| I was born in the 1970s in a small village in Shaanxi, where I spent a sometimes-gloomy, sometimes-happy childhood. As I recall, during my childhood, there was never enough food and we could hardly keep ourselves warm. There was also no electricity. The only fun to be had was listening to my grandfather’s stories. My grandfather was a learned and somewhat conservative man. Under his influence, during my childhood I read Three Kingdoms, Journey to the West, Outlaws of the Marsh, and other classic works. I worshipped the heroes in these stories, and from then on I continuously painted, from my imagination, Guan Yu, the Monkey King, Lu Zhi-Shen, and other heroes. This played an important part in my personal enlightenment. |  |
Liu Ruo-Wang
I was born in the 1970s in a small village in Shaanxi, where I spent a sometimes-gloomy, sometimes-happy childhood. As I recall, during my childhood, there was never enough food and we could hardly keep ourselves warm. There was also no electricity. The only fun to be had was listening to my grandfather’s stories. My grandfather was a learned and somewhat conservative man. Under his influence, during my childhood I read Three Kingdoms, Journey to the West, Outlaws of the Marsh, and other classic works. I worshipped the heroes in these stories, and from then on I continuously painted, from my imagination, Guan Yu, the Monkey King, Lu Zhi-Shen, and other heroes. This played an important part in my personal enlightenment.
As I grew up, I searched for knowledge so I could make a living. From classes at school I could only gain a superficial knowledge of Western art. Repeatedly I tried and failed with Western techniques. I couldn’t escape the influence of my childhood but at the same time, I felt that my earlier efforts were just childish doodles. They were not art, so they should be discarded. Throughout the years I struggled with contradictions. I sought enlightenment through meditation. I wandered, trying to learn the essence of art. I was miserable. Although most days I was starving and had no place to stay, I restrained myself from materialistic pursuits and paid close attention to people’s spirit. “Sleep on brushwood and taste gall.” “Riding alone for thousands of miles.”—Chinese people encourage this spirit. They are solemn and stirring, honest and unsophisticated, with a vitally energetic nature. Throughout the ages, the Chinese people have always remained the same.
In recent years, living in Beijing I have begun to think about world affairs. I have looked through a crack in the door and spied some of the changes in the world. In my understanding of the world affairs, whether these affairs are good or bad, important, magnificent, or tragic, they become the history of ordinary Chinese people. “Successes and failures vanish when we turn our heads.” Even magnificent events must tomorrow become the past—amidst so many people, am I still certain which path to follow?
I have already reached “the year when I took my stand” (the age of 30 in Chinese saying). It seems as if I have again returned to my childhood. I can go back to being myself and carry out my childhood dreams of becoming a general. I will realize them through sculpture and painting, and use art to relieve the pains and confusions of today.
