Memories are about parting and loss, but most of them are cottonwood embers.
This is a dialogue with the past, and it is also a silent mark left to the future. I am looking for the meaning of continuation in the shortcomings of life.
I'm afraid of forgetting, so I choose to turn my memories into words for better preservation.
So it is not so much that it is still watched by every passer-by, but it is better to say that it is a memory anchor for me in the future to remind myself.
Intention: To live towards death