The South Is Infinite Yet Finite

When principles are framed and generalized as knowledge, how do we view everything when the unknown remains infinite?

Named after a line from Huishi’s The Ten Paradoxes, an excerpt from the chapter The World in Zhuangzi.

In this project, I try to visualize my perplexity and thoughts regarding understanding binary and hierarchical systems of knowledge production.

I am interested in the blurred boundaries at some specific timelines: the transition from alchemy to chemistry, witchcraft to medicine, astronomical observation for prophecies to the natural laws of physics, etc. I am intrigued by the reasons and cycles of obsolescence and revival: post-industrial machinery reimagined as fictional sci-fi elements in games and novels, while in reality, most are abandoned. The surviving ones, valued for their historical significance, become spectacles, while their everyday functions from the past fade into obscurity.

Ancient fables about omens of the future reflect our enduring. We hold similar questions.

Driven by a relentless curiosity to know more, I visit nearby universities, museums, libraries, laboratories, and archives—any spaces where knowledge resides—as often and widely as possible. I am consistently overwhelmed by the colors, symbols, textures, and materials of the objects within, and by the fragments of reality they embody. Back in my studio, almost obsessively, I analyze my photographs to understand what triggered me to think and create. I research the history and presence of these locations, and I create more photos based on my understanding, all while grappling with the humbling realization that it is impossible to know all.

Infinity—both desperate and exhilarating.

Then I return to life with my camera, listening and learning from people about what has already been thought. I make work to find answers, that have yet to exist.