Falling. Slowly. but,











Falling. Slowly. but, Installation view
Inkjet prints, Variable dimensions

Green. Daylight. Softness.

That’s the image of my dear childhood time in my grandparents’ house from my vague memory.

People age, house ages as well.

Gently, subtly.

That house of my grandparents, the one that never changes all those years, the one that contains my precious childhood memories, is now on the edge of being torn down.

It is such an old house.

My grandparents are getting old before I realize it. Yet they live the same way, cooking the old style dishes, speaking Shanghainese in that familiar tone.

Things change always. Things stay always.

That house would stand there in time and the moment I step into it I would be able to go back to the point where I was a little girl.

It might just be my fantasy. But it stays with me, forever and a day.