Nomadic Play: Walking in Cosmos, Walking with Cosmos

2024~present

Call Me on Saturday Night(2026)

Small easel, bubble wrap, screws, hair accessories, doorknob, ashuttlecock, lace, fur, yarn.
Variable Dimensions

The Science of Sleep(2026)
Fortunately, I can read your mind.
Unfortunately, I can read your mind.
Fortunately, I can’t read your mind.
Unfortunately, I can’t read your mind.

Mask collected during a cleanup my time as a teaching assistant (TA), flexible tube toys, hair accessories, yarn, etc.
Variable Dimensions
Can be adjusted by rotating the ears
The distance between two people can be adjusted by the flexible tube toys

Unnamed Symptom(2026)

Breathing in rubber gloves on January 14, 2026; cold medicine package; traffic cone; children’s accessories; fur; badminton shuttlecock; stickers, etc.
500mm*350mm*500mm

Love Bugs Hat(2026)

I bite you, you bite me, the love bites us.

Bug catcher, yarn crochet, cable ties, beads, rabbit toy, fabric, etc.
Can be used by two people together, or be closed for easy carrying
250mm*250mm*250mm

Kill Me with Tenderness(2025)

Toy gun, crocheted yarn, stickers, Christmas decorations.
165mm*225mm
A piece created during a short-term workshop. In this activity, I went to Daiso with the participants to select items that attracted them, and then re-created the objects based on their stories about the objects.

Universe Exploration Balance Training Hat(2025)

Fruit basket, bicycle bell, badminton shuttlecock, soccer equipment, cable ties, balance toys, balloons, yarn, stickers, Christmas decorations.etc.
200mm*200mm*400mm
A piece created during a short-term workshop. In this activity, I went to Daiso with the participants to select items that attracted them, and then re-created the objects based on their stories about the objects.

Love Jump(2025)

Jump rope, crochet work, beading, bells, cable ties

270 cm

If you feel sad, I will take you and jump together toward the sky, escaping the Earth and traveling to the tribes of the Neptunians. With a small velvet pouch, beneath a rain of diamonds, I will catch just one beautiful diamond for you—without greed. Holding your hand, making a ring that matches your discerning yet elegant taste. Then, we will never go back.

爱的跳跃：如果你感到难过，我就带你跳向天空，逃离地球，去往海王星人的部落。我用小小的天鹅绒的口袋，在钻石雨下，并不贪心地为你接住其中一颗，牵起你的手，为你做一枚符合你刁钻挑剔却优雅品味的戒指，然后，我们就不再回去了。

Walking with the Earth (2025)

Discarded globe, crochet yarn, wheels, beads
300mm*300mm*450mm

If my origin lies in the whole earth, or even the universe, then maybe I have never truly left home.
Walking on the Earth and walking with the Earth.

For Chrismas

Original

My Little Donkey 303

Folding clothes drying rack, wrapping paper, cable tie, wig,
thread weaving, sesaonal flowers, dishcloth, rattle, cat teaser etc.
1250mm*450mm*800mm(Variable Dimensions)

Self-weaving

Clothes hangers, plastic tube toys, wheels, yarn weaving, wigs, shuttlecocks, screws, blanket etc.
1700mm*480mm*20mm

Flute Party

（It requires four people to kneel on the ground, gather together, and play the flute while moving around）

Toy flute, movable plant stand, shuttlecock, hair band, wool yarn.
280mm*280mm*280mm

Untitled(2025)

-Foldable clothes rack, shuttlecock, cable ties, snap buttons, bells, crochet with yarn
-500mm*500mm*2000mm(Variable Dimensions)

Nomadic Play: Walking in the Cosmos, Walking with Cosmos

00

Walking in the Cosmos: If we regard the entire universe as our origin, perhaps we have never left home.
Walking with the Cosmos: The universe itself is in constant flux, migration, and nomadism—we are not alone, but moving and creating alongside the cosmos.

01

Nomadic Play: Walking in the Cosmos, Walking with Cosmos is a work that transforms everyday experiences of relocation into a "nomadic game." In this practice: I treat migration and displacement as an ongoing nomadic game, regarding the entire universe as both home and playground—as the moving helper once told me during a snowstorm: "This isn't a move, it's an adventure." I view limitations and scarcity as the rules of the game, much like the Chinese word "危机" (crisis), which inherently contains both "危" (danger) and "机" (opportunity).

This work originates from my frequent relocations and school transfers during childhood and while living abroad. The moment a lease is signed, the temporariness of the space seems already predetermined—subconsciously, I know this is not my home. A certain unease has always accompanied me, yet I try to shift my focus from the security a place provides, from nostalgia for the past and anxiety about the future, to actions in the here and now and to everyday objects. In a previous apartment, I noticed Hello Kitty stickers left by the former tenant on the toilet lid, and tiny stickers quietly proliferating like mold in the corners of the shoe cabinet, seemingly attempting to mark territory and leave evidence of their existence. As children, we rarely have a say in where we live or when we move; parents make the rules and strategies, while we, as Michel de Certeau suggests, develop our own "tactics" through small acts of resistance under these rules (to some extent, I believe the relationship between tenants and houses, artists and exhibition spaces, parallels this dynamic).

I adopted a nomadic, site-responsive creative method, defining my radius of action by what can be reached on foot, using only materials available locally in the moment for improvisational assemblage and transformation. I try not to predetermine the final form of the work or control its development, but rather let it grow freely, allowing my body and hands to follow the lead of objects and materials, constantly reflecting on the rigid subject-object relationship between humans and things. In fact, many times I feel it is not I who chose these objects, but rather they who summoned me to respond. These materials mostly come from the streets, large chain stores like Daiso, local online secondhand platforms, and hidden vintage shops tucked in corners—the unexpected discoveries in these places actually excite me more than completing the work itself. Some of these objects reflect current trends and local aesthetic preferences; others come from the past, carrying unknown histories of their previous owners. Their trajectories intersect with mine, meeting in this very moment.

In this process, limitation and scarcity are no longer obstacles but become the rules of the game. Whether it's spatial accessibility or the finitude and repetition of materials, these constraints liberate me from the dizziness of excessive freedom, forming a concrete and tangible freedom. This practice is also an exercise in Stoic dichotomy of control, a practice of adaptation and surrender, and gratitude and delight in the accidental and the encountered (whether with objects or people). In reality, items acquired by chance may later be sold out or discontinued; seemingly useless things may find their place at some future moment, or perhaps never will; beloved objects held dear may be lost or broken—yet at some divine timing, find their replacement. In my heart, I often recite the Serenity Prayer, which seems to have become the cheat code for this game:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.

—Reinhold Niebuhr

Finally, "nomadic play" is both game (play) and performance (play) and ritual. While working on this series, I have been contemplating the connections between game, ritual, art, and everyday life—how games and performances that emerge from daily life, and the act of creation itself, in turn reshape the reality of everyday life.

02

Danger and Opportunity, Destruction and Creation:
Frequent moves, school changes, and farewells during childhood; fire alarm sounds breaking the silence of solitary nights; and the collective trauma brought by the pandemic—whether personal or collective, a certain sense of crisis and unease has accompanied me, and ironically, unease itself has gradually become a settled daily state, part of my acquired nature. In my body, a certain secret nostalgia for disaster (Lachesism) coexists with an irrepressible desire to rebuild after catastrophe—just as in the final scene of Melancholia, before the "rogue planet" crashes into Earth, the protagonists build a shelter with branches for the child and call it the "magic cave." Even in such a moment, it seems people still try to create something. And in my ears, no matter when or where, the phrase "even so" seems to linger perpetually.

Some drawings about traveling around the world/universe (7 years old)