......................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Untitled-3.jpg
fake mountain.jpg
edge.jpg
family hunting.jpg
man on rock.jpg
moon light (bright).jpg
tree and shadow(less red).jpg
grandma's room.jpg
firework on the ground2.jpg
mountain climbing(bright).jpg
wall_1.jpg
yard.jpg
grandma's room2.jpg
fire(bright).jpg
wind and grass_2.jpg
flower.jpg
dog and duck.jpg
bus and fire.jpg
songbook.jpg
firworks pile 3.jpg
grass on sand 2.jpg
firework on the ground.jpg
Beibei.jpg
peanut soup.jpg
lake reflection.jpg
 I find two words/phrases in English especially beautiful and poetic. One is “mortality”, the other is “life expectancy”. They refer to similar topics but different focuses. There is no direct translation in Chinese, my mother tongue, of the word: mortality. I fell in love with its notion the first time I looked it up in a dictionary where it was explained in such a minimal yet profound way: “the state of being subject to death”. I read it over and over again. Instead of describing a permanent fact, the word “state” provides a fantastic illusion of having other possibilities, and the chance of escaping and denying the current state. Meanwhile, “being subject to” highlights and romanticizes the vulnerable nature of human’s life. The phrase “life expectancy” shares the same quality with the word “mortality” that I find attractive. Although usually been used as a noun that describes the average period a person may live, the root of the word “expect” also hints at the acknowledgement of the finality of death, which, to me, has a tone of calm and peace, if not delight and joy.   Simply because of the lack of the word “mortality” in my language, I was surprised by how “uneducated” I was about the notion: the limitation of human’s life span. Not that I don’t know that we are all going to die, but this idea is secretly hidden beyond my consciousness since I was unable to name it. It seems that my ancestor decided not to create this word in order to keep us from acknowledging the cruelty of life and death. I am amazed by the magical and mysterious atmosphere this word carries, as if I finally encounter the truth of life.   The series  Before the Storm, Under the Sun  is my effort to digest the notion of mortality through witnessing the whole process of my grandma’s death that happened in one month. I photograph as a unconscious way to escape from the moment. Instead of a documentation, I consider these photos as a prose poem composed in the way of song writing. 

I find two words/phrases in English especially beautiful and poetic. One is “mortality”, the other is “life expectancy”. They refer to similar topics but different focuses. There is no direct translation in Chinese, my mother tongue, of the word: mortality. I fell in love with its notion the first time I looked it up in a dictionary where it was explained in such a minimal yet profound way: “the state of being subject to death”. I read it over and over again. Instead of describing a permanent fact, the word “state” provides a fantastic illusion of having other possibilities, and the chance of escaping and denying the current state. Meanwhile, “being subject to” highlights and romanticizes the vulnerable nature of human’s life. The phrase “life expectancy” shares the same quality with the word “mortality” that I find attractive. Although usually been used as a noun that describes the average period a person may live, the root of the word “expect” also hints at the acknowledgement of the finality of death, which, to me, has a tone of calm and peace, if not delight and joy. 

Simply because of the lack of the word “mortality” in my language, I was surprised by how “uneducated” I was about the notion: the limitation of human’s life span. Not that I don’t know that we are all going to die, but this idea is secretly hidden beyond my consciousness since I was unable to name it. It seems that my ancestor decided not to create this word in order to keep us from acknowledging the cruelty of life and death. I am amazed by the magical and mysterious atmosphere this word carries, as if I finally encounter the truth of life. 

The series Before the Storm, Under the Sun is my effort to digest the notion of mortality through witnessing the whole process of my grandma’s death that happened in one month. I photograph as a unconscious way to escape from the moment. Instead of a documentation, I consider these photos as a prose poem composed in the way of song writing. 

 installation view

installation view

Installation_view_3.jpg
Installation_view_4.jpg
Installation_view_2.jpg
Installation_view_7.jpg
Installation_view_1.jpg

I find two words/phrases in English especially beautiful and poetic. One is “mortality”, the other is “life expectancy”. They refer to similar topics but different focuses. There is no direct translation in Chinese, my mother tongue, of the word: mortality. I fell in love with its notion the first time I looked it up in a dictionary where it was explained in such a minimal yet profound way: “the state of being subject to death”. I read it over and over again. Instead of describing a permanent fact, the word “state” provides a fantastic illusion of having other possibilities, and the chance of escaping and denying the current state. Meanwhile, “being subject to” highlights and romanticizes the vulnerable nature of human’s life. The phrase “life expectancy” shares the same quality with the word “mortality” that I find attractive. Although usually been used as a noun that describes the average period a person may live, the root of the word “expect” also hints at the acknowledgement of the finality of death, which, to me, has a tone of calm and peace, if not delight and joy. 

Simply because of the lack of the word “mortality” in my language, I was surprised by how “uneducated” I was about the notion: the limitation of human’s life span. Not that I don’t know that we are all going to die, but this idea is secretly hidden beyond my consciousness since I was unable to name it. It seems that my ancestor decided not to create this word in order to keep us from acknowledging the cruelty of life and death. I am amazed by the magical and mysterious atmosphere this word carries, as if I finally encounter the truth of life. 

The series Before the Storm, Under the Sun is my effort to digest the notion of mortality through witnessing the whole process of my grandma’s death that happened in one month. I photograph as a unconscious way to escape from the moment. Instead of a documentation, I consider these photos as a prose poem composed in the way of song writing. 

installation view

Untitled-3.jpg
fake mountain.jpg
edge.jpg
family hunting.jpg
man on rock.jpg
moon light (bright).jpg
tree and shadow(less red).jpg
grandma's room.jpg
firework on the ground2.jpg
mountain climbing(bright).jpg
wall_1.jpg
yard.jpg
grandma's room2.jpg
fire(bright).jpg
wind and grass_2.jpg
flower.jpg
dog and duck.jpg
bus and fire.jpg
songbook.jpg
firworks pile 3.jpg
grass on sand 2.jpg
firework on the ground.jpg
Beibei.jpg
peanut soup.jpg
lake reflection.jpg
 I find two words/phrases in English especially beautiful and poetic. One is “mortality”, the other is “life expectancy”. They refer to similar topics but different focuses. There is no direct translation in Chinese, my mother tongue, of the word: mortality. I fell in love with its notion the first time I looked it up in a dictionary where it was explained in such a minimal yet profound way: “the state of being subject to death”. I read it over and over again. Instead of describing a permanent fact, the word “state” provides a fantastic illusion of having other possibilities, and the chance of escaping and denying the current state. Meanwhile, “being subject to” highlights and romanticizes the vulnerable nature of human’s life. The phrase “life expectancy” shares the same quality with the word “mortality” that I find attractive. Although usually been used as a noun that describes the average period a person may live, the root of the word “expect” also hints at the acknowledgement of the finality of death, which, to me, has a tone of calm and peace, if not delight and joy.   Simply because of the lack of the word “mortality” in my language, I was surprised by how “uneducated” I was about the notion: the limitation of human’s life span. Not that I don’t know that we are all going to die, but this idea is secretly hidden beyond my consciousness since I was unable to name it. It seems that my ancestor decided not to create this word in order to keep us from acknowledging the cruelty of life and death. I am amazed by the magical and mysterious atmosphere this word carries, as if I finally encounter the truth of life.   The series  Before the Storm, Under the Sun  is my effort to digest the notion of mortality through witnessing the whole process of my grandma’s death that happened in one month. I photograph as a unconscious way to escape from the moment. Instead of a documentation, I consider these photos as a prose poem composed in the way of song writing. 
 installation view
Installation_view_3.jpg
Installation_view_4.jpg
Installation_view_2.jpg
Installation_view_7.jpg
Installation_view_1.jpg