It was eight months ago I boarded the ‘Flying Hongkonger’, and we are not reaching the shore. I can’t remember how I got on the ship. It seems that I was already in this cabin when I woke up. The time here is chaotic. The bearing and heading are blurred. The only thing that keeps me awake is the writing of this Logbook.
Sometimes I can’t speak, pictures help me record; sometimes the image and memory betray me, the blank proves the existence of time.
2019.12.4
有人終於收到Z的平安消息。
我們處理了一批海邊的泥，我試著用陶土做了一個Alan的肖像。
Someone received Z's message.
We processed a batch of mud from the sea, and I tried to make a portrait of Alan using clay.
