Every year, when I leave for a long way to the south to find camellias, my heart is pounding. When I work in front of watercolor paper, my heart is pounding again just like back then. When I think of the shining camellia that melts the cold snow and winter, my heart flutters and warms. Every time I meet a camellia, my heart is thrilled as if I am secretly meeting an unforgettable memory.