As a student of early Buddhism, I once regarded depicting deities or buddhas as a taboo. Relying on gods seemed contrary to the words of the Buddha himself.

That changed when I received a sudden phone call from a dear friend. She was about to undergo surgery, her final hope. Deeply faithful, she faced the reality that she might soon leave this world. Yet even in that moment, she worried not for herself, but for her young child, her mother, and even for my health.

For months she endured treatment in an isolated ward. During the pandemic, even her family could not visit. Alone in her struggle, I wanted to send her something that could serve as a source of comfort. I looked back at my paintings, which at the time drew on the ancient sutras, visualizing “wisdom for living.” Yet I realized that none of those works could accompany someone who stood so close to death, yet still faced it with compassion and strength.

It was then that I began to understand why Buddhism gave rise to images of deities and bodhisattvas. For the first time, I painted a small bodhisattva, and sent it to her together with an amulet.

From this experience, I came to feel that Buddhas and bodhisattvas are not beings who appear only when we pray. Rather, they are always beside us, in every place and every moment. Yet perhaps it is only those who have resolved themselves with courage and compassion who can truly feel their presence.

In the end, my friend passed away. With her in my thoughts, I painted this work: Lotus Thousand-Armed Kannon.

The Thousand-Armed Kannon (Avalokiteśvara) is a bodhisattva whose form symbolizes boundless compassion. There is a story of how this figure came into being.

Avalokiteśvara once vowed to save every being from suffering. Tirelessly, day and night, the bodhisattva labored for others, but finally despaired upon realizing that suffering could never be completely eradicated. In grief, the bodhisattva’s body shattered into countless pieces. Seeing this, the Buddha gathered the fragments and restored Avalokiteśvara, granting a thousand arms and a thousand eyes so that the vow could be fulfilled. Thus was born the Thousand-Armed Kannon.

In art, the figure is sometimes shown with literally a thousand arms, but more often with 42—two hands joined in prayer and 40 auxiliary arms. Each auxiliary arm is believed to rescue beings from 25 kinds of suffering, together symbolizing the power of a thousand. Traditionally, these hands hold various implements, including weapons. In my depiction, however, I have transformed every weapon into a lotus bud. While weapons are meant to guide beings along the right path, I believe that absolute “rightness” does not exist in this world, and the lotus—symbol of purity and awakening—offers a more fitting expression.

To me, bodhisattvas are not supernatural saviors but beings who, like us, live within the cycle of samsara. Their true strength lies not in special powers but in the practice of compassion and altruism. This is the path that we, too, are invited to follow.

May this world know peace.
May our hearts rest in serenity.