If you want to know my method
I am someone who likes strange stories. Correspondingly, I also like things that are completely devoid of narrative. Memory finds its material embodiment in reality, linking to the most fragmented and yet most immaterial things in the mind—those shattered remnants from past times. I like writing and words, but I hate studying them. Digital are the most available form of non-material art, which is why I resist them to some extent. On another level, I use them with a kind of inverse understanding. Sounds and smells trigger memories as intensely as sight. I am fond of a strong wind encountered once while staying up all night until dawn, the cool-toned sunlight filtering through the curtains. This remembered scene gives these elements—the wind, the light, the feeling—an equally powerful status, making me feel as if I were back in the bedroom where I was born. In childhood, I wanted to be a detective. Now, I'm interested in the working methods of an archaeologist—like exploring the archives of a 300-year-old murder case, or my mother's last breath. Another interest stemming from that childhood dream is in traces; I regard them as phenomena of some complex context or something more mysterious. I enjoy investigating and sensing them, but sometimes I stop short, content with the phenomenon itself. I believe art is found in the fractures and interstices of all human actions. Or, put another way, it is the sum total of all actions. It depends on which language you speak. I like simple, repetitive actions. We can do them many times, say them many times.  I come from a world that is already lost and broken; it was small in scale. Later, I realized that other artists call this "collective memory". Another name for it is "local history," which itself implies division and fragmentation. I apply dialectical thinking to everything I possibly can, yet in my actions, I adopt an irreverent, either-or attitude towards it.
Video from the project "How to create northern lights in your bedroom"