This film was created at the end of 2025, a year that quietly but unmistakably marked the beginning of my life as an artist. Since it was the Year of the Snake — my zodiac year — I had promised myself early on that I would claim it as my own. What I didn’t expect was how deeply that intention would shape the year: the exhibitions, the people I met, the conversations sparked by my work, and the unexpected encouragement from places far beyond where I started. By the time I reached the end of the year, commissions for the next had already begun filling my calendar, and I realized that something had truly begun.

As the new year approached, I wanted to create a piece that captured that feeling — not through documentation, but through mythology. This film draws inspiration from the story of the Three Wise Men and the Nativity, reimagined entirely within my own visual world. Instead of human figures, animals become the travelers. Instead of a distant desert or a stable, the setting is the “in-between forest,” a recurring place in my work where identities overlap, boundaries soften, and different worlds coexist.

In this forest, a guiding light appears, and animals move toward it with quiet purpose. Their journey leads them to the birth of the red horse — a symbol of transition, momentum, and the approaching Year of the Horse. The scene is not dramatic or grand; it is gentle, still, and contemplative. The forest witnesses a small, radiant beginning, much like the early stages of a new creative life. In many ways, the red horse is not just a character but a metaphor for 2026 itself: a year arriving with promise, direction, and energy.

This film reflects where I am now — between what has started and what is still forming, between reflection and anticipation. As I move into 2026, I carry the sense that the world is opening, that the stage is expanding, and that this myth I’ve built for the new year is also, quietly, a myth about myself.