Would you blindfold yourself to seek hope?
CUT LOVE
I have spent my life searching.
For love, for connection, for something I cannot define. In this search, I have been met with nothing but obscurity—each attempt revealing only fragments, leaving me scarred by the process. What I seek is always out of reach, and yet, I continue to move forward, blind to the outcome.
This project is about returning to the beginning.
The purest point before the search became a cycle of loss. It’s about the act of searching itself, in the dark, without clarity or certainty. There is no form, no finality—just the motion of reaching, of cutting through the unknown, and the inevitable pain that follows.
What remains is the act, repetitive and unresolved, as I shape something that may never be complete.
It’s not about finding, but about the process of seeking in a space where love and hurt are indistinguishable.
I have always been searching—searching for love, searching for something unnamed. Along this path, I have been torn apart, fragmented by reality. Love is always obscure, existing in an intangible form. I try to grasp it, yet I can only feel its edges, again and again, cut open by the sharpness of reality.
CUT LOVE is an act of returning—a retreat to the point of origin. A place where love has not yet taken shape, unformed by society, experience, or wounds. Yet even in this void, searching remains a blind pursuit.
In this performance, I sit at a table, blindfolded, with red paper and a pair of scissors before me. I cannot see the shapes I am cutting, nor can I control the precision of each cut. Love, in this state, is both created and destroyed. Each heart I cut is incomplete, distorted, unpredictable. Just like love in reality—it is never perfect, yet we continue to search for it, to define it, to imbue it with meaning.
Red symbolizes love, desire, blood. But as the paper is cut, this symbolism is fractured, scattered into fragments. These remnants are the remains of love, attempts at forming something whole—like past relationships, like memories that can never be pieced back together. I touch them, but I cannot restore them to their original form, just as love, once lost, can never return to its beginning.
This is not a work about “finding.” It is a work about “searching.”
In the darkness, I repeat this process—cutting, wounding, shaping incomplete hearts over and over again. They are symbols of love, but also proof of failure. In this performance, searching is futile, and pain is inevitable. Love, in its constant fragmentation and uncertainty, may never truly be defined.
CUT LOVE is not a finished work. It does not offer answers. It is an act, a state of ongoing existence. It is the echo of longing, confusion, struggle, and wounds. It is an endless attempt—cutting, touching, searching in the dark, until everything fades into silence.
Video: Shu / Rui
Photography: Rui
Set Design: Guanqiao / Rui
FIN.