My Mobile Clam Shack is not an exhibition that simply displays artworks one by one. Rather than searching for what each piece "represents," it is better to view the entire space as a temporarily operating aquaculture site: machinery, wind, sound, light and shadow, clam shells, and video intertwine and interfere with one another.

The exhibition utilizes many materials that aren't particularly "artistic": a Vespa, plastic crates, industrial air ducts, metal hardware, fans, lights, and common objects found in aquaculture and daily life. I didn't deliberately process them into refined sculptures, but preserved their original functions and traces of use as much as possible. To me, these materials are not the shells of an artwork, but components of a mobile, dismantlable, and reconfigurable system. Originally belonging to different everyday scenes, they are reconnected here to form a state suspended between the mechanical and the biological, the industrial and the intertidal zone.

The video is not merely an image playing on a wall. I deliberately let the light pass through various objects, structures, and spaces before reaching the viewer's eyes. Consequently, the image is no longer a fixed plane; it shifts with distance, angle, and viewing position. This unstable image corresponds to memory itself—the places we remember are never clear, unchanging photographs.

Therefore, when viewing this exhibition, there is no need to rush to understand everything. Step closer, walk around, pause. Listen to the sound of the wind and machinery, and observe how the images move within the space.

This exhibition is about movement, but perhaps what truly needs to be observed is how, after we move, we learn to coexist with a place once again.