Plants are always stronger and more resilient than I can imagine. This is what I felt when I had the opportunity to collect wisteria vines in Nakanojo. The vines had surpassed the height of the trees they clung to, spreading their own leaves. When the original tree withered, they reached for a neighboring tree and continued to grow. I witnessed a dense cluster of wisteria vines stretching like a great serpent between the trees, relentlessly spreading as they sought the sun—a sight that even evoked a sense of fear. Yet in their supple and gentle pursuit of light, I sensed an undeniable attachment to life itself. For some reason, that unwavering obsession with existence made me feel a sense of “motherhood,” and that is why I chose this work.