“A journey,” the Japanese idiom suggests, “grass pillow.” Yet what rests on grass never fully settles. It only pauses; it allows the body to forget, for a moment, its demand for stability. In this exhibition, painting is understood in a similar way. It does not function as a clear account of what is seen; instead, it lingers as a trace of perception itself. What appears on the surface carries less the certainty of an object than the density of a moment in which seeing has yet to resolve into meaning.