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How Far is the Foreign Lands // Curated by Stavroula Coulianidis

Beijing in February is a dream that ended too early for me. The tragedy of geography had been planted and the roots sprouted. It has been more than 500 days since I last stood on the land of my hometown, and the memories shadowed by uncertainty have become more turbulent. My existence was as light as a feather, how can I measure the weight of the memories that settled in it? The road that goes on and on towards the mountain is like a giant that keeps approaching, but infinitely moves backward. In the darkness, I vaguely see …