“Hyperplasia” is life’s most primitive instinct—and also the beginning of runaway control.

 

This artwork presents a pure-white floating form: spherical nodules that resemble cellular division and abnormal tissue overgrowth, interwoven with tangled, indistinct threads. These lines are like the blood vessels and nerves in our bodies that cannot be controlled, or like mutated chains of genes, constantly spreading outward within a confined space.

 

Hyperplasia is, at first, the mechanism by which the body repairs itself. But once it slips out of control, it turns into pressure, burden, and even a self-consuming shackle. We yearn to break free from the limits of the body, yet the flesh is often the greatest prison. The work examines this very contradiction: in our pursuit of growth and freedom, are we also creating another kind of irreversible bondage?

 

These nodules are not only metaphors for organ malfunctions, but also for a mode of existence. In this world of excessive expansion, each of us carries our own “Hyperplasia,” suspended heavily between fragility and stubborn resilience.

 

This suspended state is absolutely not lightness or ease. It is a suffocating feeling, as if being dragged downward by one’s own weight. Every inch of excessive growth is a ruthless tear at the fragile support points. We do not rise—we are insteading in midair by our own continuously enlarging flesh. We want to fall, but fine threads bind us tightly; we want to break free, yet we are immobilized by the pull of our own weight.