Missing days, drifting memories
2022, Rag clothes, hydrochromic ink, Acrylic, Dimensions Variable
Living through the pandemic, working from home has become the new norm. As the boundary between work and personal life blurs, I've found that tidying up has become a daily ritual for me switching between different modes.
My grandpa has a regular routine of tearing off the daily calendar, folding the corners on important days, and jotting down notes about family and doctor's appointments - it's his diary. Even during his last days, he never forgot about it, leaving the calendar on the current day.
With his passing, the calendar remained on that day. Regularities have disappeared with him, fading into scattered particles, trivial yet important.
The mess or tidy living environment shows a clue to one's mental condition. Dwelling in this time river, I started to tear off daily calendars and clean up the dust, both physically and mentally.
My grandpa has a regular routine of tearing off the daily calendar, folding the corners on important days, and jotting down notes about family and doctor's appointments - it's his diary. Even during his last days, he never forgot about it, leaving the calendar on the current day.
With his passing, the calendar remained on that day. Regularities have disappeared with him, fading into scattered particles, trivial yet important.
The mess or tidy living environment shows a clue to one's mental condition. Dwelling in this time river, I started to tear off daily calendars and clean up the dust, both physically and mentally.
As I hang up the dates, I realize that those missing days are where memories drift through.
in memory of my grandpa.
Photography | Chung-Ping Wang
←