/* 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;
      }
    }
  });
});
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;
    }
});
Downcast Eyes
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";
        }
    }
});
2014-2015
Archival pigment print
Downcast Eyes is a silent wall—composed of twenty-four portraits, each gazing straight at the lens. Their expressions are restrained, their eyes slightly averted, as though looking at you, yet also toward some invisible elsewhere. Each image is extracted from a moment of private video calls. Blurred resolution and uneven lighting mark them as outside the canon of photographic aesthetics, yet they speak more truthfully to the texture of our times—of daily vision, shaped by a digital era in which true eye contact is increasingly impossible.



These are not portraits of individuals, but portraits of a time. To capture this peculiar subject, the artist upends traditional photographic practices—not moving body and camera toward a subject, but allowing the screen to “automatically summon” the image into view. When the screen becomes the sole interface for presence, and eye contact is reduced to simulated gazes within images, the fundamental structure of being “face to face” begins to collapse.



The artist acutely observes that the tiny distance—just a few millimeters—between display screen and webcam is enough to generate a crisis in perception. When both parties look directly at the camera, the image suggests mutual eye contact, but in doing so, neither truly sees the other. Yet when one gazes at the other’s image on screen, the eye line drifts—never quite focused, never quite aligned.



In a way, the video call interface creates an elegant, infinite recursive function of gaze—each person’s eyes falling into an endless loop of mirrored illusions, reflecting and folding until the gesture erodes into delay and fatigue. Looking becomes a suffocating exchange: we cannot truly meet, only simulate intimacy within an image, and grow slowly cold inside it. The “downcast eyes” do not merely denote sadness—they express a sensory dislocation endemic to our time.



This is also one of the artist’s most personal yet abstract emotional records. Here, technology ceases to be a neutral medium and becomes a reverse-permeating emotional apparatus. It does not simply alter how we see—it restructures the relationship itself. Among these nearly homogenized faces lies an unsettling truth: video calls were never designed for deep mutual seeing. They are architectures of safe absence, protocols that let us gently miss each other without consequence. In this kind of vision, the beloved is no longer the face of the other, but the distance—perpetually buffered—between us.
2026 CopyRight ©