If I will live to be 90 years old, I have left.
a book is A Window

Book Design, Dec 2021.
Laser Print, 31 pages, 5.5 × 8.5 in.

Draw a window on the wall
to remind you of the sun.
to remind you of the rain that taps.
to remind you of the sunset that makes you smile.
to remind you of the moonlight that sneaks in your room.
to remind you of the snow that covers the world.
--- Yoko Ono
a book is A Music Video for The Random Stone

Cassette Design, Frame by Frame Drawing, Sep 2021.
risograph, 5.5 × 8.5 in.
#from here#

I picked up a random stone after my 8:30 p.m. class.

The stone was under the tree across Pollack building. I believe that tree had lots of unique features worth introducing. But I paid all my attention to staring at the ground to look for a stone. I don’t even remember how its trunk looked like. It was my problem though.

The first stone that came into view was the one in a triangle shape and with round corners. It reminds me of Japanese rice balls.

If the stone knew why I picked it, I bet it would be disappointed. The reason is no reason. It was the first stone I saw, so I chose it. If it was other stones that sit there, I would pick them up too… I know this is not a decent reason. People would usually expect a deep and strong meaning behind a decision. I feel like I could fake so many reasons to make the stone sound more valuable. But I just can’t lie to myself, and the stone.

I picked it up and put in my bag, I felt like I shouldn’t hold in my hands all the way home. Because I cannot see what was on in the night. There should be mud, I could feel the mud. If worse, there would be some bugs, and the worst should be the COVID virus, which I would never be able to see with my eyes.

I took home, place on the upside-down container, put some lights on, and I started to draw, everyday…. Sometimes I drew right after I got off my bed, and before I went to bed. Sometimes I drew when I felt like I was about to explode. But every time, I would pay attention to the sounds around me when I drew. Most of the time, I listened to a song that best described my feeling, but there was also a time I drew with the water boiling in the kettle beside my head, or just the midnight white noise in my room (I’d like to tell you more about that white noise in my room, but I haven’t figured out where does that machine roaring noise come from…. normally I don’t notice the roaring sounds until the moment it stops… but I’m sure there’s also some insects and birds chirping in between those roaring noise)

II don’t know if I should define this series as sound drawings, my mood diary, or portraits of a random stone. But it definitely is a mix of every random and plain thing, a stone from nowhere, the emotions from nowhere, and the sounds from nowhere. The most definite thing is this piece is the time.

There’s no certain way to enjoy this piece, you could read it, listen to it or feel it with your hands. All the photos and drawings are the life size of the stone. I think the stone wouldn’t mind how it is viewed, heard and touched because it didn’t refuse when I picked it up. It was silent like a moon behind heavy clouds. Maybe it was screaming silently inside itself, but there’s no way I can turn the stone inside out. So I will just give this overbearing conclusion.
a book is a Container that holds my samples from Introduction to Fiber class

Apr 2022.
a book is An Abandoned building

hold the 1460 days in hands and dust off the building as you flip the book...
Book Design, Feb 2022.
laser print on newsprint paper; spray paint,
1460 pages, 2.5 × 2.5 x7.5 cm.
a book is Made for Cats

Book Design, Jun 2021.
risograph, 23 pages, 8 × 12 cm.
a book is My Green Lucky Charm

Zine, Jun 2021.
laser print, 76 pages,
2.2 x 2.2 cm.

In the photo editing class at my university, we were taught that desaturating the green in photography can lead to a more elegant visual.

That greenness of my hometown in my memories is always too saturated, sticky, and humid.

Green is the uniform of the high school students rushing to cram school. That green becomes dark soaking in the sweat. Green is the grass grown in squares on the sidewalk. They always smell like wet dog poo in the humid summer afternoon.

Green is the street sign with red calligraphy, warning.

Green is the fried vegetable with garlic my mom made. Green is politic. Green is the mountain I could see from the balcony but now blocked by the newly built apartment.

Green is my homesickness.
a book is An ( ) Recipe

Zine, Jul 2021.
laser print, 14 pages,
8.5 x 5.5 cm.