Etude-While strolling through Brühl's Terrace in the gathering darkness Ⅱ Painting

We are born as the fragments of the stars shining in space, and are thrown into a strange journey called fate. On this path, while we take on this being called 'me ' and create ourselves, we face other beings thrown here and they make up the world of 'me.' In the dynamics of the things that exist in this world, the implications of others that occur by chance or by causality give layers of skin called names to each of us. Thus, the names of the past that surround 'me' define the 'me' of the present, and show me the new horizons of the names that will settle on top, within the layers of the names, the constantly renewing 'me' pushes the wheels of existence, feeling the path as I go Within the skin is an abyss. An inner self, different from the external links, and the light of shame is buried inside. The inner light transmits its unique signal towards the world. The signal is like a poem; it gives a different meaning and value to different people, and only shows its worth to those with the right wavelength. The self, which is finally expressed, emerges from its thin layer of concealment and swims through space and time with the wings of Hermes. Today, the city is full of lights blooming and wilting, as always. The light is a light that radiates by itself from the inside of the beings called 'me' and 'the world', and at the same time, reflects on each other. The Moon revolves around this city, with a secret hidden inside, and reflecting a different light each night. The water flows from here to there, colliding with the rocks in various shapes and sizes, shaving the skin off the stones. The waves breathe, swelling, and sinking. The scenery, which resembles the form of being seem new and unfamiliar. On the road, if I were to spread out the contents of the backpack of being called 'me' it will look like a list of words that keep changing and don't seem to go together. This superficial sense of difference are ingredients that cover the scenery with a hazy mirage. It is a window for 'me' to communicate with 'the world,' as I dabble in the profoundness of the world of the mind, feign knowledge with unbelievable words, and transmit signals of contradictory self-indulgence.