the quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog
(but what colour is the dog?)
i might as well be moving into un/moving
nov 2020 - ongoing
a series of movement films or abstract documentaries of my projected temporary liminal residence in singapore between late 2020 and early 2021. currently these are made in the locale in and around the studiospace i am living and working in.
also a kind of extension of those i made in taiwan in "my moving in 台中 (taichung, taiwan)"
the title is a statement as much as a question that i have for guiding this project. the tension of moving and unmoving (where my life plays out) runs through the state of my geographical identity and translates into my movement. i am thinking about my choice to come to singapore again, and the implications or pressures that went into that choice now that i am here having decided before to pursue a living that was centered around moving (between different cities in taiwan, different communities, different identities as artist, foreigner, native, person). to be here feels like temporarily giving up that lifestyle and trying to move into a place that is static, not moving, to move into a state of stability, of quiet, of unmoving. then, not knowing (dependent on travel restrictions, work opportunities) when i will return to taiwan again, if ever. and rather than just thinking about isolation and displacement (physical or emotional manifested) because of the pandemic, i want to remember that i had already been isolated, already been displaced because of my shifting identities. now then to more acutely understand why. and then, so what? is it possible to continue moving in this state? or what state do i want to move into?
hover exit i k(n(how) to except
in the hallway to the studio where im living and working theres an exit sign
in the corner with the dowsing
jon brought back some unwanted bottles of water to the studio