for the past (to continue)

để quá khứ sẽ (tiếp diễn) (loosely translated: for the past will (continue)) delves into the layered intersections of memory, language, and urban landscapes. Through an autogenerated poetry mechanism, shadows of trees cast on walls by sunlight serve as a metaphor for the way the past unfolds and lingers in the present. This work is a manifestation of tree’s “freedom of speech’; it allows the trees to

utter the things they cannot talk, about the tree lines that had fallen, for

the bridges and pillars to come, about

the scorching misery that bestowed, upon

the denuded solitude that casted its shadow, over

the trees enlisted to be chopped, off

the promises to re-plant, at

the promises that decaying on paper, about

the continuation of the past continuous.

Drawing from over 50 news articles about Metro Line No. 2, the artist selects 49 key words and phrases, constructing a lexicon of the trees. These words are inserted into a repetitive syntax—"để...sẽ...để...sẽ..." (to…[we] will…to…will) —that loops endlessly, pushing language to its breaking point, where meaning dissolves into oblivion and promises become empty shells. The work is a poetic confrontation between technology and nature, randomness and structure, where sunlit shadows evoke the violent history of urban deforestation. It highlights the tension between the natural world and the relentless forward march of urbanization, exposing the fragility of both memory and language in the process.