Container, Contaminated

Collage advance contingently, never inevitably. The shapes meander and overlap with each other, creating anti-forms.

A flag’s fluttering white cloth—multiple long strands hanging from a single pole. The strands guide ships in different directions, each strand pulling toward its own course. They remain bound together in one line.

This binding creates both bondage and solidarity. When elements generate a narrative, they produce it contingently, gathering many components by chance. These elements become bound to the narrative through their placement in that space—like individual units in a mosaic. Yet a mosaic unit arrives at its position through chance, not necessity. Each piece can migrate elsewhere. Migration becomes translation. When a piece relocates, it acquires a new name.

Traces of scattered forms resonate with trembling marks. Out-focused.

Breath holds. The body decomposes piece by piece. In the upper right corner, a wing feather appears—or perhaps a fin—suggesting the form once flew or swam, or both. When it touches ground, that movement vanishes like melting snow.

Precise visual fixation fails—when the shutter confronts disappearance, it cannot match the speed of trembling hands facing eternal interruption. When the lens confronts fragmentation, it cannot look directly forward until it blurs everything everywhere, finding nowhere to rest its gaze. Yet no sadness exists here, because this represents merely one process of undergoing transformation.