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Out of Reach / 手触不到的地方
It is an ongoing visual letter to my ‘hometown’.
As someone who was born in Hong Kong but reared on the mainland, this uncertainty over culture, identity, and dialect seems to be a subject that I have been trying to avoid facing. While returning to the street where I was born after twenty-one years, I tried to connect my past and present through photography.
香港的街道是真空的。
The districts in Hong Kong are vacuous to me, which is devoid of matter.
于是我像一条尴尬的，游走于各壁之间的鱼，近乎无知地吐着泡泡，与他者并不相通。
I was turning like a fish stumbling from pillar to post, spouting bubbles in near-ignorance, and never connecting the dots.
The districts in Hong Kong are vacuous to me, which is devoid of matter.
于是我像一条尴尬的，游走于各壁之间的鱼，近乎无知地吐着泡泡，与他者并不相通。
I was turning like a fish stumbling from pillar to post, spouting bubbles in near-ignorance, and never connecting the dots.
我努力地抚摸榕树，想记住它的触感和温度。
I gently stroked the banyan trees, trying to bear its softness and warmth in mind.
比我的生长年月要长得多的榕树，它又见证了这片土地上的多少事呢。
How much more have they been witnessed on this land than me?
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这里好小，觉得在哪儿好像都靠着海。
It is such a small place which feels like everywhere is by the sea.
在温暖的海风中，在无尽的等待里，我大多时候只想逃到没有人的尽头。
In the warm sea breeze, in the endless waiting; I mostly just want to escape to the end where no one is.
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就这样依托着影像的抒写，度过了在“家乡“的这十天。
——To my ten days at ‘home’——
18 - 28 December, 2022.
...and to be continued.
I gently stroked the banyan trees, trying to bear its softness and warmth in mind.
比我的生长年月要长得多的榕树，它又见证了这片土地上的多少事呢。
How much more have they been witnessed on this land than me?
这里好小，觉得在哪儿好像都靠着海。
It is such a small place which feels like everywhere is by the sea.
在温暖的海风中，在无尽的等待里，我大多时候只想逃到没有人的尽头。
In the warm sea breeze, in the endless waiting; I mostly just want to escape to the end where no one is.
就这样依托着影像的抒写，度过了在“家乡“的这十天。
——To my ten days at ‘home’——
18 - 28 December, 2022.
...and to be continued.
©2024 Manyi Chan