In Theresa Hak Kyung Cha’s archive I find one outtake of her laughing. The violence of being outside this world, the ecstasy of making another. 짤라 NECESSAIRE. I don’t have a radio but this station keeps playing and I listen for her. As the pandemic begins to spread, I receive the I Ching Hexagram 44: 1 broken yin line beneath 5 solid yang lines. Beneath Heaven, Wind. The principle of darkness, after having been eliminated, furtively and unexpectedly obtrudes again from within and below. Of its own accord the female principle comes to meet the male. It is an unfavorable and dangerous situation. The maiden is powerful. One should not marry such a maiden.

CELLULAR HEAVEN EVANESCENCE. Some mornings I meet Cha in a cinema. We take turns showing each other parts of the film and she leaves words for me on the marquee outside. Hanna Hur as Character #2 recites this dictation and her voice lapses in 16mm, leaves the frame, UNDER STITIAL, SONIC SANS, traveling to remember Character #1 somewhere we can’t see. The non-linear scenes of TETRAPHOBIA are arranged in an unfolded cube, every face it’s own time, one corner reaching for the next dimension. Opening this black box in a white cube, White Dust From Mongolia continues to unfurl. Dis-oriented, our multiple vanishing points shred the singular perspective of a humanity that would not have us. CHIMERA 같이 가.