When farming, time is the cost of not weeding and spraying pesticides. We always squat down to weed the farm, silently pulling the endlessly spreading weeds, talking to each other sporadically and casually. We thought what we could hear in nature is the melody from heaven. Yes, birds are singing; yet, the neighboring woman farmer always imitates bird chirping to scare birds away.

Not far away from the farmland, there is a farmhouse resort. People can enjoy the rural life with the offered facilities, including an organic strawberry garden, a DIY farm, barbeque facilities, and a karaoke set. In the fields, one may constantly hear pop songs from different generations. Then, when will the songs of my time be played? Those songs that are particular to me. (You’d better turn down the volume. Only you and your peers could tolerate the lyrics of those songs. )

Around ten years ago, the wilderness was reclaimed and turned into farmland that was far from orderly.

Crack, crack, crack. It is said to be the sound when a cell wall bursts in the root. If you pay close attention to the ground, you may hear the cracking sound, even if the sound is so subtle.

We are curious and puzzled by the silence of plants, and we finally take it for granted and neglect plants around us.


You tried to be neutral. Let everything place their bet inconspicuously but waking the microorganisms in the air unintentionally and in rhythm of your breath, driving them to collide and merge, or to break up and disperse.
I don’t like gambling, but after a few rounds, no one could escape to put their faith in luck like a gambler.
“Cold Fire, Single Channel Video, 2019-2020, Lo Lai Lai Natalie”

In the life practice partly engaging in farming, one explores nature for more clues. The empowerment of agriculture on humankind allows drastic changes to occur in the course of silent and repetitive practices. The hidden interlocking effects are murmuring subtly in those seemingly tranquil and peaceful landscapes.

The artist takes fermentation as a metaphor. The unknown, dangerous, changeable and exciting microorganism implies the relationship between substances, people, and space. People, environment, society, and the bottle which contains fermented substances coexist in the same turbulence and uncertainty, while each part intervenes and affects others, constantly switching individual identities in the flow.

Taking nature as a support, one lets their thought wander in the rhythm of the environment in the process of non-verbal communication. One’s consciousness flows in the farmland, becoming the observer and the observed and narrating from the two standpoints. The practice of life becomes the extended site of imagination, and the boundary of subjective consciousness is therefore indistinguishable.

One secretly wonders among the intricate roots buried in the ground covered by fine gravel. With the juxtaposition of scenery and humankind, one speculates on the silent object and then reveals the long-suppressed yet sprouting desire and obsession.