Rather to say that this poem depicts the shapes of love between the virtuality and reality, it’s better to say that it smears a status, just like the blurred line between water and sky. During the pandemic era of 2020, I was out of Seattle and heading back to Vancouver to stay with my grandma. One day, when I was walking beside a river during the dusk, I found the boundary between water and sky was vague that a few ducks were nearly swimming in the sky. I’m used to being a dazed person in ordinary life, and at that time, it becomes even harder for me to distinguish whether myself was standing in water or floating in the air. Trance, I heard a voice of a train - the sound became louder and louder that roared and galloped toward me at full speed. Did it have a rail? Did it travel on the cross-line between river and sky? What did it break? What did it destroy? And what did it rebuild? Would its roars transform into whispers and what kind of murmurs would it have? This scene was engraved on my brain till I began to organize this exhibition. Several children were suddenly singing around my ears and that train emerged again: with water, sky, and infinite colors, it flew into my chest and made me release this poem from a single breath.

Artist Background：

Ziqi Fu, born on September 15, 2000, is currently majoring in Comparative Literature and minoring in Drama-acting at the University of Washington. In the university, she once helped the UW collaborated with Shih Hsin University in Taiwan to hold the film festival - Resilient Vision 2020, acted as one of the editors of the school’s magazine WEGET, and had an internship of assistant reporter at CCTV13. She’s been one of the objects of the social documentary Look Love, and the second film is now under preparation. She enjoys writing poems and plays and the majority of works are in the stage of cumulation and refining.