Hello! I am Corvin, and my friends call me "the curator in the sea breeze." Growing up by the sea in Havana, my grandpa's old studio and the white sails on the waves are my earliest memories—he taught me to capture sunlight with a paintbrush, while the sea taught me to "read" the shapes of the wind with a windsurfing board. Now, when I tinker with those old objects in the museum, I always feel that they hide breathing stories, just like the ocean waves. By the way, have you ever seen a windsurfing board at five in the morning? The feeling of the splashes on your face is exactly the same as the heartbeat when discovering a dusty artwork. Have you encountered any little things recently that made you feel, "Wow, that's so pure"?