We live in a society where we constantly encounter people who are different from ourselves. Through these encounters with others, we gradually become new versions of ourselves. Childhood memories are like a chrysalis for a butterfly—an invisible yet essential presence that quietly shapes who we become.

The gestures of our bodies and the ways we think are formed through countless experiences. These experiences allow us to distinguish, choose, and respond to the world around us. Each experience is unique. Just as we carry a desire to understand ourselves, the gaze of others and our own reflections constantly reshape our sense of confidence and insecurity. Through what happens around us, we come to recognize and confirm our own existence. It is precisely because different beings exist that encounters and coincidences can become moments of joy.

By pushing ourselves into darkness, we sometimes begin to see new images and perspectives. Yet the self can never be perfectly conveyed to others. This work explores how we face our personal emotions, and how, through encounters with ourselves and the stories of those around us, we reflect on how we might continue to live.

​

In my 2021 graduation project Don't Worry, It Is Okay, I created an installation that reflects on the experiences of international students who face various difficulties while studying abroad. A projector rotating 360 degrees functions as a metaphor for my own point of view. Its projection overlaps with multiple screens representing different “others,” generating complex visual interactions within the exhibition space.

The rotating projector continuously merges with and separates from other projected images. Part of the footage projected through the rotating projector consists of tens of thousands of photographs stored on my mobile phone. Using the phone’s original functions, I zoomed in and out of the eyes of the people appearing in these photographs.

Another element in the installation is the use of cupping therapy cups, a traditional Chinese folk medical practice in which glass or plastic cups are placed on the skin to create suction, drawing out stagnant blood (known as yu xue) and improving circulation. In the installation, these cups were placed on top of screens displaying video works inspired by interviews with several international students about their emotional experiences and struggles. Different video collages were placed beneath each cup.

These images metaphorically represent the “stagnant blood” of their emotions and memories, allowing their past experiences to circulate like blood within the space. In addition, various bodily movements appearing in the projected videos were extracted from their original contexts. By isolating these gestures, the work reinterprets the documented material and shifts attention from narrative documentation to the physicality of action itself.

​

The video at the front of the exhibition hall is a video shot on the Jōgasaki Coast of the Miura Peninsula. One of the interviewees was told that he got a sense of nostalgia at that place, so he actually went there and observed. The sea was fi erce at low tide, and the sea wind hit my face so hard it was like a knife. Because it was winter, the day quickly turned to night, and gradually the light began to fade in the distance, as if the coast had been half swallowed up. It was as if anxiety and strong winds ate my voice. Therefore, I created a video with subtitles displaying text about what I had fi lmed and about the images. To increase the realism of the images, a black curtain was placed from the screen to the front where the viewer stands, as if the sea were actually there. The strong sound of the ocean at low tide at that location will always be unforgettable, and was played repeatedly as the sound of the entire installation.

​

​