A Journey to the Light Light scatters itself into my childlike heart, becomes a tree, a leaf and a dance. Light, to let the world see you, I have to unsee you first. They think you are the truth of life, and I bring the illusion of you back to this empty space. Theatre, when I look up at the ceiling, I perceive blue, pink and red as color. “Where are you coming from?” I ask the light designed by Carl. The illusion of you and my dance almost create an illusion of beauty that is too often misunderstood by humans. “Where is the source of light?” “Where is the source of inspiration?” Thoughts sit in the dark, but I have no answer for them. I want to constantly feel alive and I must constantly interact with questions. My body explodes as the collision between light and inspiration happens. I embody this experience, and I become the source of both light and inspiration. “Everything comes from my artsoul.” I am a child again. Now I see the relationship between men and light from a storytelling point of view. I ask myself: “who shall and will be the soul to enter my heart to interact with my movement at this empty space?” and “how will I make you understand me if talking is the least I’m good at?” Right before I arrive home, something prominent appears out of nowhere and it attracts my eyes immediately. I stop to look at it. This giant circlely light is so mysterious and so relatable to my personal journey of looking for light. “Where did it come from?” I turn around with the intention of finding its source. I suddenly get lost in the story (light) what Carl was designed for me. It was a dancing light that perceived by a dancing heart. Just like a kid that doesn't want to go home immediately after school, I begin a journey to find the source of light in front of a place where I am temporarily called home. I turn away from the circlely light and I see something even more intriguing. A silhouette of a tree, who has already found its place in this community. I follow the light, and I finally see it. Light lets the shape of building to recreate their story. They stand behind the building, and it points to me to another story. You were born from the silhouette of a tree,
and left your trace in between known and unknown.
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