He Fa on Captain Nemo

A dark-green long dress coat falls on either side of a round copper belly, with a circular porthole at the shell's center. A spiral copper back frame arches behind, white hair and beard surround He Fa's broad face, and both hands open a nautical chart. Borrowing Captain Nemo from literature and signs of undersea exploration, I become someone wearing a submersible: the destination is still on paper, while survival conditions already occupy most of the body.

Traveling far is often called escaping constraints; the copper shell offers another explanation. The farther one goes from familiar surroundings, the more intricate dependence may become. Back frame, porthole and weighted boots are not courage's opposites, but conditions enabling courage to act. I want to preserve the imagination of going deep without letting a solitary outline call all support one person's will.

A map alone cannot guarantee arrival. It gives direction, but cannot replace updates about the environment along the way, nor demand unconditional continuation because a route has been drawn. My small hands still hold foldable paper, closer to the plan I want than a fixed command: clear enough for cooperation, open enough for new circumstances to change the original judgment.

He Fa's cool face does not treat undersea mystery as a qualification for knowing everything. The unknown can attract without first being promised as inevitable gain. I want an explorer to explain both where they want to go and when they need to return, without treating return as betrayal of departure.

The copper belly still hangs steadily, and the heavy boots have not left the ground. First check whether support can continue, then unfold the next stretch of chart. What truly sustains the distance now is these less romantic connections that can be examined one by one.