- I realized it was a dream. It’s a dream within a dream. I reached out for a 2B pencil. I drew a picture on paper, my back to the dream. I kept turning back to look at the large images, trying to copy them to mimic the colors. The picture I drew turned out to be of my hometown.
- A building?
- Buildings from my memory. From my memory they were houses. A town that hadn’t changed. I kept drawing and looking back, worrying that that floating dream would disappear. Then the colors slowly disappeared. The dreamed turned black and white. I was sorry. I tried to remember the colors. I knew then that dream was in color. My drawing was of my hometown in Khon Kaen. It was in black and white. I drew many buildings. I was surprised at how good my drawing was. I called Mr. Chen in Shanghai. I said, “I quit filmmaking. From now on I will draw. Be a painter. And draw only buildings in Khon Kaen”. Mr. Chen was so happy. He said, “Let’s go for dinner”. He’s happy I stopped doing movies.
Do you hear that? It’s the sound of battles fought and lives lost. It once pained me to know that I am the cause of such despair. But now their cries give me strength. Beauty is my power.
