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Photographic image from films transferred on paper pulp sculpture

Documentation Video;
Jul 2022

Note;
Aug 2022

As I hiked amongst the trees, there were towers I saw, built of stones, and I stared at them, fascinated.

They sat by a trail I'd often go to and over time, the trail went through changes.

Typhoons blew by and the road even flooded, but despite the changes, the towers of stone always stood.

In all the silence of that trail, among the quiet trees, the towers seemed to speak to me.

Then a thought came to me, as I looked at the stone tower: living is similar. Events of varying values constantly happen in our lives; a small inconvenience could cause us significant pain or something we were anxious about might turn out well. The story of who we are are made of the different, varying, and random things that happen in our lives.

Just as the stones are scattered, piled together to form into a tower, I gather the pieces of my experience and stack them into an amalgamation of who I am.  

When I need to put down my thoughts, I still prefer to use paper and pencil. But my thoughts do not always fit into words. When this situation arises, I crumple up the paper instead, and lump them together. To me, the crumpled paper are like stones, a shape made by an unconscious nature. The wrinkled and lumpy forms somehow seem similar to my thoughts or situation.

Such things, created by the release of emotion without any clear purpose, piled up in my space, like a stone rolling down a street.

Though words can't define the stones, they became something to me. Things that were nothing began to become something. Crumpling paper made my thoughts clear, like a period to a sentence.

A tower of my sentiments solidified.

Mark
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