Buu Chi is a haunted man. He is, he says, obsessed by "the human limitation and the infinity of space and time." You find offen in his paintings a gaunt figure, huge feet and hands, some- times standing between the sun and the moon, long arms stretched out as if imploring the barren landscape, or hanging from the hands of clock, slowly being strangled by time. For Buu Chi, the destiny of all men is "unhappiness and uncertainty": "Man always desires something to change his life. He is never satisfied with what he has". Buu Chi paints the predicament of man writ large. For him the human situation cuts across man-made borders: we are all brothers in despair. But paradoxically, within his universalism lies a belief that saves Buu Chi from simply retreating into silence and nihilism: "Art is a language that can be understood by everyone. Everyone can share what l want to tell."
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