My father is the type of man who believes that all objects are collectible. It proves useful to possess artifacts, like writing out a language of his own.
Some instruments mean the love of music—for instance, the piano—or well-travelled—a mbila from a one-off trip, a shamisen and bachi that my mother remembered of him in Kyoto. Of course some things remain ornamental, like his old books, but they still hold out the possibility to be enjoyed.
It was the best emotion when I could feel like I can invent myself. Eventually I learned how I could shorten time. Take A Calm Song Unfolding (11 x 16.25”, acrylic on paper, 2011). Anything we display has corrective properties. We can generalize all we want, but for now that’s how we see the world.