The autumn season of one’s life brings a heightened intensity to the preciousness of each and every moment. Every breath, every feeling, is punctuated and swollen with the pregnancy of memory. Individual recollections rise and fall, riding the tidal patterns of time’s ephemeral passing. But memory as form remains omnipresent, attuning the senses to what is before one, to the mysteries and holy contradictions which characterize this life.

The search for the meaning of life has been man’s eternal quest since the beginning of time. Finnish artist Maritta Nurmi has long been pondering this quintessential question of how to live life mindfully.

This exhibition had its wellspring from the building of his countryside studio. As Thanh began to work with the land the inspiration to use this earth mixed with stone naturally occurred.

Art must have content, yet the content is not always pictorial. The ideal of color, of visual form, of composition, must be expressed in art through non-pictorial means. Only then does the artist begin to observe the particular, the psychological object, and discover its meaning, its implications, its unformed shape. All of these things must be expressed psychologically, as a kind of personal memory.

Tham Poong is now drifting into the fanciful floating world of love and human connection. Well known for her personal narratives on the life of the ethnic minorities, the world of her origin, the artist is now exploring life beyond.

Four Seasons and tam cuc (a kind of playing card), pieces of gold lacquered sculpture and mat. Chinh Le has used traditional motifs and techniques in a new way. The language is simple, she does not abuse the alluring beauty of gold and silver or a hackneyed vision.

Playing with life, playing with paper, fun loving artist Nguyen Nghia Cuong portrays life at its fullest, richest, poorest, happiest, saddest. The ful range of human expression spills forth with abandon from brush to paper. Some works merely depict the simple joys of life… others evoke a wrenching, painful sadness that no sunshine can exorcise.

Sometimes, while wandering in a garden we incidentally pluck some leaves. On other occasions, we sit staring abstractly into the rice-fields, mounts and rivers or looking fixedly on stars during sleepless nights. We see and do not know what we see, we go and do not know where to go.

Compelled to express this struggle of reconciliation with his past, Cam spent many years processing these emotions, utilizing raw materials flung onto the canvas with an abandon and urgency no border could contain. Gradually he began to reach the eye of the storm.