Chen Wang
Walk through the city. Day in, day out. Share and cross the same places, the same spaces with the others. What goes on in them when they see me? What is their first thought? Where are you coming from? What do you want here?
Sharing the same spaces. Many years now. And yet, I always remain … different. In appearance, skin color and accent. A migrant. A perpetual tourist.
And so I sit there. I want to be without face, without color, without voice. Erase my outer self. Blur the boundaries of ethnicity, gender and culture. To be one? To forget myself?
