"The One Who Remained Still for a Hundred Years" — the title alone is a frozen threshold. A boy or girl who ought to grow, age and change with time has instead stayed, unmoving, for a hundred years.

If early on Lo painted youth trapped within the wrappings of generation and society, this recent series lifts youth out of time altogether and presses a more metaphysical question: when a life stops "becoming" and stays in an eternal youth, has it reached a kind of immortality, or lost the most precious thing about being human — the capacity to age, to change, to accumulate experience in time?

This too is a turn of his "reality is not truth" inquiry. Our age promises eternity in many forms: the frozen face, preservation, digital immortality; but Lo lets that figure, unmoving for a century, remind us that what makes an existence real may be precisely its finitude, its duration in time. The one who has stood on the threshold for a hundred years is neither dead nor truly alive any longer — suspended between youth and eternity, a quiet parable of existence.