ZHONG Q​i

A decade ago, I found myself with ample time to spare and took a drive around the lakeshore closest to my home. Amidst the embrace of mountains and waters, a silent energy quietly began to reshape my perception and understanding of natural landscapes. Ten years later, having completed “Theater of the Yangtze River ™” and gained a faint intuition for the flowing imagery of rivers and streams, I finally returned to this energy field that has ever since rippled gently in the depths of my heart.

 

This lake, vast as an ocean. Standing by its edge, gazing toward the opposite shore, that ambiguous, elusive distance always reminds me of the geography concept of the "antipodal point." And the connection between these two points exists only through a straight, dotted line extended from my gaze. In my personal philosophy, "distance" is a profoundly subjective, almost idealistic notion. It feels near or far not by the measure of a ruler or the span of miles, but according to the shifting circumstances and states of mind in each present moment.

 

I can choose any point along the shore of the lake as a starting place and set out to circle the lake. This starting point will inevitably become my endpoint; and the endpoint, in the moment I turn, transforms into a new beginning. Whether I stand on the southern or northern shore, sitting cross-legged by the water, if I have enough patience, I can witness the moon appear where the sun once rose. Should my strength and will endure, I can also wait in the direction where the moon vanishes, and after the transition through darkness, see the sun rise once more.

 

“Moonlake Sunmirage”— taking Taihu Lake as its archetype, constructs a spiritual mirror in the moonrise and sunset, the waxing and waning, the endless cycles of ending and beginning; between emptiness and substance, distance and proximity, commencement and conclusion; within the seamlessly interwoven flow of energy. Just like the lake itself, round as the Taiji symbol.

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Zhong Qi, 2025​​​