Since May of 2013, everyday, after I have read and digested a daily newspaper, I moulded it into a brick. If I could not finish it on that day, then it would be skipped.
A newspaper concretely records the daily information of a city, but also unilaterally. Its expiry date is frailly only "today". Within the process, day-by-day, all the memories, contents, value, meaning... had been washed as if they had never existed. What has it deconstructed? And what has it built? The only thing that can be seen, is the marks of living.
(The text is provided by the student)