In the beginning, I didn't think I cared if anyone saw it or understood what I was doing. But then someone walked into the room and asked me, "Who cares?" And for some reason, I started writing it down.

It was no longer only about my refusal to show. The refusal somehow moved from me to the audience. And then I took that refusal from the audience and used it as material for the work.

I was already questioning what it means to finish a work. I don't really know what it means to complete something.

So maybe the work doesn't end when I finish it. It seems to stop whenever the rejection stops, when acceptance begins.

So, who cares?

- Kay Shi