‍Moonment is a post-Covid ongoing project that explores time, connection, and movement. I work with thin industrial aluminum sheets and use mechanical structures and digital code to control their motion. Aluminum is a very interesting material for me—it’s light, sharp, reflective, and has a kind of futuristic quality. When the sheet place in a certain way, it forms a shape almost like ocean waves. When wind or gravity acts on these metal waves, they start breath and move, the rigid material begins to look soft and fluid. In a way, an industrial material returns to something closer to nature. I often think of these moving surfaces as a kind of “sculpture of time.”

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The name Moonment comes from combining moon and movement. The moon is a simple but powerful symbol—no matter where you are in the world, people can look up and see the same moon at the same moment. There is a line from the Chinese poet Zhang Jiuling that has always stayed with me: “A bright moon rises above the sea; though far apart, we share this moment.” That idea of sharing the same moment across distance is central to the project.

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Each site-specific installation is like a point on a growing global map. I mark these places like small moons scattered around the world. The works appear in different coastal cities and spaces, separated geographically but connected conceptually. I’m interested in the idea that people in different places might encounter these moving metal waves and, in a quiet way, share a similar moment of perception.

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Sometimes people first see the work and think of it as a mechanical or engineering structure. But for me, the mechanism is the tool to let the material “breathe.” What matters more is the movement that happens between control and chance. Wind, air currents, or even the presence of viewers can create subtle shifts across the aluminum surface. Because of that, the work is never completely fixed—it’s always changing, always becoming, like time itself.