But under the magnifying glass, the landscape of this little guy resembles the outer space, the planet’s surface. The cube itself is a composition of layers of nature’s art works resurfacing in an exhibition hall.
The lines caustic by the little small cubes, each and every pieces representing a turning point in life; a turning point affecting the next position. Just like the curvy turning point of a mountain, pooling the little shot of our own story.
It is my wife’s latest seed picking collection from the park outside, looking at the Murraya, it’s stretching it’s arms like a child, awaiting from the embrace of its mother, smiling in the sun’s warmth palm.
Do you see its freedom…friends?
It has fertile soil, it has plenty of moisture, it has carefree innocence.
No toys required， it has the freedom of a bawl. It has the right of its fall. Liberty to its own poignancy.
No intention to provide it with special care, as it was given the wings of freedom, to make its childhood significant.