Nearby, several withered trees are standing by a river. In the distance, a brush of green mountains present themselves vaguely.

We don’t know what the trees are looking at and what they are waiting for.

Lead by your thoughts, you escape the predicament of life, traverse time and space, and meet the traces of ice and shadows of snow in your mind.

You are eager to be a tree who, by the bank of soul, sees prosperity wanes, noise falls into silence, water bubbles, clouds stroll and leaves flutter during four seasons.

Courtesy of the artist