Single channel video projection, wax from a white candle, a piece of old newspaper about the public meeting on 4 June 1996, an ashtray, cigarette butts, ash, cigarette packs, DNA
Recently, it is about the past. The heaviest has become light; the most painful has precipitated boredom. Is my mind stronger? Or is it hollow? I feel that certain greatness has gone. The times and the people are stranded in an interim, or at a dead end.
A red is searing upon the head and a white is being grasped in the hand. The blade edges the body closely but the body is still eager to step out for the pain to verify the truth of existence. I am worried that it is going to lose its temperature from the palm in a blink. I am not afraid but I don’t know.