At Medienfrische, a new myth emerged through observation, collection, and ritual. Moving between the village church, mountain forest, and crumbling walls, the project explored how belief and folklore take shape when humans live with the force of nature. In the Bschlab Valley, where stone, pine, and water act more powerfully than human hands, a temporary temple arose from what was found: pinecones interlocked like scales, river clay binding fragments, plastic sheets whispering as wind-installations before turning into costume. Villagers’ donated objects, fallen branches, and abandoned materials fused into a sculpture that remained in flux—half-natural and half-made, neither ruin nor monument but something in between.

The temple stood as a window on a ruin, framing the site’s fragility while opening onto new visions. By day, it echoed the valley’s material cycles of erosion and repair; by night, it shifted into an audiovisual installation, projecting collected images and field recordings back into the landscape. This double life—as ruin by day and portal by night—embodied the valley’s thresholds between material and spectral, human and elemental. The structure never claimed permanence; instead it existed as a transitional body, eroded and reanimated in rhythm with the valley itself.

The wearable sculpture extended this entanglement of materials into the body. Built from moss, branches, and wood interwoven with discarded plastic, 3D-printing waste, mesh fabric, duct tape, and cloth, it became a hybrid skin. Transformed into a headpiece, moss beard, and body covering, the costume turned the artist into a forest god figure—part insect, part motorcyclist—embodying two radically different modes of temporary presence in the valley. The insect belongs to the forest's cycles, a legitimate inhabitant; the motorcyclist (the BMW riders whose engines shatter the valley's quiet, treating nature as a test track for expensive machines) extracts experience without participation. As a migrant artist occupying my own transient position in this landscape, I refused to resolve these contradictions. The costume held them in tension: temporary but attentive, foreign but listening, neither fully belonging nor merely passing through.

Resisting binaries of nature and culture, permanence and ruin, belonging and displacement, the project unfolded as a dialogue with material agency. It expands a practice rooted in migration and ritual into ecological myth-making, where gods are not remembered but encountered.


在 Medienfrische（奧地利藝術節），一個全新的神話從觀察、採集與儀式中浮現。計畫在村落教堂、山林與殘垣之間移動，探索當人類與自然之力共居時，信仰與民俗如何成形。

在 Bschlab 山谷裡，石頭、松樹與流水的力量遠超過人手所能及。一座臨時的廟宇從手邊就地撿拾的材料中長出：松果如鱗片般交扣，河泥黏合著碎片，塑膠薄片在轉化為服裝之前，先作為風的裝置在空間中低聲細語。村民捐贈的私人物件、倒下的樹枝與被遺棄的材料，融合成一件持續變動、處於過渡狀態的雕塑——它半自然半人造，既非廢墟亦非紀念碑，而是介於兩者之間的某種邊界存在。

這座廟宇立於廢墟之上如一扇窗，框住場域的脆弱，同時開向新的視野。白日，它回應著山谷侵蝕與修復的物質循環；入夜，它轉化為視聽裝置，將採集的影像與田野錄音重新投射回地景之中。這種雙重生命——白日的廢墟與夜晚的門戶——體現了山谷在物質與幽靈、人類與元素之間的臨界臨界點。這個結構從不宣示其永恆性；它以一種過渡性的身體存在，順應著山谷本身的節奏被侵蝕、被重新喚醒。

穿戴式雕塑將這種物質的糾結纏繞延伸至肉身。苔蘚、樹枝與木材，交織著廢棄塑膠、3D列印廢料、網眼布料與膠帶，成為一層混種皮膚。透過頭飾、苔蘚鬍鬚與身體覆蓋物，這套服裝將藝術家轉化為一個森林神祇般的形象——它半昆蟲、半重機騎士，體現了兩種截然不同的臨時存在方式。昆蟲屬於森林的循環，是土地合法的居民；而重機騎士（那些用引擎聲劃破山谷寧靜的 BMW 騎士）僅是在此榨取、消費體驗而不參與。

作為一名移民藝術家，在這個地景中佔據著同樣短暫的過渡位置，我拒絕輕易消解這些矛盾。服裝將這些衝突懸置於張力之中：臨時但專注，異鄉但傾聽，既不完全歸屬，也不僅僅是路過。

抵抗自然與文化、永久與廢墟、歸屬與流離的二元對立，計畫展開為一場與「材料能動性（Material Agency）」的對話——將根植於遷移與儀式的實踐，擴展為一場生態神話的編造。

在這裡，神明不被記憶，而是被相遇。

1
I wandered through the forest
and saw shrine in every form
– house for Jesus, arranged stones,
and where wind had laid pinecones.
Shaped by hands, wind, gravity and decay
I begin to wonder:

Is this shrine a creation,
dreams set in stone
or a coincidence

2
In this forest,
creating a shrine takes very little effort.

A hollow beneath tree root
is enough to shield a sacred thing.

Pinecones and stones become offerings.

What is more sacred than a seed?

3
A goddess stands inthe forest.
A tree stump, curved like a women

Around her, other stumps
form a silent circle –
the guards, sisters, witnesses

The forest chose her shape,
we chose her story.

4
The cut trees became offering tables,
They held pinecones, fallen stones.

Rain soaked the wounds,
then moss arrived – followed by fungi.

What’s cut becomes cradle,
death folding gently into new life.

5
He came with thunder.
The trees shivered before he appeared.

Wrapped in black armor,
chrome bones, leather skin –
a beetle made from fuel and noise.

He left no offering.
Only the echo of rupture.

6
A window, crooked like a question.
Beneath it, red text washed out by rain.
blessing once painted for a new home.
the words faded, the story lingers.

A temple is a space
that holds what we hope for.
Like the abandoned mining cave.
Not for prayer, but for the shimmer of a future.

My temple holds nothing, but air and wishes.

1

我漫步穿過森林 看見各種形式的祠堂——
耶穌的居所、疊放的石頭， 以及風安放松果之處。

由人手、風、引力與消逝所形塑 我開始思考：

這座祠堂究竟是一場創造， 凝固在石頭裡的夢境 還是一場巧合

2

在這座森林裡， 創造一座廟宇幾乎毫不費力。

樹根下的一處中空 就足以庇護神聖之物。

松果與石頭成為供品。

有什麼比一顆種子更神聖？

3

一位女神立於森林之中。 一截樹樁，如女子般曼妙地彎曲。

在她周圍，其他樹樁 圍成一個沉默的圓圈—— 那些守衛、姐妹與見證者。

森林選擇了她的形狀， 我們選擇了她的故事。

4

被砍伐的樹木成了供桌， 它們承載著松果與落石。

雨水浸透了傷口， 接著苔蘚到來——隨後是真菌。

被砍伐的成了搖籃， 死亡溫柔地摺疊進新生。

5

他帶著雷鳴而來。 在他出現之前，樹木已在戰慄。

包裹在黑色盔甲中， 鉻製的骨骼，皮革般的皮膚—— 一隻由燃油與喧囂製成的甲蟲。

他沒有留下供品。 只留下破裂的餘音。

6

一扇窗，歪斜如一個問句。

在它之下，紅色的字跡被雨水沖刷。 那曾是為新家塗抹的祝福。

字跡已褪，故事留存。

廟宇是一個空間 容納著我們所盼望的事物。

如同那座被廢棄的礦坑。

不為祈禱，只為那道未來的微光。

我的廟宇空無一物，除了空氣與願望。