La Vie rêvée des anges Was Closed That Day

2026.

It began with fragments of writing.

At first, we wondered whether they could be translated into images. Later, we realized that the words and images did not have to correspond to one another. They simply pointed us in a direction.

So one night, we walked into Shezi Island. We had no destination in mind, nor were we trying to piece together a complete narrative. We simply walked and filmed, gathering the light, sounds, conversations, pauses, and those moments that had already passed before we could find names for them.

It was near the end of summer, during some of the last days I would wander around with a camera before leaving Taipei.

Perhaps it was only then that I began to realize that recording something and holding on to it are not the same thing.

The words never became captions for the images, nor did the images try to explain the words. They unfolded on their own, sometimes drawing close, sometimes drifting apart. Like that night, we didn’t know what would remain in the end. We were simply still here, for a little while.

Perhaps this is only an exercise.

An exercise in looking, and in letting go of control.

An exercise, too, in taking one last good look before leaving.