Recording of a Shooting.

There’s a sense of being hollowed out slowly and deeply, as if everything is happening all over again, yet it exists only within the images. The life within the images keeps rolling and reminding me that I no longer possess that time — that good time has already slipped away.

The feelings for past.

An interview went on. We tried to figure out the film we worked together. Simple but complex. Time is such an interesting thing.

Waiting. Waiting for the train. Fuzhou Station.

Growing is such a miserable illusion.

Recording the way things are.

Shower and name. Destruction and reconstruction. Over and over. Again and again. This is my body and within my self. Long lays the nature. Nature.

Me and my sister. I don't think an answer is needed but the endless feeling spreading.

A man fell.