Last summer, I stayed in Sacatar Foundation on a small island in Brazil. I woke up every morning before sunrise to meditate on the beach, wanting to feel the endless sky and sea with my whole body. I take a deep breath in and the morning air fills my body, and as I exhale, the air that was once a part of me returns to the atmosphere. As the sun rises I enter the silent sea. The boundaries of my body melt away and I become one with the sea water.
The sandy beach reflects the shape of the waves, creating patterns in the sand and leaving traces of the life of the many creatures that live in the beach. I pick up a piece of broken shell at my feet and draw a line on the sand. The sharp angle of the morning sun creates a deep abyss of shadow, a boundary line that divides the world into here and there, and at the same time appears to be a proof of my life. When the sun rose, the lines on the sand disappeared completely in the rising tide.
The morning I drew my first line-drawing on the beach, I received the news that my mother was in critical condition. I drew lines on the beach every day thinking of my mother until I could book a flight home on short notice.
I wanted to create a work on the theme of BORDER, a boundary that appears and disappears.
I saw ” Hannyo” at Yoyogi Open Air Noh theater under the big storm yesterday. The dancer and singer corresponded to the thunder and splash created super dramatic atmosphere.
