藝術家劉于新

This year’s moon is just such an existence:
not the cool silver of autumn skies,
but a molten red-gold,
as if a heart were kindled in the frozen vastness of the universe.

Its radiance is not gentle —
it almost melts the darkness itself,
revealing, between light and flame,
the ultimate edge of life.
Such a moon is “a burning that has reached the depth of stillness,”
like the opening line of Snow Country:
“After passing through the long tunnel, you arrive at the land of snow.”
And here — after traversing the long, crimson dusk —
one arrives at the moon of the heart.

The poem inscribed upon the painting is a whisper of the soul:

“To take another’s joy as my own heart,
To think and to care with sincerity,
In each fleeting encounter,
In the homeland of a hundred poems,
A flower blooms —
wholly from my heart.”

Such words are a soliloquy — reserved, quiet,
yet suffused with human warmth.
“To take another’s joy as my own heart” is an act of compassion,
and a reverence for existence itself.
Thus, the moon of Mid-Autumn is not merely a seasonal sign,
but the most silent bridge between two hearts.

True beauty is never in outward splendor,
but in a moment of eternity —
a gaze before vanishing.
The poem and the moon share this breath:
like an unsent letter —
knowing there may be no reply,
yet written in the purest tone.

The Red Moon and Emptiness — The Ultimate “Kokorozukushi”

The whole painting is wrapped in deep crimson —
the color of blood, and of love.
In Buddhist thought, red symbolizes Great Compassion:
to burn oneself, to illuminate others.
Love in this light always carries a trace of extinction;
the flame, seeking life within the moment of its dying.

“Kokorozukushi” — wholehearted devotion —
is not worldly romance,
but a compassion that transcends the self.
Within that red moon,
all burning hearts —
for love, for vow, for the blossoming of a single flower —
willingly surrender to the light.

“This moon does not belong to the heavens, but to the heart.”
Its glow is not from without, but from within.
It is the artist’s prayer in solitude,
the quietest meditation of the Mid-Autumn night.

Between Flame and Silence

“The moon is not in the sky, but in the heart.
When it rises, all things fall silent,
and only the heart burns.”

Such is this Mid-Autumn moon —
suspended in voiceless space,
a fire of compassion,
a moon born of the heart.

This light
does not shine upon the world —
it shines upon the soul.