"Nostalgically, the slow rhythm of reflective time made possible the dream of freedom ... Nostalgia is not merely an expression of local longing, but a result of a new understanding of time and space."
——The Future of Nostalgia, Svetlana Boym.
I see dioramas as containers of my fears and anxiety. Hiding inside, I'm able to look at my neighborhood from a different angle.
After being away from home for several years, I finally go back home to stay with my family for a few months. Due to the pandemic, I was not allowed to leave the neighborhood and oppositely obtained plenty of time to walk around the community and the back hill; time passed slowly during this period, and as such it blurred the boundary between reality and my nostalgic feeling.
As the project developed, I regained childhood memories and seed a new interpretation of them to cultivate deeper feelings.
I walked through the spots and observed things I used to be scared of when I was a kid and those I'm still afraid of, intended to explore the space I used to be familiar with. Containers here function as protective shells, holding my nostalgic fears and giving me a space to think.
Overall I made two type of creatures and see them as restricted forms of myself. The first type is the childhood version of me, which are Sculpey dolls surrounded by darkness and trapped in a state of fear and unease.
My childhood fear of the space mainly came from two elements.
- Light and Shadow
Due to the tropical climate, corridors of the buildings in this area are not enclosed spaces but open with numerous holes on the walls. During the nighttime, lights from the hallway refract shadow and project on the outdoor ground. It overlaps with the shades of trees and envelopes me.
-The Basement
The valley I live has very heavy precipitations, hence the management office opened a basement for children to play indoor when it rains. Yet, due to the humid air and lack of maintenance, the lights soon broke down, and mildew spots began to appear on the walls. When I was a kid, my mother always told me there were scary mold monsters living inside the basement.
But what really intensified my fear was the accident that happened there. A kid fell off from the swing and hit his head. When I headed to the basement, he had already been sent to the hospital, but a large stain of blood was still there, freaking me out and caused me nightmares.
The intermittent memories brought out the second form of me is a creature wriggling behind a mask; this is the current me. The anxiety initiated from reality prompted me to put on a mask.
Mask kept me safe and reduced my fear of the basement. As for now, when I stand there alone, I permanently feel inexplicably depressed by seeing the light flashing on the moldy wall. Something eerie might hide inside the dark. But now I have a mask; I become one of those “something”.
-The Hill Behind My Home and the Abandoned Figurine of Guanyin （观音）
This is the place I scare of now. Guanyin is a gender-neutral Buddhist symbol. He or she associates with compassion and is known as the god or goddess of mercy.
Few people tread to the hill behind my house as there is no street light and always covered under the shadow of gigantic trees. However, I enjoy walking there, away from neighbors and noises. Its damp and dark environment makes me feel as if walking in dreams.
One day (a few weeks ago), a figurine of the Guanyin appeared on a bench on backhill and it stays there until now. It was like an uninvited guest who suddenly broke into my world.
According to Chinese tradition, a Buddha statue cannot be abandoned at will; it’s extremely disrespectful to the Buddha and will bring disaster to the whole family. If the statue was not purposely abandoned, then it was highly possible that there were unclean spirits arise this area, thus a Guanyin is required for exorcism. No matter which guess was right, it made me feel very uneasy, even afraid.
It derived me nervous because, psychologically, back hill is not safe anymore.
