Haptic poetry, Process

Haptic poetry

Touch a tree. Feel the smoke he's been through, the battlefields he's seen, And the lines of bullets, Listen to cornered people endure, long lonely. He has soaked many a tear, The length of his life is like a long river, Engraved in the pattern of the annual rings.

Touch a tree. He never speaks, but knows my whole life, or a moment, Often in silence, stroke out of the raging bitter drops. He taught me to stop at the wave, Perched on solid rock, Not blinded by momentary incompetence, Instead of blaming yourself for your momentary helplessness, In a place of strife, still sober and brave.

Touch a tree, Even in the fog, He will always hold my hand firmly, Don't let me get lost in the past, Chasing the nascent dawn on the ground plane He drove away the insecurities of the heart He knows that every rain comes after a long drought, Understand why everything is up and down Although he is only a tree, he is my tree.

Haptic poetry, Final work- Vimeo link

Interview film https://vimeo.com/812415633 made this project by hand. The purpose is twofold. The first is to show my respect for mothers. Second, the real soft and hard touch is more likely to show off a pregnant woman's belly.

'Nin' is a word in Chinese. 'Nin' means the same as 'you', but 'Nin in Chinese is a word made up of 'you' and 'heart'. So the theme means thank you and I love you.

The belly is supposed to be soft and fragile, but with the arrival of new life, this area expands with stretch marks. Still, mothers wait with anticipation for the arrival of a new life. The pregnant belly hangs in front of mothers like an egg, heavy but expectant.