Wanxin Qu

Whispers of a woman once seen through the veil of memory—free, fragile, and fleeting. In the shimmer of mist and mesh, she emerges to be felt. Like a wish cast into a silent fountain, her presence stirs the unspoken—grief, desire, and the soft ache of becoming. This is not a place of answers, but of gentle echoes—where water remembers, and healing begins in translucent layers of forgetting and light.

Beneath this dreamy vision lies a deeper structure: the Castle—my imagined architecture of the inner self. Once a place to store memory and survive rupture, it now opens toward transformation. The fountain, situated at its heart, becomes a vessel for clarity, for breath. It is where I return to recover the sensation of being alive, where lightness flows after the weight of collapse. The transparent plastic mesh—the primary material shaping the work—reflects both fragility and strength, permeability and containment. Once used to restrict, it now holds space for release. Water, sound, and interaction move through it, just as emotions move through time: scattered, trembling, and alive. The fountain is no longer only a site of nostalgia—it is a portal. A soft declaration that healing is not forgetting, but arriving again, in a new form.