Spring Water — 湧水

Water welling up from between rocks. What is depicted is not the rock itself, but the image of soft water seeping out of something hard—solid bedrock that cannot quite contain it.

This is the driest and brightest surface in the series. Cracked lime, faint stains of moss-green and gold, thin veins of turquoise running through the fissures. Light rests evenly across the plane; nothing here moves quickly.

Rock and water are opposites in every register: hard and soft, fixed and flowing, ancient and momentary. Yet a spring is the place where the two meet—where the unyielding surface yields, and what was sealed inside emerges of its own quiet pressure. The picture holds that meeting point. Water is present here almost as memory, as what stone cannot hold back: the gentleness that comes out of hardness, the beginning of flow at the exact place where nothing seems able to flow.