Light and shadow, full of layers and texture.
During the Summer day, the lights in the lush garden are very peculiar.
The intense sunlight floods the garden and reflects off the blades of grass and the bamboo fence.
The branches and leaves turn a deep dark from the light behind them and show no color, forming graceful, silhouette-like outlines.
A gentle breeze starts to blow, and the shadows (ghosts) begin to move back and forth, like the chant of temple monks, the many layers all moving together.
During the Summer of 2009, when the sun was shining hotly, I was sitting in the shade of the old garden drawing the big banana leaves and old loquat stems,
recording the shadows before my eyes with an indigo so dark it resembled ink.
For an instant, I couldn't tell what was solid and what was mere shadow, what was fake and what was real.
