在紙雕上的女子，如在刀刃上的過活，她們美豔得連血也滴出來。瘋狂想像的她們，沒有真實的軀體，只剩下想像美好的幸福光影。 幻化之下，只剩下一漊青煙，混和光之中，消失。

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Women are fragile as if sculpted out of paper, leading a life that’s comparable to gliding on a knife’s edge. Their beauty exceeds imagination, but the more you dwell into these images, the more virtual they become, ending up in a wisp of thin smoke, disappearing into a blend of light.