Movement, Metamorphosis and Extinction… This cyclical life collapsing like a weight on me in recent year is becoming more and more unbearable each passing day. Are these going on inside my head parts of a longing for nostalgia? I don’t know. But, each day is nothing more than a lost day for me.
We start to lose the name of and for the photography greatly. At least I feel this way. I dislike this situation. I need to return to the basics, origins of the photography. To the roots known in China even 2500 years ago… All I need is a dark box and a recorder. To record movement, metamorphosis and extinction; to witness the extinction of my roots; to show the trees uprooted, restrained in pots, murdered… All I need is a box and a recorder…