Buddha is said to have smiled when observing a pippal leaf, he realized that the whole universe was manifesting in it. As if there was a state of consciousness in which the subdivisions of the intellect no longer exist in reality. Something that can resemble a dreamlike dimension in which the boundaries of thoughts, objects, landscapes mix. It is also said that the real desires are those that make you smile, they are those that are not dictated by the sense of duty, by apparent rationality that is the mirror of a lack of self-confidence. True desire is a moment of rupture, of discontinuity. An attempt to decipher one's emotions. Desire is more a question than an answer since it can open up new territories of the imagination. Often these spaces have been considered prohibited, by those who control the range of choices, by those who establish the boundaries, by those who erect the walls, by those who assign the labels.

Quang Lam seems to move from these premises when staging his personal garden of desires. Everything comes from a falling vase, from a crack in perfection that allows you to glimpse the objects in a different light. We see branches of trees merging with the arms of a body. It is a colorful bloom of petals and buds that mix with the symbols of secular cultures, attacking them with a lively fantasy. The goddess of beauty, shapely and harmonious, finds herself in the impassive presence of a Buddha who observes the world with detachment. A silent dialogue where, however, it is color, the life that kicks in diversity, perhaps to triumph. 

Yet everything is impermanent, in an eternal cycle of transformation and change. Life itself, plants, symbols and the art itself that changes in the eyes and consciences of those who observe it.