“wel...well....welcome to ...my...space......”

A sentence composed of just a few English words. When we speak it aloud, it is immediately infused with personal tone—shaped by inflections, pauses, hesitations, accents, and breaths. The phrase itself suggests a gesture toward space, but I resist offering it a clear outline. Instead, it lingers in the act of my rehearsal: a sentence uttered into air that shifts with humidity and the movement of wind, exhaling and inhaling different atmospheres.

It becomes a way to clarify and arrange the relations within the exhibition—between object and object, object and space, space and myself, myself and the viewer. For instance, the repeated exercise of this phrase has been enclosed in the same form, turning into objects that both occupy and define space. Or that curved wall, cutting across and redistributing the room; that small night lamp, dividing and balancing the light of other works while adjusting the brightness of its corner. Throughout, it is as though the work relies on the viewer’s own experience to construct what it cannot fully reach on its own—yet always moving in that direction.