Kong Qian-yangAbout

If textile is a facade, and skin, concealing the flesh.

2022,
35 x 41cm,
Viscose, silk, cotton and remant yarns









Amidst the ever-changing hue, the sky, a canvas, not bound to one shade, nor hue, its presentation, fluid.

In the end of the day, darkness will fill everything.

I shall forgive it will seep away eventually.

Perhaps sky isn’t blue at all.

I just picture it with prejudice.

Only loneliness left in eternity.