Multipurpose Ghost

I wonder if the new is not something that arrives suddenly, but rather a space of fusion where the familiar and unfamiliar slowly seep into one another, approaching us through ambiguity.

Multipurpose Ghost grows from objects that once existed temporarily as thin membranes within spaces of “in-between”—masks, glassine paper, straws, insulation, packing tape, and transparent film. Through repetitive acts of cutting, melting, and weaving, these disposable materials begin to form fluid relationships with one another and with me.

The dismantled objects become pixels or building blocks, first forming surfaces and then expanding into space. A cloud-like structure made of melted straws connects and suspends other materials in the air, providing them with both structure and freedom. Between the unfamiliar light of the projector and the familiar light of the sun, the objects reveal shifting and layered appearances. They return to me as responses, and eventually, as a space of their own.

Through repeated processes of dismantling and reconstruction, the structures and forms of these objects seep into one another, creating an absurd structure within the familiar.

For me, the mask had long been a familiar yet uncomfortable object of concealment, even before COVID-19. At some point, however, it became strange. Learning that its thin layers could simultaneously block harmful matter while allowing breath to pass led me to wonder: perhaps a thin membrane, a boundary, is not simply a dividing line, but a space where multiple movements occur at once.

Rather than remaining a passage we simply move through, or a membrane we barely notice, this “in-between” becomes a complex and ambiguous space. Like a ghost—neither fully present nor absent—I hope the work approaches the viewer slowly and subtly, emerging through a quiet, comfortable rhythm.