2021.10

(This text is included in a solo exhibition <(Feathers ( ))> (2022.06, tya,Seoul))

→A bird struck the windowpane. Feathers dislodged by the impact were caught in the air currents and scattered. And someone piles them up.

→→The events of collision, scattering, and piling occur along a horizontal timeline.

→→→Has the time gap between the images, stuck together and layered, vanished?

→I zoom out slightly from the horizontal line to compress it into a vertical one.

→→→Around six in the evening, this room is filled with the lumpy light descending the hill. I imagine myself sitting here two months from now. The back of my neck will be a little redder.

→You are inside the window, and your eyes meet those of a bird flying toward the transparent barrier.

→When you stretch that moment out, can you discern the difference in the dot-like markings between a feather falling from the bird's own flapping wings and one shed by the collision? Even if we stretch the moment infinitely long, since it is relative, do we not simply lump everything together as ‘shedding’?

→→Private moments are captured outside desire and stored within it. And it seeks to infiltrate other private moments.

→→→I asked to be ignored. I write it and attach it. You gaze upon the request for disregard that is attached.

→→Have you ever read yourself? Did you ever strive to have someone absorb that result?

→→Private events bearing the desire to penetrate fiercely pierce others like the silhouette of an arrow, yet ultimately scatter like feathers bending with a soft touch, do they not?

→→→It is a request for the desire to penetrate (that refuses penetration).

→The bird that collided earlier returns and crashes again. It repeats the collision.

→→→Do you accept that request? Then what of the private moments hidden in every corner?

→Feathers that fell with a time lag are brought inside by ‘your you’.

→‘Your you’ piles them up.

→Is what ‘your you’ has piled up yours?