。這些不穩定、無方向的痕跡，並非失序，而是一種減少摩擦的存在方式。

如同免疫抑制劑一般，它們不是為了勝利，而是為了讓生命能夠持續。

 

第四章｜創作與弱山水的意義

對我而言，創作是直視瑕疵，並承擔這些瑕疵的過程。那些無意留下的痕跡，如同水漬般短暫卻真實，是生命正在發生的證據。

在這樣的過程中，創作不再追求完成，而是一種日常的延續——如同煮飯、進食與入睡，每一個動作都成為存在的證明。

我將這些作品稱為「弱山水」。它們不再是宏大與壯麗的自然象徵，而是一種柔軟的存在狀態——在脆弱之中仍然承載，在不完整之中仍然成為。

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✦ Holding fragility in form.

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Chapter 1｜Redefining Strength

Living with an autoimmune condition means existing within a body that turns against itself. Medical intervention does not aim to strengthen, but to suppress—to reduce intensity in order to sustain life.

In this state, I began to understand that strength does not always manifest as force. Sometimes, the act of not resisting is itself a form of resilience. What appears as weakness may, in fact, be a necessary condition for survival.

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Chapter 2｜Painting the Body

My paintings reflect this bodily condition. Repetitive forms emerge through subtle daily variations, mirroring a body that is neither stable nor dramatically changing, but constantly shifting.

The ink does not assert itself. It moves slowly, like a restrained force—echoing suppressed immunity, or the quiet persistence of urban life. It is not intensity, but continuity that sustains existence.

In response to the overwhelming weight of the contemporary condition, I adopt an indirect gaze—like Perseus, who avoided Medusa’s gaze through reflection. I do not turn away from reality, but engage with it through lightness.

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Chapter 3｜Another Reading of Tradition

Tradition often defines clarity, strength, and form. Yet in the present, these ideals can become burdens.

I choose instead to work with fragility. Points, faint lines, and diluted ink no longer construct, but accumulate. These marks are not structured—they are remnants, traces of becoming.

Like immunosuppressants, they do not aim to conquer, but to allow life to continue.

 

Chapter 4｜Weak Landscapes and the Meaning of Creation

Creation, for me, is the act of acknowledging imperfection and carrying it forward. The marks that remain—like water stains—are transient, yet undeniable.

Art becomes a continuation of living: cooking, eating, resting—each gesture a form of existence.

I call these works “weak landscapes.” They do not depict nature’s grandeur, but hold a quieter state of being—where fragility persists, and where, within limitation, one continues to become.