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“[...] in a plane[...] You settle into your seat, look out the window. You can also get up and move up and down the aisle. Soon the plane takes off and you notice some shafts of light appearing in the ceiling and floor. Then the plane begins to fall apart. Your worst nightmare. [...] You begin to reach out with your suddenly visible virtual hands to touch and hold the debris and objects that float past. You touch a lily and it shatters into pieces that become the words of a story or song.” (Quinzaine des Réalisateurs, 2019) | “[...] in a plane[...] You settle into your seat, look out the window. You can also get up and move up and down the aisle. Soon the plane takes off and you notice some shafts of light appearing in the ceiling and floor. Then the plane begins to fall apart. Your worst nightmare. [...] You begin to reach out with your suddenly visible virtual hands to touch and hold the debris and objects that float past. You touch a lily and it shatters into pieces that become the words of a story or song.” (Quinzaine des Réalisateurs, 2019) | ||
== Formality and Structure == | == Formality and Structure == | ||
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“Do we stand on a stable floor?” By posing this question, Dear My Tilted Floor gives people a thread of clues about awareness of their own understanding of the vulnerability of our body in these atmospheric environments. Within the methodology of forensic aesthetics, the collection of voice, thought, traces of places, gesture, and intention demonstrates these series of entangled movements with theatricality, narrative, and dramatization (Weizman). Through this experimental journey, the thing that I hope to convey is the danger of standstill, reinforced by a superficial instruction system which is believed to be concrete, yet could be truly meaningless and can even take our soul from our body. And our beloved, after they go back to nature, or no longer physically exist next to us, remain only as a memory of the shared happiness and nostalgia of our past present and future. That is, the thought and memory of our beautiful absence of beings endures now and also in the future. How light and at the same time how heavy is the weight of our beings. | “Do we stand on a stable floor?” By posing this question, Dear My Tilted Floor gives people a thread of clues about awareness of their own understanding of the vulnerability of our body in these atmospheric environments. Within the methodology of forensic aesthetics, the collection of voice, thought, traces of places, gesture, and intention demonstrates these series of entangled movements with theatricality, narrative, and dramatization (Weizman). Through this experimental journey, the thing that I hope to convey is the danger of standstill, reinforced by a superficial instruction system which is believed to be concrete, yet could be truly meaningless and can even take our soul from our body. And our beloved, after they go back to nature, or no longer physically exist next to us, remain only as a memory of the shared happiness and nostalgia of our past present and future. That is, the thought and memory of our beautiful absence of beings endures now and also in the future. How light and at the same time how heavy is the weight of our beings. | ||