(2021) inkjet print on canvas・ paper-pulp making・ cross-stitch
My rides on planes increased ever since I started studying abroad. Unexpectedly, I am not good with planes, nor do I favour the time spent in them. There’s something very strange and unique about being in a metal lump, suspended in the sky. There's something even more ironic about having the heaviest thoughts flood your mind, as you are surrounded by the aluminium walls of a vehicle in the clouds. In this space, hours can feel long yet short, thoughts can range through the spectrum of intense and banal.
And with the abrupt intercom transmission, ladies and gentlemen, we have landed, your thoughts ground too with gravity.
The ground, air, humidity, sounds, light should all be something of familiarity. The body absorbs all these information, understanding that it is being offered affection from the land of which it has threaded before. However, the mind projects memories of previous lands, and dissonance occurs. This peculiar and fleeting sensation of discordance recalls over and over as I transverse between places, as if disregarding my respective fondness for each of them.