As an old man now, I look back on my life and realise that my fascination with dendroids started when I was just a child. I remember hearing stories about these humanoid fruits that grew inside the massive Colossus Dendron trees, and I was captivated by the idea of living my life attached to a tree without the possibility of separating from it.
As I grew older, my fascination only intensified, and I spent countless hours imagining what it would be like to be a dendroid. I would sit outside in the shade of a tree and look up at the leaves, wondering what the world looked like from up there. I would try to picture the view from the top of a tree, surrounded by other dendroids, all living their lives attached to the same tree.
As an artist, I spent half of my life creating images and artworks representing dendroids. I wanted to understand how they would look and what they would feel living their lives attached to a tree. I painted them in every season, in different colors and forms, and I tried to capture their essence in every piece.
But as I grew older, I began to realize the melancholic truth of the dendroids. They were beautiful and fascinating creatures, but their existence was a tragic one. They were bound to their tree, unable to move or experience the world beyond it. They were born, lived, and died within the same tree, without ever knowing the outside world.
And so, as I look back on my life as an artist, I realise that my fascination with dendroids was not just a quest for understanding their lives, but also a melancholic reflection on the limitations of life itself. We are all bound to our own trees, unable to break free from the circumstances that shape our existence. But in my art, I found a way to transcend these limitations and explore the boundless possibilities of the imagination.
