Belly 肚子

Belly, 2018
Old clothing, wardrobe, stones from Chuen Lung’s river, fish tank, broken surface from artist’s house,table, drying rack, fans, TVs, projection, wooden stage, shoe racks
Dimension variable

Seeing your every gesture, I imagine you as a newborn, when the spoken word was still unknown to you and mutual understanding or misunderstanding did not matter either. Apart from your words, I concentrate on your face, line of vision, breathing, the way you speak, your tone of voice, gait, the clothes your wear, adornment at the venue, and even your brows, shoulders, waist, down to body shape.

In the mountain, the dialogue unfolds a genealogy. The plying between past and future is summed up instantaneously in the bouncing vitality of the flesh in the present. The timeline is rolled up in a dot, where intimacy and alienation between the individual and community somehow finds their answer among the vast network of loose ends.

During the interview in the room, light infuses into it from outside, and slips away at nightfall. There are always people in and out, at one time and another, sustaining a kind of breathing on either end. I leave tired and armed with the dialogue. As I turn around, what I see is a continuously pulsating belly at the waist which has nurtured an innumerable number of lives.



在房間訪談,光從外流進它,入夜自它溜走。總有些人在前;有些人在後,前後的人延續了某種呼吸。 我帶著倦容與對話離去,轉過面,眼前是鼓動連綿的,不知孕育了多少生命的肚子,同樣在腰間。