Foggy, Sometimes Sunny
Documentation
Foggy, Sometimes Sunny
2022
In April 2022, Shanghai entered an unexpected and prolonged lockdown. With little warning, people were caught off guard—physically, mentally, emotionally.
As days went by, breakdowns in food supply, healthcare, and daily routines pushed many to a breaking point. Online, people began sharing censored information. I wanted to document what was happening—but from Tokyo, I couldn't be there.
On April 25th, I started wearing a full PPE suit from China in my daily life. It wasn't just about subverting the symbol—I wanted to physically understand what isolation, protection, and being seen as a symbol felt like.
Inside the suit, the world shifted. Air and light became distant. Strangers reacted differently. I documented it all—in diary entries, photos, through fogged lenses and fleeting sensations.
I took the suit off when lockdown officially ended on June 30th. The government claimed it had never been mandatory.
Foggy, Sometimes Sunny is a collection of those images—some taken by me, some by my partner.
As days went by, breakdowns in food supply, healthcare, and daily routines pushed many to a breaking point. Online, people began sharing censored information. I wanted to document what was happening—but from Tokyo, I couldn't be there.
On April 25th, I started wearing a full PPE suit from China in my daily life. It wasn't just about subverting the symbol—I wanted to physically understand what isolation, protection, and being seen as a symbol felt like.
Inside the suit, the world shifted. Air and light became distant. Strangers reacted differently. I documented it all—in diary entries, photos, through fogged lenses and fleeting sensations.
I took the suit off when lockdown officially ended on June 30th. The government claimed it had never been mandatory.
Foggy, Sometimes Sunny is a collection of those images—some taken by me, some by my partner.
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Foggy, Sometimes Sunny
Documentation
Foggy, Sometimes Sunny
2022
In April 2022, Shanghai entered an unexpected and prolonged lockdown. With little warning, people were caught off guard—physically, mentally, emotionally.
As days went by, breakdowns in food supply, healthcare, and daily routines pushed many to a breaking point. Online, people began sharing censored information. I wanted to document what was happening—but from Tokyo, I couldn't be there.
On April 25th, I started wearing a full PPE suit from China in my daily life. It wasn't just about subverting the symbol—I wanted to physically understand what isolation, protection, and being seen as a symbol felt like.
Inside the suit, the world shifted. Air and light became distant. Strangers reacted differently. I documented it all—in diary entries, photos, through fogged lenses and fleeting sensations.
I took the suit off when lockdown officially ended on June 30th. The government claimed it had never been mandatory.
Foggy, Sometimes Sunny is a collection of those images—some taken by me, some by my partner.
As days went by, breakdowns in food supply, healthcare, and daily routines pushed many to a breaking point. Online, people began sharing censored information. I wanted to document what was happening—but from Tokyo, I couldn't be there.
On April 25th, I started wearing a full PPE suit from China in my daily life. It wasn't just about subverting the symbol—I wanted to physically understand what isolation, protection, and being seen as a symbol felt like.
Inside the suit, the world shifted. Air and light became distant. Strangers reacted differently. I documented it all—in diary entries, photos, through fogged lenses and fleeting sensations.
I took the suit off when lockdown officially ended on June 30th. The government claimed it had never been mandatory.
Foggy, Sometimes Sunny is a collection of those images—some taken by me, some by my partner.