Born in Oita Prefecture

I was undeniably there, present as a human being.
Within the walls of my own desires, I became earth.
This work reflects the relationship between my existence and the world.

Born in Liaoning, China

In the name of love, we installed surveillance cameras to keep our grandmother constantly within sight, believing we were protecting her in the cool, detached realm of the digital world. Yet although she should have been the heart of our family, she came to be treated only as someone to be cared for—watched over, worried about—while rarely given the chance to voice her own thoughts or feelings.

This work raises the question: might the act of “watching over someone with care” itself become another form of surveillance?

Born in Heilongjiang, China

One night I awoke and, for a moment, forgot where I was. My body felt weightless, as if drifting through a vast space among countless particles. My soul too seemed to float lightly, even in the midst of the city crowd. The heaviness that gradually returned was perhaps the pull of memory and my connection to the world.

Born in Guangdong, China

Are the animals in the zoo truly happy?
I sometimes catch myself staring—at their lonely backs, at the countless scratches carved into the glass.
Freedom, of course, has no place there.
And yet, what stands "outside" are not living creatures but statues of animals. Exposed to the wind, these lifeless figures seem almost to sneer at their caged companions.
At times I imagine: if the animals slipped free of their cages, locked the fan inside instead, and fled through a hidden passage—would they raise a toast to freedom in the meadow?

Born in Henan, China

I have never thought of movement and stillness as opposites.They often appear together, and at times their difference is barely perceptible. A bird taking flight is not noisy; a gently rippling surface of water is not truly still.
The phrase Movement and Stillness as One comes closest to the sensation I felt in such moments. There was no need to enlarge one perspective over the other, nor to highlight anything—I simply wanted to leave the scene as it was.
It is the subtle relationship between movement and stillness.