'Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth.'
T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land is a prophetic patchwork of literary, cultural, and religious allusions, united in establishing a landscape of loss. Civilisation is presented as saturated but infertile, inundated in authorities and absolutes, barren of autonomy.
Perhaps we have become unwitting participants in this image, set to traverse an endless no man’s land of pre-trodden earth carved by the undulations of obligation. There is no wild in this wilderness, no space to seek and cultivate for our own. Everything is irrigated by prescribed meanings; nothing is unaccounted for, and the trajectory of our lives have become narrow and predetermined. We duly follow, numbed and confused.
The Fading Spaciousness looks at the infinite possibilities of self-exploration. Through research into Positive Nihilism philosophy, Death of Proximity and Art Intervention, experiments with image and poetry, this project is a poetic expression of the reasons for the fade of spaciousness, such as established meanings, restricted paths, and fragmented overloaded information, and the struggle against this.
The film express a process of searching and struggling to break free. Through experiencing the work the audience is invited to empathize and think critically about the spiritual plight of people nowadays, to call for the hope of recovery, and to broaden new perspectives for the search for the meaning of life.
Flowing into a chaotic spaciousness
Faint candle flames cram into the night
Lit on the last long river of fading
My spaciousness is blank
They say, desire is absent
They say, significance is on this side
Insignificance is on the other side of the narration
Mist is heavy, falling from the sky
Sound of sea has dropped into the deep abyss
Ruins collapse and bricks are piled
The spaciousness is fragmented and drifts with abandon
So I dare not wade lethargically to the edge of the cliff
Cutting through the wilderness night after night
The wild cry of joy
Making me sleep in peace
They say, consciousness rustles
Flowing thoughts turn into overlapping delirium
I retreat from the footprints I have made
A fleeting, eternal vision emerges