I was the only visitor." The mysterious adventure is accompanied by discovery full of surprises. "Compared with the nature, we human being is insignificant. Flowers, grass and trees live their glamorous lives every day. Even the shadows in a little corner under the tree are full of life and never lonely. Even leaves that have withered have all kinds of colors." Jang Tarng Kuh believes that all things alive are there to add some color for the time being. He wants to capture the sensibility of each particular moment. Delicacy is just another kind of reality; what lies beneath is his observation from the large to the small scale, the vitality of life, the profound memory and the flowing of time….

　　The more ordinary the greater. Just like what Taylor said, "The most progressive always seems the most traditional and primitive." Jang Tarng Kuh prefers to ponder on unordinary things in his ordinary life. "A dandelion grows out of the crack of a stone, looking young, beautiful, and alive." Surprises in Jang's life inspire his work. He could stare at an old tree with luxuriant branches and leaves in front of his door. New sprouts and dying leaves in different colors are both hung on the tree. It can be as wide-open as a mountain, as unstable as an ocean. There were winds, insects, birds, dews and endless memories of life. Or he could reminisce while looking through the screen window. He could watch the rain that are thousand-years-old drop in today's yard, and depict his new emotions with scars from the past. We encounter many impressive scenes every day, and we want stay with the very moment that touches us the most and capture it. Jang Tarng Kuh has his insistence, with no word said, after the storms, after fog in the unawake land, after flowers and grass covered with dew water on the hilltop, after the rainy sky, after the ordinary, and after bleakness and emptiness.

　　Existence is growth within the circle of life; neither does it vanish just because nobody pays attention to it nor does it stay for being cherished. It is like bubbles that willfully turn into fair colored glass; it forms and goes away, again and again. Who can ever tell the reality and the illusion in it? Who can ever certify its ambiguous existence? One thing we can be certain, is the joy within the twinkling of an eye and the affection of being that we see in Jang's paintings, presented with its most primitive form and the subtlest outlook, in a modern language.