Zhu Xiang-sheng

Fu-Xuan is my classmate and friend. As a man who yearns for freedom, he has a cat. From January 12 to January 18, 2024, Fuxuan wanted to take me to meet Sesame, but she ran away.

One day after watching a film festival movie, I (the author) said to Chin-Chieh: "If there's nothing serious, I would like to watch another movie." That's when I realized I was classifying "go home" as a big event. February 23, 2023, I walked home on that day. On the way home, I noticed that it became quite ceremonial. The night scenes along the road, the memories of traveling with family, and the "failed" Super 8 images produced at home, all turned into the scenery of memories. At the same time, I also realize that when I am in the space of my home, I impose constraints on myself.

The person in the photo is my grandma. She passed away… After developing this roll of film, I found out this is the only portrait. My grandma is blurred in this photo. I neither knew the reason what happened to me back then. The distance between me and Grandma has always been so far, and the closest one. It's the moment when our eyes meet in the camera.

A young man preparing to move into the city, a woman about to leave the city, briefly cross paths during a house viewing.A fleeting moment, too insignificant to mention. As if nothing had happened, yet not entirely so...

An old camera borrowed from a friend. It's enough to be carried in pocket. Since that day, I can forget to take wallet out, but I can't forget it. We get along day and night, work, eat, hang out and meet friends every time. And, there are also every passenger photographed by it.

Graduation is approaching, marking the close of a chapter. I took my camera to Green Island, recording video letters day by day. But the camera became unruly, backup batteries went missing, and the trip began to go downhill. Typhoons arrived, and the video letters ceased... Finally, facing the sea beneath the sun, my camera non-responsive, I took a Dramamine, then boated back home.