A large tightly framed image of the artist’s throat is floating in front of the wall of a small tea house. Breathing, a once sensuous and tempting gesture can become agonizing and painful at life’s end. Nine transparent cicadas shimmer and spiral outward from the circle window while a lotus is suspended above the viewer. Similar to cicadas, lotuses grow in the mud and rise to bloom, symbolizing the human capacity to rise above the world’s impurities. The sound of the cicadas that overlaps with me whispering “Come back to me,” in both English and Japanese, expresses my desire for the understanding of the truth of loss.
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