Once I finish recording these thoughts, I try to recall those women whom I have never had the chance to approach. Their stories remain unfulfilled… They are like fleeting shadows in this world, constantly waiting to be encountered. Their visions haunt me, and various possibilities compete with each other in my mind. But wherever I look, I see those “train” approaching, prepared for departure… Over bridges, reaching those distant destinations… Parting from those roads, signaling the approach of a moment of tranquility… Gradually moving forward, seeking to escape the fleeting moments of life… The energy that drives us forward… Leaping over those barriers… To connect the distances between things, it’s necessary to have small, empty spaces where the coldness of winter and the heat of summer can be absorbed… What we see as fixed and stable is actually something that can be perceived through these small gaps.The eyes of movement… Even if its commands are made of iron, they are still a series of calculated sequences, preceded by precise measurements. They can be found in deserts or in crowded cities at night. They are like rivers at nightfall, suns that seem to be approaching or fading away. They are lights that are both delicate and revealing… They are available, but it’s difficult to perceive them.