The Metaphor of Exile: Seeing as Estrangement
Text by Chang Tsung Hsien

In its historical context, “exile” often signifies a punitive form of banishment—a forced expulsion of the individual from the center of power and the established order, compelling them into an unfamiliar and marginalized space. Such movement is not merely a change in geographical location; it also involves the stripping away of identity and the reconfiguration of one’s place of being. The exiled no longer belongs to the original social structure, but must instead reposition the self within an unstable boundary. Yet when “exile” is transformed into a cultural and philosophical metaphor, it is no longer confined to political or historical events; rather, it becomes a description of a condition of existence—a mode of living that remains perpetually at a distance.

Within the experience of seeing, one is always situated in a form of estrangement that cannot be fully dissolved. On the one hand, the image reveals the world and renders it visible; on the other, it simultaneously opens up a distance between the viewer and the world. Seeing is not equivalent to arrival. On the contrary, it continually reminds us of the rupture between ourselves and reality. When we gaze at an image, we are both present and absent; both near and unable to touch. Seeing thus ceases to be a mastery of the world and instead becomes a mode of contact marked by alienation, an experiential state suspended between proximity and absence. In this sense, seeing itself becomes a form of existential “exile.”

Within the context of image culture, photography makes this exilic structure especially explicit. As a technology, photography is often regarded as a device for preserving reality, yet its essence points instead toward the fracture of time and the absence of being. In Camera Lucida, Roland Barthes proposes that what the photograph declares is ça a été—“that-has-been.” The image proves that something once existed, but is now no longer there. The image, therefore, is not merely representation; it is also a testimony of time, a witness to what has vanished. Every act of looking at a photograph is a re-experience of a reality already lost, as well as a subtle invocation of death and absence. Photography here does not simply capture reality; it transforms reality into an irreversible past, placing the viewer before something ghostly. It is precisely this experience of “non-presence” that endows photography with an inherent temporality of exile.

Yet seeing is not a purely perceptual act; it is also a crucial site for the operation of power. Michel Foucault’s theory of disciplinary society points out that the power of modern society does not reside solely in macroscopic structures of domination, but permeates the minutiae of everyday life through surveillance, classification, and regulation. Photography, as a technological medium that can be reproduced, archived, and compared, becomes an important extension of this mechanism of power. From ID photographs and surveillance images to archival photographs and news images, photography continuously incorporates individuals into systems of visibility and manageability. Within such a visual regime, the photographed subject often loses control over their own image; their body and existence are transformed into objects to be viewed, analyzed, and classified. The subject is thus forced into a “position of being seen,” becoming the other within the image. This process is not only a form of representation, but also a symbolic exile—one that removes the individual from their own subjectivity and places them within the framework of the gaze.

Furthermore, this exile does not occur only to the photographed subject; the viewer is equally unable to remain outside it. In front of the image, the viewer appears to hold the dominant position, yet is likewise incorporated into the structure of seeing constituted by the image itself. While gazing upon the image, the viewer is also looked back at by it, and in this interactive relation loses any stable position. Seeing is no longer a one-way act, but a relational field in which the boundary between subject and object is constantly blurred and reconfigured. The viewer seeks meaning in the image, yet is at the same time rearranged and repositioned by it, becoming another form of being-seen. Thus, seeing becomes a double exile: it is both a gaze cast upon the other and a loss of one’s own position.

Therefore, “exile” should not be understood merely as a historical or political event, but as an existential condition embedded within the structure of seeing. In photography and visual culture, we are always moving along a path of exile. This path entails spatial displacement, distancing us from our original sense of belonging; it entails temporal rupture, through which the present is constantly transformed into the past; and it entails the alienation of body and perception, rendering experience indirect and unstable. The image not only records the world; it simultaneously estranges us from it, turning us into foreigners within the act of seeing.

This exhibition does not attempt to construct a single, unambiguous theme. Rather, it presents a continuously emerging state of seeing. Each work is a pause made by the photographer in a state of exile, a fragment of intuitive gaze and perception. These images do not necessarily form a coherent narrative, yet together they constitute a field of seeing—a field concerned with distance, absence, and existence. Here, the image is no longer merely an object to be understood, but a medium through which the viewer enters an experience of estrangement.

Thus, seeing is no longer merely seeing. It is a departure, and also an arrival; a coming close, and also a losing. Within the image, we seek the world, and gradually lose it as well. Exile, then, becomes the deepest metaphor of seeing, while estrangement becomes the position of vision we cannot evade.

Dream Journey in boundless, liminal space is a creative journey centered on walking, gazing, and perception.

Using nihonga (mineral pigment painting) as his primary medium, Chu-ying Lai portrays the multiple states of life as they unfold through the flow of time and space—morning glories blooming at dawn, plants gathering strength deep beneath the soil, fireworks that vanish in an instant, and soft-bodied creatures drifting in the sea.

Though these beings may appear unfamiliar to us, each reveals a distinct resilience and spirit along its own journey. The artist seeks to gather those moments of pausing—of stopping, breathing, and gazing—into the act of long, continuous movement, inviting viewers to find their own rhythms within the interplay of light and shadow.

As one of the most noteworthy emerging artists working in nihonga, Chu-ying Lai moves beyond the medium’s conventional emphasis on material beauty and decorative qualities through diverse techniques and multiple perspectives.

His practice engages deeply with the relationship between humans and nature, with particular focus on the transformation and reconstruction of light. In his paintings, light is no longer a mere naturalistic representation; through the artist’s deliberate modulation and selection, it becomes a symbolic language of emotion and inner experience. Under veils of luminous glow, forms shift from the tangible toward the illusory, where reality and imagination intertwine, revealing a vital atmosphere that is warm and hazy, lucid yet quietly enigmatic.

The works presented in this exhibition trace Chu-ying Lai’s years of exploration in the field of nihonga, while also reflecting the ongoing vitality of Taiwanese mineral pigment painting within a contemporary context. More than a visual feast of light and shadow, this exhibition unfolds as a long, dreamlike journey—one that meditates on life, time, and perception.
 

In Hsiao-Meng Su’s creative world, metal is no longer a hard/cold or indifferent/senseless material, but a weaver of dreams.

The works of the Complex series are like those of a weaver of dreams, knitting with metal threads, turning every emotion and every strand of dreams into moving pictures.

Every metal wire or thread is a string of her soul. These metal threads turn and twist slowly, but also dance along with her figures as if they acquire life and resonate with each other.

The seemly cold and hard metal becomes soft and alive in her hands, leading us forward in a dream journey, into a world abundant with feelings and dreams.  

2024 paradise - Solo exhibition of Ching-chih Chen

Kiln-fired glass, canvas, paper sculpture

There is a beautiful planet in the vast universe that is known as earth, the place where we live. There are also many unknown worlds in our beautiful home, but the human beings who claim to be the spirits of all things have made wars and plagues. In so doing, people are separated from each other and communication is stopped as the epidemic spreads in the world ... When human beings put masks on and their movements are restricted, the source of pollution gradually decreases, and the animals begin to rejuvenate.

The themes that artists focus on are inseparable from their own background and experience. Being a woman myself, women have been the conscious subject of my work. The creation of the little girl began in 2019, and no matter how old the woman or man is, there is always a little girl or little boy living in her/his heart. That little girl is the origin of my art work.

The games with animals in the story Little Red Riding Hood, for example, resembles joyfulness between the little girl and the animals in the Garden of Eden. The ‘circle’ is not only the entrance for the little girl to travel through the ‘space-time tunnel’ but also the exit for her return to reality. The animals have their own symbolic meaning, and there are various relationship between the little girl and the animals. For example, protection, love, fun, humour and irony. The characteristics of innocence, purity and the dream-state of the little girl are shown through the bright and strong colors of glass ... And the characteristic features of glass make the work look like bubbles, precious and yet fragile. They symbolize peace and warmth, and can go pop! at any time.
 

‘Circles’ are like bubbles or floating islands. They can pay random visit among the islands... This is a utopia of Ching-Chih's imaginary world. In there, the little girl can play as much as she wishes with different animals until being exhausted. In the virtual imagination, the little girl symbolizes coexistence between pure innocence and beauty of human beings with animals. Only then will the earth have a better future, and it belongs to the utopia (paradise) that the author is longing for.

The ‘Glaze Poetry’ is an experimental creation from kiln-fired glass. It uses the circle as the dominate feature, because such a shape can accommodate all things. In my experiment, I tried to imbed all sorts of imaginings in the glass, including my connection with land, and my daily activities. The glass contains soil, plants, moss, sand, seeds dug from fruits, woven metal, lace, zippers from old clothes, etc … these were brought back from my travels across Taiwan. The glass was fired and quenched in the kiln at more than 800 degrees. 

Yellow – Shaw Yan Chen Solo Exhibition

When our eyes open, at that moment, we see what is in front of us because of light. Vision arouses our desire, lead us to possess and to change our behaviours. The accumulation of life experience produces qualitative changes in our vision. Changes in society, science, values, beliefs, etc. have made visual language constantly innovate. This reminds me of the Impressionists of the nineteenth century. After the invention of easy-to-carry soft tin tubes of paint, painters began to leave the studio, the aristocracy, and memory. They turned to nature – in other words, they turned to their true selves. How should I put it? I think confronting nature means facing the original and unprocessed state, which is the instinctive and wild condition of human beings. So, the paintings after that stage begin to embrace human nature and truth; this also marked the origin of my interest.

With the development of science, the invention of photography and video cameras negated the point of realistic painting. With this has come a shift from objective realism to subjective realism. Painting creates a world, like a new realistic space. Painting began to become pluralistic, democratic. There arose a spirit of painting that relied on scientific and rational analysis, and there was also painting that reflected impulsive language that shows human instincts. With the changes and evolution over time, painting has been transforming with humans. For me, the biggest change in my painting, or the change in seeing, came from computer 3D animation, which I majored in at university. That kind of model is constructed virtually, in software, and at the same time it can be lit virtually, and textures can be added to make it look real. The process of creating an animated video through rendering is really amazing.

One second of video is actually made up of 24 or more still images – it is this that gives us an illusion of reality. Reality itself is always moving and changing, playing continuously like a cartoon, chewing on the meaning of time and space. The concept of continuous pictures can be seen in the construction of my paintings, with traces of lines and joins. Repeated points and lines also appear very often in my early works. The sense of dynamics comes from the repetition and continuity of slight changes. Arising from my research on visual presentation, I focus on the structure and inner psychological condition. Therefore, the colour on the surface seems to be torn apart by me, and painting with the most basic black and white is more realistic and authentic to me. Maybe because I lived in a city at the time, I thought grey was the colour of my surroundings. All feelings were eliminated by rapid flow, what was left to support me to continue was only the lowest spiritual structure.

In 2020, due to the pandemic, I moved back to Taidong, and my body, mind and soul were finally able to be recharged. It felt as if I had found a long-lost tranquillity. The scenery here has always been salvation. They are not big mountains and big rivers, but simplicity and tranquillity. Their saturated colours have diluted the original grey in my heart as time goes by, and the colours finally have a purpose: to be bright! When sun has just risen and shone orange light on the earth, as time goes by, it turns from yellow to white, and the slanted long shadows changed continuously. The appearance of the scenery continues to change over time, as if it is being sculpted, as if every period of time has its own peace. Indeed, the scenery in front of my eyes is composed of tranquillity.

What I paint and construct is not just a picture, but the free light and colour in the space through painting. The overlapping layers of brushstrokes and the splicing and combination of different colour blocks reflect the simple yet meaningful dialogue between the scenery and me, and the mutual balanced order in life. The simplified shape is a peaceful form for me. It is also a stable structure that I perceive from the environment. It is similar to the building blocks I played with when I was a child. I constantly find balance in the stacking. Through constant reassembly, landscape paintings allow me to see the light deep in my heart. The stable structure reflects the desire for existence and also regains the inner order. I think through landscape painting I have found a way of survival, especially in this troubled, anxious and conflict-ridden world, nature always manages to illuminate its original self.

Yellow, like the light of the sun, started my journey with colour. It did not only illuminate the road ahead, but also sowed the seeds and watered them with painting.

Shaw Yan Chen , 2024, August 1

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Photography Exhibition of Huang Sheng-Ming

By Chang Tsong-hsian

Existence precedes essence. What is the essential existence of photography? Is it a personal transcendental existence? Or is it a subjective existence? What this proposition may first need is to clarify the variability of real objects. In the process of viewing, selecting, cutting and then intervening in photography, and then giving new meaning to the world, what is the ultimate meaning that photography wants to present?

If we look at the essential characteristics of contemporary art, we must understand the invisible existence of images from a perspective which is divorced from reality. That is where the meaning lies, the visual language constructed by the photographer. The viewer must return to an exchangeable mind-set and realize that the image is not a single existence, but constantly generates meaning as the individual, time and perspective change.

What is the essence of photography? The traces presented by light are a form of being, a vision that translates the real world into a viewing perspective, cutting out reality and creating a new image language again. Whether the world really exists or not, for photographers Sheng-Ming, he was not concerned with immediate and visible meaning, but rather with the use of photography to express external imagination through personal imagination. In other words, it is a representational language. In a certain sense, it is the photographers profound internalized language from the external changes through the image. What is added to his photography is not just the moment of light and shadow, but the perspective of the spatial world, which gives the wholeness of what he sees through the writing of light. As Remi Hess said: ‘Space should be thought of as a whole’. Therefore, Sheng-Ming's works are more like a language of spatial transformation, a contemporary photographic sign and transformation, and a simplified and in-depth photographic practice.

Sheng-Ming's works create a ‘retention’ that can be remembered in the stream of consciousness of time. The display of such memorability along with his works allows us to awaken the consciousness of objects from viewing and to re-define the objects. In other words, the intensity of his images does not emphasize reality, but re-defines the essence of ‘being’ that once existed through the stream of consciousness experienced after seeing it. As to the technicality of photography, this is a kind of restoration – a return to the truth, a return to the forgotten self. In other words, photography restores the living world. The work only honestly grasps the artist's own description of reality and reinterprets his personal transcendental experience through images. Life and the world seem to be suspended. Just like Edmund Husserl's idea of the external view (Aussenhorizont), that he believed that the intuitive world cannot yet explain the world. But the inner horizon (Innenhorizont) can explain the essential world. Does this mean that the essence of photo is photography?

Sheng-Ming’s photography works have spatial characteristics and a shared present of time. The angle presented by his work transcends the obvious and becomes an imagination and extension of consciousness. If the camera were just a cold instrument, in this era of multi-digital imaging, the decisive moment is gradually banished to the edge of pretense. But Sheng-Ming still stays on the creative path of traditional photography. Perhaps we ask again, what else is needed for photography? If we look closely, we can see a kind of persistent affection in his work, and he uses his experience to give photography a warmth of light and shadow. In the field of imaging, ‘Huang Sheng-Ming’ this name marks the photographic vocabulary written with light. He became a real ‘being’ for himself in photography.

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I am a traveler. I use an ultra-self-oriented way to wander the streets and have dialogue with the space. Over my thirty years doing this, time passes and space changes. What remains the same is that I use lenses to reach the world, and I look at everything through the camera. Very often, while the lens is focused externally, I reflected inwardly. When the shutter is flashed/pressed/on, it races with unending time for 1/125 second. It seems as if I try to a find lost part of myself from somewhere in the world.

For me, filming is like creating a painting. Geometrical pattern has to come prior to a narrative. It has been my belief that a piece of creation has to have both form and content.  I want to provide imagination and visual impact for things of this secular world through filming. So I transform the image through poetic-style observation. This approach enriches my mind. In the process therefore I produce a narrative to record my own experience through capture of images.

The pictures of this exhibition sit between the real and the non-representational. Some of images were captured at right time by chance, turning moments into eternity. Some were the result of long-waiting: for ideal or desired light, people, locations. Waiting is a mindful practice. No matter it is an instant, or a long wait, it is instinct which determines whether to take the shot or not. An instinct called forth by the setting.

The works capture unplanned moments and planned waiting in many corners of Taiwan; the interesting scenes of the lobby of the Marina Bay Sands hotel in Singapore; a performance by the Golden Gate of the Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco; the romantic atmosphere when strolling on the street in Paris; net-like electric lines hanging above the streets of Neizu in Tokyo; and … Every photo, every work is a trip, a past, a memory. When selecting those works, it felt as if I was putting together the jigsaw of memory. All the good parts of travels revealed themselves again vividly.

Images are floating on the ocean of meaning; they were ever frozen in one corner. Roland Barthes said captions for images or this kind of text are like throwing an anchor into the sea, it stops the waves and tide of thought/mind/imagination, but fix the idea in one corner. What did I capture through my camera? Let the works speak for themselves. So I won’t provide any individual captions. What do you see? We shall leave the observers to decide for themselves, freely; though I hope there will be some sparks. This could be an experiment, a game, or a test

Curator: WANG I-WEN

In his 2023 series entitled “Borders．Crests”, Yang Shang-feng brought his reflections on these topics - were gained over many years in working in fashion design, iron sculpture, synthetic wood, paper and mixed media. His experiences allowed him to create objects which could be strong but light, stable but also gracefully elegant: abstractions of his thoughts and inner world. 

While from a distance, his work looks as if hard metal grasps tightly on wall in a flying motion; or on close examination, his sculpture looks like broken iron pieces, crowded together, resembling the crashing of water on rocks, generating broken waves, their peaks pushing and overlapping, one after another

靜觀/凝視/天地所共有的形體

鄭宏章

　　繪畫與凝視是以一種雙向的交互作用，一種間歇改變彼此的串連運動。一次次將光線照映入眼睛的影像透過畫筆描繪在畫幅上，這樣的積累讓我們對世界的認知隨著經驗而加深厚度、視線也能更寬廣地涵蓋更多的空間維度。

　　當然繪畫不只限於事物顯露的表象。以繪畫工具在畫面上留下的痕跡、各種細碎的線索，能夠傳遞心靈震動的能量。這些量能得以物質的形式留存，作為介質傳遞藝術家的精神世界。

　　靜觀世界，傾聽空氣中的耳語，並在韻律與節奏中找到與世界共存的方式。以凝視對應宇宙的變化；以座標丈量方向，並以沈澱的心靈書寫那些無法名狀的波動。

郭書瑜

　　創作之所以有趣，正是因為它能夠反映與傳遞個人對事件的態度，一直以來筆者在創作中誠實面對自我的想望，將個人無法用語言文字理清的、不願告人的，以一團曖昧隱晦的人物打包呈現。畫面中如同麵團的人物自2021年起，融入個人的生活經驗、觀察與想像，甚至與觀者交換故事，緩慢的發酵，將關注的課題從自身與框架間的關係，轉移到個人價值思考上。

　　繼前陣子的「理想生活」系列後，本次以「有用的人」為主軸，描繪的是在過度努力的社會風氣下，有許多客觀標準，能夠方便的量化一個人的價值，人們也在無形中參照這些標準來衡量自己，無意義的行為幾乎可以被視為一種浪費，如果說天生我材必有用，人們似乎更應該要把握自己的那一道光，好好地在時間內發揮最大價值，越有效率越好。然而從「有用的人」的角度，主觀的看待生活中無所事事的時刻，一方面在內心譴責無效生活的浪費，一方面難掩對於總有些人能夠自在地浪費，其實感到相當羨慕。

　　人們在努力追求高效率時想著好爭取片刻的空暇時光，卻在空暇時想著：據說偶爾放空有時候更能提升效率。就連想要無所事事的能力都已經退化，即便說服自己停下腳步，空出一段時間什麼也不做，心跳與呼吸不會停止，頭髮跟指甲也不斷以不可見的進度生長，想像努力文化已深植生物細胞之中，如同搭上一班無法停止的列車，眼角可以瞥見巷弄小路間的浪漫，卻只能直往目的地前進。

Art and Variation – Exhibition of Chu-Sheng Yeh’s Work

Hsien-Yiu Tsai

Chu-sheng Yeh, a graduate of the Madrid Royal Art Academy of Spain, is an avant-garde artist whose ideas have been an essential driving force in the development of modern art in Taiwan. Over the past four decades since 1980, Yeh’s thoughts in the classroom have inspired countless students in the creation of modern and contemporary art. As to the practice of art, Yeh’s pioneering attitude remains unchanged:

“Art is my language and form, which I use to express my central thoughts and to communicate.’’ ─ Chu-Sheng Yeh

Chu-sheng Yeh uses different forms of art to express the complicated feelings of individuals. His early artworks explore the relationship between human beings and the natural, living environment. These works are of two main types: painting with mixed media, and installations. Both types achieve expressive effect though the materials used.

In the past ten years, after undergoing much transformation externally and internally, and after undertaking much reflection on the twists and turns of life, he looked inwardly to search for the real meaning of art. The understanding he gained, returning to the essence of life itself, has been reflected in a series of exhibitions: in 2015, “Submerged, Bursting Forth”; in 2017, “Art and Meaning – Chu-Sheng Yeh’s Works of Art” and “Joy, Life and Art – Chu-Sheng Yeh’s Works of Art”; in 2019 “A Journey through Art – Exhibition of Chu-Sheng Yeh’s Oil Paintings” and “Trial and Rebirth – Exhibition of Chu-Sheng Yeh’s Oil Paintings”; and in 2021 “From 2012 to 2021”.

And now in 2023, we are hosting his latest exhibition “Art and Variation – Chu-Sheng Yeh’s Work.” As with previous exhibitions, this is a dialogue between the artist and art in a journey towards the rediscovery of authenticity. Chu-sheng Yeh once said: “My work has been evolving all the time, and there has been no limitation in its frame of reference. I use ideas and concepts to set up styles, rather than the other round. Metaphysical style is something we should all pursue.”

There are 22 pieces in this exhibition. They include 12 works from the “Metamorphosis” series which started from 2021 and ended in 2022. From these works we can see the challenge that the artist puts on himself. “Metamorphosis” can also be regarded as “reverse-change” because every new work challenged the form of previous work. Although at each stage we see some shape of “transformation”, it is rather more about “putting down”: withdrawing from existing forms and creative techniques, and starting over again with new ones.

As Alberto Giacometti said: “Truth seems hiding behind a layer of thin veil. After the layer is removed, one after another then re-appears. However, I am getting closer by one step every day.” When Chu-Sheng Yeh gets rid of layers of veils, what is left on the picture is the first cycle of original and initial life of the chaotic universe. Lao Tzu said: “Dao is something without shape, which seems both to exist and not exist.” This means there appear to be some shapes and objects, within a confusing universe. Lao Tzu also said: “The dao reveals operates through the opposite direction; weakness is where dao exercises and works to support.” When putting away all restrictions on form, Yeh’s principle of creation mirrors his philosophy of life: reflecting emotions, truthfully and momentarily, while returning to the origin of innocence.

Glance back – Light, Shadow and Slowness

The tranquil prospect of Chang Wen-Ching

Curator: Tsai Hsien-Yiu

Opening

Gaze, though short, is peaceful. Long perspective allows me to keep distance from what I saw, just like the scenery on the skyline during my travels. A reflected view goes into my eyes unintentionally, but calms and soothes my unsettled mood: from up and down, from fluctuation to peace. Finally, I see light and colour through cloud, across the skyline. I am also able to observe my daily practices and experiences.

Life should be able to take a break at a particular moment and space, if the moment and space are worthy. In so doing, we are able to reflect in ease and peace. Emptiness should be persevered in daily life, because it allows feelings to add colours. Such desires should be rewarded in the flow of life, because they are humble things.

Therefore, I reorganise myself and prepare to depart. I look back to the past and try to re-capture the lost time with my own interpretations and stories … I want to share them. I do so through paintings: some are as surreal as a collage, some as abundantly elegant as poetry. Colours and melodies are added into life. Tales and stories are passed on. 

Timeless deep travel, monophonic tunes

The window itself becomes the view, access to the world; and yet it also transforms into a theatre within our imagination. In paused time, it seems like works of art are out for us to contemplate. Only aloneness is left as heart turns simple. And only monophonic tunes remain in the throbbing heart. The earth becomes the platform, while the blue sky is the curtain: sun, moon and stars are lights. When the curtain is opened, pictures come one after another, reflected in deep thought and projected on the stage.

There is a cloud in every picture in the “Meditation” and “Windows” series. Sometimes the cloud is outside the windows, sometimes inside. The cloud carries the dream and flies along the skyline, waiting for the dream to come true. The scenery outside the windows embraces endless imagination, self-appreciation, and the resonance of internal monophony.

Slowness, Light, and Shadow

Where light and shadow meet, it is at the point of ‘black’, where the curtain of the universe opens, in complete silence and emptiness. At this moment there is no separation between shape and shadow; only a wait for light to break through sky and separate it from earth. The works of the “Silence” series are made to express the first light of day. When the dark curtain of the sky is lifted, time is not detected as it moves so slowly; and yet every subtle change indicates a shift in time and space, from coldness to gentle warmness. The falling, hair-like light wakes up the world.

There is a deep love of ‘slowness’ in daily life, a pace which is completely the opposite of hurry. In embracing slowness, the soul gains an opportunity to calm and settle; the movement and flow of life can be oriented. It turns out that the flow of light and shadow is not only part of daily practice, but also determines the pace of life. In the universal tempo of slowness, light and shadow meet and merge together, reflecting each other and eventually becoming one.