I look out from a window… I wipe away my breath on the glass…
I walk between spaces, to and fro… traveling along the stairway which is both familiar and strange… My body used to be here, penetrating the space. The mark on the wall reveals the traces of some family, foreseeing the long-gone existence.
But the long-gone existence seems never exist at all. The once familiar becomes inexplicably alien. The only thing remains is visualized as a two-dimensional symbol-like home.
The structure of the house gradually emerges, as if it forcefully created a conversation between the deconstruction and the reconstruction of a virtual space… However, can the image fully reveal what we used to be and what we used to have? Can it really replace our existence?