They are so different, Tone and Kuang. Initially I think only of this. That it is a good thing that they are opposites. That they face each other independently. I mix up work and person. Then it becomes impossible to adhere to the opposite notion. They elide through their material. Something here is the “same”. It’s the path to here that separates them.
One of them is concerned with thoughts, the other with feelings. No. But the classifications separate them. What one reaches first, as an observer.
A man and a woman. (Is that important?) One is from Taiwan, one from Sweden. The difference in moving along the street among bodies and gazes. And to show their art in a room that is a sluice, a screen, an exception.
One of them interested in a certain type of equilibrism. The other of a vulnerability. But this vulnerability applies to both of them. Glass as a speech balloon. (Thus riveted into the imagination).
Glass as a balancing act. (My concern for the material. It is the same glass that one drinks from, the window that one looks out through, looks at oneself in the mirror, caresses one’s smartphone. No one uses the term “oil paint” as a mantra.)
How does one give form to feelings? By physically shaping them. As a tutor in creative writing I talk about this all the time. Ultimately I have no idea what this means. What is the opposite to this? Articulation? Blablabla. But ultimately everything merges into shape. Even if only as shadows.