"The grass on the wilderness grows from year to year. A wildfire cannot be burnt to the ground; the breeze of spring grows again." - Bai Juyi 

As I looked back at the photographs taken over the past few years, I was also thinking about what represented the ego. I unconsciously pressed some of the shutters and found some clues. At first, I was drawn to the vast expanse of barren land; then, I became interested in the large areas of weeds within. The fragility and tenacity of life in the grass intrigued me. It reminded me of myself as a photographer. 

When I finished photographing a group of grasses in different conditions, some burned and died, some grew stubbornly in the cracks of rocks, some in a succession stage, a cycle of life. Some grew vigorously and took over the entire abandoned house. Some of the grass grew more luxuriously than the rice paddies.

The different brushing methods enhanced the uniqueness of the state of each grass through the reworking of the classic craft, kallitype. I framed the grasses in their various forms on bamboo paper, where classical beauty and modernity blended into one mystery while giving the grasses a unique sense of presence.

Eventually, the batch of grasses went back to the place where I originally photographed them.

 Let it be born in nature and return to nature.