We knew you’d leave. Your mom and I knew when you were just a little boy that the things we had would never be enough for you. And so what. Good. We encouraged it and dreaded it all the same. Everything was okay until I started noticing the little things your mom would say in passing. Those tiny seeds she’s planted with such a subtle touch. I’d just watch her sink them down then sprinkle them with just enough water to let them grow inside you. Like how she’d always say your sister wouldn’t have someone to stick up for her with you not around. What would happen when we got old and sickly? Legitimate concerns to some extent, but nothing to suggest you ought to have stayed. Some things some people need to learn the hardest ways or never at all. Like why to stay or leave a place. I know you’re out doing something special somewhere. I know you left because you wanted to find some things you couldn’t leave.
ARTIST | Liu Dao 六岛 | |||
MEDIA | RGB LED display, Chinese papercut (Jian Zhi 剪紙), paper collage,teakwood frame | |||
EDITION | Unique | |||
DATE | Made in island6, Shanghai 2015 | |||
SIZE | 103(W)×103(H)×5(D) cm |