The Manzhu Shahua drifting with the tide under the setting sun, carrying whose thoughts and whose smiles?
What has been passed by, what has left, has become a memory.
One said, forget it.
One said, pick it up.
Stretch your hands towards the sky with no other shore, imagining hiding behind the clouds and every grain of sand in your memory.
In the void, grab and grab again.
Conception: