Your gaze is caught by the darkest area in the painting—it starts with a point, swirling outward in an counterclockwise direction—once around, it stops turning and splits into three routes—now, choose a line—it is not demanding to find out that either the upward or the downward leads you to nowhere; passing through several corners, though, they end up as cul-de-sacs briefly—hence, the route in the middle seems like a better choice—yet, before long it drifts away alongside the outline borders of this labyrinth.
Your gaze is running over the light-color space, quicker than the way it scans the dark area—then, it stops—you discover the space created by the delineation of the watery dark masses—hence, some passageways in between are quite spacious, whereas some are extremely narrow, varying according to the path the thick ink flows—anyway, there is no way out of the outer frame.
It is effortless to figure out this labyrinth when you stand outside of it, looking from an overall perspective. What if you are involved in it, like all the creatures you see in the painting? It probably would be like in a predicament.
Everything in the painting is a symbolic representation; they indicate/signify something else beyond the tangible pattern. In other words, they are symbols, building a connection between visuals and concepts based on resemblance, and allowing you to relate to something else by inference.
The symbol is a bridge of communication by means of pushing the brain continuously to create meanings of the sensory input through denotation and connotation.
The artist’s intentions are hidden in the forms of these visual images, the visible signs of something invisible, waiting for the audience to find out the interpretation from visual cues.
Charismatic-image QI Huiyuan 03/15/2017