Even after four months in the Netherlands, I still understand only about half of conversations. When an unfamiliar word appears, its new sound fills my head completely. This work rethinks and accepts my current ability, which often feels negative. I see it instead as a fragile and temporary sense that exists only at this moment in my life.
Words I couldn’t catch in daily conversations with my friends are knitted and placed on the furniture in my home. As I live with these fabrics, the yarn slowly unravels. Knitting has no knots, and it can always return to a single thread. Through this process, the words gradually become part of me and part of my home. The yarn is inspired by materials familiar in my home, such as towel, and mirror, so that it can truly become part of my place.
Knitting is also completely new to me, just like English. The process of forming a surface by building up loop after loop feels like getting a lot of English words everyday. The many mistakes in the knitting reflect my current situation, learning English from friends who also speak it imperfectly.