Three plinths, three projectors in a not-too-square space.

It’s sunny outside, the entrance is leaking with light.

 

It’s 6pm; I exhaled the last breath of smoke and I’m ready to go.

 

I walk to the far corner and turn on the machines, starting from here then there and over there.

 

The motion of sound has filled the gallery space. The artificial lights shine through the film to the lens and onto the wall. The imageries float and now moving. I have become the extension of these machines and orbit around this small and wonderful planet.

 

 

The entrance was leaking with light, but it has slowly disappeared.

 

It’s getting darker.

It’s dark.

There is no light leaking from the door.

 

The footage is getting clearer.

 

People are watching.

People are talking.

People are walking.

 

8.59pm, flashing lights in the space is getting dimmer, the mechanic sound is decelerating.

 

From 3

 

2

 

1

–

 

So it’s over.

text by Joyce Ho