Fire Pit Space
2024
“Limu Mountain, our Mother Limu,What are your shoes made of? The sea is your shoes.What is your belt made of? The green pine is your belt.What is your hat made of? The stone is your hat.The firepit is where your soul rests, and where we were born.We are your children, bound together; the blood-red roots will guide us home to your embrace.Limu Mountain, our Mother Limu,What makes you silent? What brings your death?Limu Mountain, our Mother Limu, where will we go?”
A ritual by Changli Cui, AG(fka Academiegalerie), Utrecht, The Netherlands, 2024
Photo by Sophia Wang Xue
1989, was the year of the last ritual,
also the final time I saw Limu Mountain.
That morning, mist began rising from the mountain at dawn.
We gathered around the fire pit.
Daba, our shaman, stood among us, facing Limu Mountain.
She lit a pile of pine needles,
sending thin white smoke spiraling into the sky.
The young people of Diaoti, watching the smoke,
poured wine, scattered flowers,
and offered gifts to Limu Mountain.
Exhibition at the Basecamp for Tactical Imaginaries, Utrecht, The Netherlands, 2025
Photo by Mirella