The Phantom Forest

With the development of technology, we are inundated with a torrent of information and its noise. In this age where the sense of the body continues to fade, the man disassembles and reassembles machines as if he were checking the world or checking himself.
Scattered in pieces are old fans he used to see at his grandparents' house when he was a child. They were simple but had great energy, but they are not moving, as if they had died.
Blades and batteries. Plastic and iron. Translucent, white, rusty. But the man assembles their parts toward a new balance, as if to breathe life back into the energy of their "forms". It was an act of connecting things and bodies, an act of exploring new relationships of energy, and for the man, an important time of dialogue and remembrance.
Eventually, a ghostly forest rises up. The man sits in the lost forest. His steps, which to others seemed to be merely wandering, were as if he knew from the beginning that it was there in that place.