In this project, I did a series of photography on capturing the subtle faces in daily life. Compare to my previous project, it was much more haphazard; as what I had decided about this project, I tried not to make art on my scale of good and more enhance the reaction of mine on the present reality, which I was being defensive for a long time. The form of art in my project was also very suited in this way. As a genre of art, photography is actually based on every moment of reality, nurturing the subtlety of light and flash in continuous motion.
May also because of the form of photography or may not, I was still not feeling satisfied with this project. It was absolutely charming to find and record some attractive things through camera, and able to see all my photos anytime that meeting all those things at any time, like freezing some instant, wayward, fragile beautifulness, but it felt not enough— lack of some density of presence. I’d like to more agree that this is unsatisfying in my life. I am more and more familiar with this state; the dryness and flatness are going to grey all. Thinking about the presentation in art track this week, I value other people’s works so much, and it also shows what is happening on people. I want to find a way and a place for me to be— this is about the present and potential present(the future). It is quite interesting that there is a me looking at the growing me and smelling the smell as a lead to make decisions since I was nearly in primary school. I am not devoted to emotions, the things related to the I who was watching are always so intriguing (not the totally the me that watch, like the place in between that is continuously creating ). I don’t really know what is happening and had happened, a detachment is keeping happening, even words become difficult; I know it was carried on me at least from my childhood, but flourishing so much now. There are many things I should do.
After I got all the photos, I put them together to view, not one piece after another one. Scattering on the floor, there were attractions of those photos– those moments and the objects, that met at the same time. I felt excited that it has only happened in a moment, not one and one flash to form a period of senses. There were some implicit mysteries hidden there, just like that more essential relationship with objects shown in the photos.
I wonder what and how.
There were also some interesting things that I noticed in the whole view.
Thinking back to the Watermellon, the starter point of this project, I had been fascinated by an underlying ambiguous desire of the sense of going deeper. I also noticed the colourful ambiguity in my photos– contain a sense of sexuality and a pure desire with no evil or good at all. It had started my sensation of metaphor and the latent characteristic, which also the another approach to objects, as another perspective that I described at the beginning of this project.
The element of the gate was quite an impressive metaphor in the “after viewing” this time. It was shown in several photos and connected all.
This gave me inspiration for my final exhibition, and I decided to install a place that had different doors inside（ I mean the metaphorical door ）. There would be different layers in this space, and the photos would be shown under the different doors in different layers. This space would be like a maze for the people to walk inside and see the intrinsic angles of a larger complex world.
All feels like on the edge
All with an urge
In white, and her red.
Meet her lover
Pure harmonious hilarity
” Have the tea, please.”
The day, I was going to Blank Space to see the exhibition A Higher Calling.
It was the first snow, those atoms of me in my body and air were calling for a walk in the snow, and so I walked, and missed the exhibition.
They said, “the Black Space is not open today”.
In the higher calling of a day-walk in the snow in a call.
Cathelia is walking on the long road. All is the desert around, she is bared feet, naked neck, and wading across this land. Going ahead. Going back. Going to the Water of Life.
Cathelia, Catherlia, walking on the desert of land. She is having her period, blood dropped into the arid sand; all drunken. The toe cap worn, no longer incisive and bright, it loses the direction pointed her way of next.
Is it the Water of Life? I cried.
“It is the Water of Life!”, Cathelia cried.