YE SIANJIE
/* 新增鍵盤左右鍵切換作品的功能 */
document.addEventListener('DOMContentLoaded', function() {
// 取得按鈕元素
const prevButton = document.querySelector('.prev-post');
const nextButton = document.querySelector('.next-post');
// 監聽鍵盤事件
document.addEventListener('keydown', function(event) {
// 判斷按下的按鍵
if (event.key === 'ArrowLeft' && prevButton) { // 檢查 prevButton 是否存在
if (prevButton.href) { // 檢查 prevButton 是否具有 href 屬性
// 觸發上一篇連結
window.location.href = prevButton.href;
}
} else if (event.key === 'ArrowRight' && nextButton) { // 檢查 nextButton 是否存在
if (nextButton.href) { // 檢查 nextButton 是否具有 href 屬性
// 觸發下一篇連結
window.location.href = nextButton.href;
}
}
});
});中EN日
document.addEventListener('DOMContentLoaded', function() {
// 取得隱藏的 WPML 語言選擇器
var wpmlLanguageSwitcher = document.querySelector('.wpml-ls-statics-shortcode_actions ul');
// 取得你的菜單
var yourMenu = document.querySelector('.lang-link-container');
// 檢查 WPML 語言選擇器是否存在
if (wpmlLanguageSwitcher && yourMenu) {
// 處理 ZH
var zhItem = wpmlLanguageSwitcher.querySelector('.wpml-ls-item-zh-hant');
var zhMenuItem = yourMenu.querySelector('.lang-link-ZH');
if (zhItem && zhMenuItem) {
var zhLink = zhItem.querySelector('a');
zhMenuItem.href = zhLink.href;
if (zhItem.classList.contains('wpml-ls-current-language')) {
zhMenuItem.classList.add('current-page-lang');
}
} else {
zhMenuItem.style.display = 'none';
}
// 處理 EN
var enItem = wpmlLanguageSwitcher.querySelector('.wpml-ls-item-en');
var enMenuItem = yourMenu.querySelector('.lang-link-EN');
if (enItem && enMenuItem) {
var enLink = enItem.querySelector('a');
enMenuItem.href = enLink.href;
if (enItem.classList.contains('wpml-ls-current-language')) {
enMenuItem.classList.add('current-page-lang');
}
} else {
enMenuItem.style.display = 'none';
}
// 處理 JA
var jaItem = wpmlLanguageSwitcher.querySelector('.wpml-ls-item-ja');
var jaMenuItem = yourMenu.querySelector('.lang-link-JA');
if (jaItem && jaMenuItem) {
var jaLink = jaItem.querySelector('a');
jaMenuItem.href = jaLink.href;
if (jaItem.classList.contains('wpml-ls-current-language')) {
jaMenuItem.classList.add('current-page-lang');
}
} else {
jaMenuItem.style.display = 'none';
}
}
});jQuery(document).ready(function($) {
var header = $('.singlework-header');
var headerHeight = header.outerHeight();
var isHeaderVisible = false;
var scrollThreshold = 10; //定滾動多少 px 才會觸發
var lastScrollTop = 0;
var headerContainer = $('.singlework-page');
var scrollTimeout = null; //向上滾動時,延遲多久才會顯示
$(window).on('load', function() {
header.css('top', -headerHeight + 'px');
});
$(document).mousemove(function(event) {
if (event.pageY < 50 && !isHeaderVisible) {
showHeader();
}
});
headerContainer.scroll(function() {
var scrollTop = $(this).scrollTop();
var delta = scrollTop - lastScrollTop; // 計算滾動方向
if (!isHeaderVisible) {
// 向上滾動超過閾值時,延遲顯示 header
if (delta < 0 && Math.abs(delta) > scrollThreshold) {
if (scrollTimeout) {
clearTimeout(scrollTimeout);
}
scrollTimeout = setTimeout(function() {
showHeader();
}, 150);
}
} else {
// **只有向下滾動時才關閉 header**
if (delta > 0 && Math.abs(delta) > scrollThreshold) {
hideHeader();
}
}
lastScrollTop = scrollTop;
});
$(document).click(function(event) {
if (!$(event.target).closest('.singlework-header').length && isHeaderVisible) {
hideHeader();
}
});
function showHeader() {
header.addClass('show');
isHeaderVisible = true;
}
function hideHeader() {
header.removeClass('show');
isHeaderVisible = false;
}
});A Wind Blowing in Nothing
false
document.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded", function() {
// 獲取 meta field 的隱藏元素
let metaFieldElement = document.querySelector(".singlework-pure-en-title-switcher");
// 獲取 .singlework-title 標題
let postTitle = document.querySelector(".singlework-title");
// 確保 metaFieldElement 和 postTitle 存在
if (metaFieldElement && postTitle) {
// 讀取 meta field 的值並去除前後空格
let metaValue = metaFieldElement.innerText.trim().toLowerCase();
// 如果 meta field 值是 "true",則將字距設為 0
if (metaValue === "true") {
postTitle.style.letterSpacing = "0";
}
}
});2016
Digital print on wall with wooden frame and photo frame
A Wind Blowing in Nothing is an extremely minimalist work full of gaps: a digital portrait of a character from a video game, framed and quietly placed against a wall simulating white tiles. The character's eyes are half-closed, as if caught in the middle of an incomplete blink. The entire piece resembles a line of poetry left beyond a sentence, silently and irreducibly existing.
This image originates from a virtual space: the character is a product of computation, and the environment has no tangible existence. Even that blink is not a residual reflex but a time node within an animation program—it has no beginning or end, no cause or effect. It belongs neither to someone's memory nor to something that has occurred in reality. It is a perception summoned by the viewer's gaze: at that moment, the image acquires significance in time and body, becoming an event of existence that can only be constructed through the act of watching.
The wind here is no longer a physical flow of air, but a force of relational perception that is difficult to pinpoint yet undeniably affects the experience. It is invisible, unrecordable, yet forms a permeating sensory relationship between the viewer and the image—not blowing toward something, but subtly entering the intermediary space between the image and the body, a space that is neither present nor tangible.
This is not merely about the problem of representing an image; it is a strange exchange: reality and fiction, presence and absence, watching and being watched—these unclassifiable perceptual experiences make us reconsider our relationship with images. An image does not necessarily bear reality, but is more likely an occasional event in perception—an emotional generation in process, a wind without a place to belong.
The tranquility and sparseness of the piece resemble a gentle disturbance. It does not weigh us down with the heaviness of an image but presents a fresh “lightness” in viewing, approaching us with subtle but vivid sensation, like each moment we miss when we blink without noticing.
This image originates from a virtual space: the character is a product of computation, and the environment has no tangible existence. Even that blink is not a residual reflex but a time node within an animation program—it has no beginning or end, no cause or effect. It belongs neither to someone's memory nor to something that has occurred in reality. It is a perception summoned by the viewer's gaze: at that moment, the image acquires significance in time and body, becoming an event of existence that can only be constructed through the act of watching.
The wind here is no longer a physical flow of air, but a force of relational perception that is difficult to pinpoint yet undeniably affects the experience. It is invisible, unrecordable, yet forms a permeating sensory relationship between the viewer and the image—not blowing toward something, but subtly entering the intermediary space between the image and the body, a space that is neither present nor tangible.
This is not merely about the problem of representing an image; it is a strange exchange: reality and fiction, presence and absence, watching and being watched—these unclassifiable perceptual experiences make us reconsider our relationship with images. An image does not necessarily bear reality, but is more likely an occasional event in perception—an emotional generation in process, a wind without a place to belong.
The tranquility and sparseness of the piece resemble a gentle disturbance. It does not weigh us down with the heaviness of an image but presents a fresh “lightness” in viewing, approaching us with subtle but vivid sensation, like each moment we miss when we blink without noticing.
2026 CopyRight ©



