Introduction

I began developing a series of creations around the concept of the “Blueprint” in the year 2000. The core concept revolves around dispersion and combination, the individual and the collective, the city and nature. The creative process departs from minuscule individual elements, undergoes deconstruction and restructuring, and ultimately culminates in a complete, unified work composed of countless individual parts. “Doing only one work in a lifetime” means combining everything to become one. This is a process of idealizing the world, as well as building a utopia for myself—an imagery of the self and the universe.

“Thought paints two pictures with astonishing speed on the left and right walls. The one painted here is the universe... beneath this picture is written: This is the whole. The picture painted on the other wall is the soul... beneath it is written: This is everything.¹”

Thought turns the world into a picture, a describable and graspable image, offering the sheer pleasure of holding the world firmly in one’s hands.

The first image to appear in the blueprint is the “Tower of Babel,” which represents a concentrated energy. The concentration of belief becomes religion; the concentration of resources becomes government; the concentration of structure becomes a high tower. This is the establishment of a utopia under rationalism—building a tall tower to approach the ultimate noumenon. Categorization, positioning, storage, and utilization form the primary texture of the urban fabric, and they likewise constitute the structure of the Tower of Babel.

Another image in the blueprint appears as the background to the Tower of Babel: the “Grassland,” a vast natural space capable of enveloping the tower. This represents another imagery of oneness; nature grants tolerance to all things and serves as the source of everything. While the “Tower of Babel” provides an entrance into the modern world, the “Grassland” opens the path of return to the world’s origin. Here, two worlds seem to emerge. “To man the world is twofold, in accordance with his twofold attitude.²” In contrast to the Tower of Babel, at the far end of the grassland stands the “High Mountain.” If the Tower of Babel is a structure of accumulation, then upon the grassland, they can be deconstructed and unfolded one by one. Ascending a mountain is a process of stripping away and simplifying. It can be described as a journey home—walking from the city to the grassland, climbing the high mountain, and returning to the primal self.

“As man takes up a twofold attitude, the world also presents itself to him as twofold. Man speaks the primary words in accordance with his twofold attitude.³” Martin Buber posits that there are two primary words: “I-Thou” and “I-It.” “I-Thou” represents the world of relation, in which the “I” and the “Thou” are fully immersed—physically, emotionally, and spiritually. “I” represents the subjective consciousness, while “Thou” represents the Other, extending into the spiritual and mysterious realm of the universe; these two consciousnesses are tightly interwoven and are considered the fundamental state of all things. Conversely, “I-It” represents the separation of the subject from the world, where the world becomes an object. Here, “I” assumes the subjective role of controlling, analyzing, and utilizing, while “It” becomes a lifeless entity that can be analyzed, dismantled, positioned, stored, and used.

When this image of a twofold world is mapped onto the imagery of the blueprint, it manifests as the Tower and the Mountain. The Tower symbolizes urban structure, the arena where instrumental rationality is staged, and the place where the capitalist market thrives, with the flow of value permeating the entire structure. The Mountain symbolizes a mysterious distance. At times, its peak is shrouded in dense clouds, with sunlight hidden behind them, allowing a sudden flash of aura (the numinous) to break through. When we walk into the mountain, surrounded by countless living spirits, I become one of them. Between the Tower and the Mountain lies the space of the Grassland. When a person is inside the mountain or the city, it is difficult to see the full picture clearly. Stepping onto the grassland restores all heights to a horizontal baseline, returning all constructed concepts back to pure phenomena. In this space, the world can be re-established and re-observed. The blueprint is a picture of the world, and it is also a map of my creative traces, capturing the experience of moving back and forth between different worlds—like a pendulum swinging between the city and nature, constantly dismantling and restructuring, concealing and reappearing.

Becoming lost and returning home are the dual postures of walking between these two worlds, appearing repeatedly in a continuous cycle. The path leading back to the source is like a coastline where the ocean meets the land; waves crash against the shore, grinding solid rocks into fine sand and carrying the grains away. Yet, we continuously strive to expand the boundaries of the land through reclamation and moving mountains. This is the very coastline formed by the mutual infiltration and collision between splendid cultural knowledge and the unknown mysteries of the universe. Wondrous transformations always occur in the space “in-between”—always changing, always becoming. Moving from solid to broken, from minute fragments to new combinations, from system to deconstruction, this cycle repeats endlessly. With each coming and going, the power of the origin manifests and disappears. “In the mother’s womb, man knows the universe; upon leaving it, he forgets it.⁴” The power of the origin remains hidden within the relational world of “I and Thou.”