Closet

My four limbs feel insufficient when my mind wants to travel further than their range of reach. To tackle the body’s limitations and augment its physical capacity, I have made the objects in Closet that are merges of tools and my body. They speak about the intimate relationship and co-dependence between the two, and are meant to negotiate emotional voids resulted from being physically separated from my homeland and my family.

The claim–for space

The paint roller makes a space built from my skin. There then exists a space that I can claim as mine as it is marked with the scars on my belly - the scars that made me feel special and enabled me to tell my body from others’ as a child. I need(ed) a space that I have control of, a space in which I wish to contain my family and keep them safe.

The touch–from afar

The retractable point stick allows my touch to reach across the air. It creates a physical bond between me and my family over a distance. I will be able to feel what they feel not through a digital screen, but a contact that is real, a contact where body is against body.

The dig–for destination

The shovel indicates an action of purposeful digging, a laborious search. It is a metaphor for the distance between my hand and my homeland. The wish to eliminate the separation and reconnect to a place with a sense of belonging is so overwhelming that my skin crawls over the face of the shovel and bridges the gap.

The Pull–of you that will not stay

The wire rope is for pulling a lost subject. The other end is to anchor my grandmother from my father’s side, to pull back her body that just would not stay here with me any more.