What does actual life mean? He turned. At his feet lay the shape of Orthros' imprint; the puppy used to lean against him whenever he sits still. Between him and the animal is the namelessness. The last time he wrote with Orthros, the puppy was 4, laying on the ground by the fireplace, the little one's soft golden coat completely hidden under the shifting cloak of heat. And now he is 37. As he races to record his memory, Orthros' imprint, was long gone. (Wake), 2021
Burnt linen, rubberwood
91.5 x 60 x 7.6 cm
EACH MODERN (Taipei, TW)
MARCH 11 - APRIL 16, 2022