Chen Ting-Chun ／ Taiwan
Memory often escapes from me and cheats me, forcing me to rely on and believe in vision. Through the messages, I try to explore the truth existing at that time. I forgot the memory about/of home, but when seeing the white wall with mold, I am sure there were frequent and intimate dialogues between water and cement in some period of time. The decaying iron gate that used to be blue, now becomes the playground of rust and paint. I left signs and marks in the process of creation to overcome fear of loss. The gradual changing process is like an encounter, getting along with others, and compatibility in the flow of time. Looking at the compact and loose permutation and combination, and intense and chaotic color change, I know they really exist in my life.