Yen Chun Lin & Gediminas Žygus: Hold the Blue Wind with Open Palms
Falling into a tunnel — the wind brings us here. The wind that touches the ocean’s surface, lands, leaves, and hair. Sometimes, one can hear it; sometimes, one can only feel its shy touch. It preserves memories by hiding rhythms in its noise. Layers, loops, and rhymes of the past, present, and future can be unpeeled and heard.
Here, a realm slowly wakes up from a long hibernation. Sounds emerge from dust, from plants drawn on the walls, from birds carved on the balcony, and from clouds printed on the windows.
The wind that carries time and memories sings between our palms as we hold each other’s hand.
In this shelter, without time, the wind, and dreams can escape from becoming fictions of the future and history. As we long for shelter from the wind, the wind also needs a refuge – to let it go from our embrace.