生活说不明书 / An Unclear Manual for Life

The Context
As the pandemic slowed the passage of time, both the external world and my internal state grew quiet. I began to observe my surroundings with a renewed gaze, focusing on the microscopic details of living. I paid attention to the shopping lists written before leaving the house, the specific items on a supermarket receipt, the cashier’s name printed at the top, and sometimes, the domestic violence helpline numbers printed at the bottom.

The Process
Instead of discarding packaging or crumbling receipts, I began to collect them. Starting in January 2021, I consciously preserved these traces: bills, labels, tags, and ticket stubs. What began as simple documentation in small notebooks evolved into freeform collage in larger volumes. Over four years, this practice grew into a seven-volume archive.

The Meaning
These papers are cold data, yet they hide the warmth of lived truth. They document our negotiation with the material world—what we bought, where we went, what we consumed. Hidden within are the secret details of a life: the day the toothpaste ran out, a sudden craving for specific fruit, an object bought for a loved one.

The Concept

To look closely at these pages is to read a visual poem or decode a riddle. We emerge from our inner selves to touch the world, and are stained by it in return. Yet, this code is ultimately unbreakable. It reveals fragments, but never the whole. It is an attempt at an everyday narrative—a user’s manual for life that explains everything and nothing.