Between Coordinates

On a hillside near 24°N, 102°E, a reinforced concrete pillar stands alone.
At its top, an orange is pierced and suspended by several ropes, facing the distance. From fresh green leaves to a shriveled black shell, we witnessed its slow transformation over time.
It has always gazed toward the sea.
And I live beside that sea.
Between Coordinates is a record of movement between places. As life carries me across different landscapes, it leaves traces behind and gives sound new forms.
I was born in Inner Mongolia. The wind of the Saihan Tala grasslands and the melodies passed down through my hometown still linger somewhere within me. Later, I moved to Yunnan, where I gradually learned to live among contradictions, misunderstandings, and moments of connection. The sounds of this place have shaped me as well, constantly colliding with my own.
For a long time, I lived in a room surrounded by noise. Some came through the walls. Some came from a kindergarten across the street, where the same children's songs were played day after day.
These sounds had no physical form, yet they occupied every corner of the space. Over time, they created a slow accumulation of helplessness and pressure. Eventually, I began to wonder whether I was listening to the sounds, or whether the sounds were reshaping me.
Later, I realized that instead of escaping them, I could reclaim them.
I began dismantling, distorting, and reconstructing the melodies that repeatedly intruded into my life. Sounds that once felt oppressive eventually became part of the work itself.
From grassland to plain, from plain to plateau, experiences gathered across different coordinates continue to settle and accumulate.