Between Heaven and Earth: My Lightning, My Awakening, My Tao
I am Yan Feng. Born by the sea in Dalian, the deep vastness and force of the ocean became part of my bloodline early on, and formed the foundational tone of my art. When I completed the hundred-meter-long scroll Zheng He's Voyages, poured my soul into it, I believed I had etched a unique mark into the annals of Chinese art history. Later I realized this work merely represented an extreme mastery of "technique."
However, once my skills matured, a more fundamental question haunted me day and night: "I have the technique, but where is the true creation? Can I, in this fleeting life, create works the likes of which history has never seen?" Looking around me and within, I saw too many living with a resigned equanimity. Questions like "Who am I? What do I truly want?" clung to me like ghosts. I admired Picasso's power to capture the essence with mere strokes—just as Van Gogh said, "The mission of art is not to imitate nature, but to express its inner spirit."
During the bitter winter of 2020, encouraged by my closest family, I decided to stop chasing outward and truly "look inward." My friends, this was no easy feat! Exploring oneself brings pain deep into the marrow. "How much courage does it take to look inward?" I asked myself. Looking back on most of my life, I realized I had never truly sat down for a heart-to-heart with my own soul! When will the mind find peace? How does one awaken? How to return to simplicity? Does withdrawing from the world mean letting go? Loneliness is revelry, revelry is loneliness... "Is understanding the meaning of life truly so difficult?" The agony of this process sometimes made me suspect it was "self-inflicted torment in pursuit of truth." Zhang Daqian once lamented, "Learning from ancient masters, learning from nature—none surpass learning from one's own heart." Only now do I grasp its weight.
Yet I firmly believe: only work created from the heart possesses a soul. The heart is the cause, the Way, the inexhaustible source deep within; the painting is merely the "fruit," the manifestation of "technique." The value of art lies in its being an authentic expression of the self. I often tell myself: "Don't strive to be first; strive to be unique." I want to be a creator! This thought is crystal clear: I must paint what my heart truly yearns to express—works of uniqueness! I know this, for a painter, might be a lifetime’s unreachable pursuit.
Half a year of deep self-exploration became a trek of the soul. I gradually understood: the challenge was no longer polishing "technique," but elevating consciousness, breaking free from the cage of ingrained thinking, and creating from a higher dimension. It was about presenting the "heart." This realization felt like opening a door to another parallel universe.
Thus, a concept for a series named Light of True Love Awakening sprouted in my mind (later renamed Between Heaven and Earth). I decided to use the sea—familiar, honored in my past work—as the backdrop and stage for my spirit. But a challenge arose: how to translate the thoughts surging within me, those unspeakable insights, into visible imagery?
Through sustained meditation, a conviction grew: "Humans are the highest manifestation of thought." So, what was the "uniqueness" belonging to me, Yan Feng, never fully expressed in history? Holding this question, I knew it couldn't be forced; I could only await inspiration.
After months of deep inner dialogue… finally, one day, a "lightning bolt" ripped through the night sky of my mind! Lightning—a theme rare in traditional Chinese painting, even viewed as ill-omened by some—struck me instantly! In that moment of ecstasy, I perceived clearly: Lightning is no mere natural phenomenon. It is light tearing through darkness! Power bursting forth from chaos! An awakener of dormant souls! The most direct, most awe-inspiring connection between Heaven and Earth! Paul Klee said, "Art does not reproduce the visible; it makes visible." This "lightning" was the invisible light I wanted to make visible!
The next challenge was transforming this spiritual "lightning" into visual language.
My roots are in Chinese tradition. I studied the spirit of brush and ink from past masters, understanding well the essence of traditional culture—this is my foundation. Simultaneously, I learned and absorbed the essence of Western painting: its rigorous precision of structure and bold intensity of color. An era of rapid progress, where every artist seeks breakthrough and self-expression.
For composition, I boldly broke from the traditional golden ratio. I chose a centered, stable pyramid structure. Why? Because the center of the universe is within my heart! I am the master of my life experience! Henri Matisse proclaimed, "The scissors must sing!" My composition is a declaration of life.
For color, only heavy colors could accurately bear the turbulence within me. Saturated, abundant, they pack a visual punch, allowing the fullest release of the life energy I feel.
When creating, my hand is merely a tool. I pursue the flow state of "mind guiding hand." Each painting captures that moment’s unique connection and "download" between my spirit and the cosmos.
Thus, on my canvas: the deep ocean, vast starfields, small yet resilient humans, lightning splitting the sky, roaring winds, torrential downpours, surging waves, a floating Earth… All elements of nature converge and meld. This is not chaos, but the manifestation of my inner "Way," a cosmic panorama of "Oneness." The "Lightning" is that awakening light in darkness, life’s primal, most powerful cry!
By June 2022, the Between Heaven and Earth series of over 30 works was complete. Included were two monumental pieces (2.5m H x 1.6m W), three pieces (1.4m H x 1.4m W), and 25 pieces (1.35m H x 0.68m W). Together, they formed a pioneering "lightning" themed series in Chinese art history, expressing my purest cry of existence and creation through a unique philosophy integrating cosmos, nature, and humanity.
At the invitation of the Suzhou Municipal Government, the series was exhibited at the Ming Gallery in Suzhou on August 6, 2022, with the opening set for 15:30. At precisely 15:00, the clear summer sky transformed abruptly! Ink-black clouds gathered, fierce winds howled, rain poured! Then, lightning flashed, thunder crashed, tearing through the heavens! Everyone was stunned—this spectacle outside the gallery mirrored, incredibly, the imagery inside my paintings! This phenomenon lasted exactly 20 minutes. Ten minutes before the opening, the storm ceased as suddenly as it came, the sky instantly clearing. Everyone present was awestruck, whispering: this was nature consecrating Between Heaven and Earth! An indescribable sacred resonance!
During the exhibition, I saw people of all ages and backgrounds pause long before my works, each finding their own interpretation. This gave me immense satisfaction. Art knows no boundaries; the exploration and expression of life, the cosmos, and meaning is our common language. May Between Heaven and Earth convey not only my personal transcendence, but also a shared perception across cultures and lands: we are connected to all things, resonating with the universe. Amid this vastness, may we all find inner light and strength, for truly, we are one.
