Statement - 2024

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One day, I came across a stone

I picked it up and looked at it closely

I was checking to see if there was something drawn on it...

and before I knew it, I had come across another stone

And thus, I find myself repeating this act.

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I carry a city within my dreams.

It began as a world woven from childhood fears of ruin.

In this place are people I will never meet again.

There are also precious ones I’ve never known.

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Where lies the difference between record and memory?

Memory passes through our skin, becoming our flesh and organs.

Sometimes, fragments of memory reside within records,

and those who are gone are etched as scars into my own memory.

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I wonder how many people pass me by each day.

At any moment, thousands of strangers brush past me,

in the blink of an eye.

I feel as though I touch countless people each day whose names I’ll never know.

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Like the woman pouring milk in that painting,

will there one day be a sense of mystery in this simple act?