How to describe this feeling?
People told me this is diasporic.

But every time I tried to use this word to explain my photographs, I always got the same question: “from where I can see your homeland?”

I want to talk about it differently.
I see diaspora as a merging part of me, instead of a defined identity under group narrations.

And I project this part of me onto things I encounter.
The camera shutter bites connection of me with the peripheral world, by which I ruminate on my existence. My encapsulated emotions collapsed into sensations, then I started to see.

These images are my symptoms. They are whispering to my solitude, whirling in between alienation and normality—the displaced, ambiguous, and restrained. They channel into a space, which is so closed and private that any definition is redundant.

Here, I speak to every strayed heart.