Threshold (2026)
— Site-responsive Video Installation
The image becomes perceptible only under specific conditions of light, proximity, and bodily presence. In this work, disappearance is as essential as visibility.
The image is a guest in the space—it arrives with a breath and curiosity, stays for a gesture, and dissolves into the woods as you leave. A dialogue between the digital fragments and the audience’s intent.

An experiment in creating a sense of movement and psychological presence through stop-motion, aspect ratio, and sound. Composed of thousands of long-exposure still photographs later assembled as animation, the film attempts to externalize the perception of a dancer during improvisation. The feeling of yi—the unification of mind, body, and space that arises in improvisational movement—is carried by the dancer’s breath. That breath becomes a bridge between the audience, who remains in the outer world, and the film, which unfolds in the inner one.
Yi (2017)
Credit: writer, director, editor
with still black and white photography, stop animation technique


It’s a film that questions how “love” is experienced within the Chinese family. Within a single, uninterrupted shot, recurring sounds and a constantly reforming face create the dramaturgy. The structure echoes contemporary classical music, where repetition, variation, and subtle shifts generate tension. A small change in writing becomes a quiet metaphor for a larger social pressure. At first, the character writes “love” in traditional Chinese — 愛, a form that contains the radical for “heart.” She is told it is incorrect and must revise it. As she rewrites the word again and again, she is finally acknowledged only when she adopts the simplified form — 爱 — the version with the “heart” removed.
