A poetic light on the heroic act

I believe that only a living person who had been in that environment can try to understand it. Only when you pick up the camera and stand in the corner, you can see the people in the corner. Just like this time at the fire scene in Muli, every grain of sand and dust I ate in the small tent turned into one pixel after another, and finally converged to a meaningful photo. After a few years, these photos will become the clue to time, a key that can open the storage room of our memory, and enable us to rekindle the light of the past.

From photographing a forest to a tree, I integrated people into the scene, in which the nature works its magic, and where we have the sense of belonging. Now, all my deceased comrades-in-arms are transformed into the cloud in the sky, and they are my brothers. For me, they have merged with the forests, and they have turned into an integral part of the Liangshan Mountains.

When I am alone, I use my camera to record the footprints on which we once fought together, photograph the mountains and forests that evoke my lost memories, and those faces that are not so easy to forget.