A small handful of soil and seed in a pocket grow into a sonic landscape through the touch of hands. The electromagnetic soil of that landscape is weaving together within different times and voices. A field that once nurtured young tobacco sprouts through many seasons has now grown the first tentative sprouts of rice. The soil holds many fragments of memory, the fleetingness of birth and death, becoming a space where many DNAs grow into the multitude of complex ecosystems of us as humanity. Each fragment of us rotates into a shared reality, where many sprouts find coexistence within the boundaries of this field. The soil becomes a liminal landscape, echoing beyond our existence. It grows fleetingly into a symphony of noises born in this field, resonating with the infinite frequencies of the land's memory, which once held the intergrowth of rice and tobacco, that became our life for a moment.
