Fine Line, 2021

Throughout my early childhood, I used to go on walks at the crack of dawn with my grandmother. In the morning cold, infinite dewdrops hung heavily on the spiderwebs, delicately woven in between the telephone wires-- the first sun rays would light them up like crystals. These telephone wires stretched out for miles in between the rice and tobacco fields, and the concrete poles they were connected to acted as faint guidelines, marking where our path was headed. Memories that would remain dull otherwise shine brightly in our minds every once in a while like the hanging dew drops when the sun beam hits it at the perfect angle and triggers its twinkling lights. These structures are carefully balanced in between the black telephone wires of our minds-- thick ropes that have timelessly delivered our usual expected train of thought. The delicate fine lines are a collection of one sentimental moment connected to infinite more thoughts in inexplicable ways, stimulating us to search out for something more that we can connect to, whether that be something we have not experienced yet, or have long forgotten about in our memories. 

But when even a single dew becomes too heavy the delicate web snaps altogether, and the slightest vibrations could trigger the collapse of countless more.

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Video projected onto installation: