My thesis, Threads of Distance, is a textile installation that explores the space between cultural memory and modernization—a space I’ve inhabited my whole life. I grew up in Baotou, a city where the Mongolian grasslands give way to a growing array of concrete buildings. In one direction are stories, songs, and languages passed down through generations. In the other is progress—fast, unyielding, and capable of erasing the past. My project became a way of holding both truths in the same space.

I wanted to explore how textiles could become a language for memory, care, and cultural continuity. Not just something to look at, but something to move through—an experience of distance of both the geographical kind and the emotional and generational kind. To do that, I brought together weaving, knitting, and biofabrication, allowing each material process to carry part of the story.

At the heart of the installation is a woven piece created on a digital Jacquard loom, dyed using a traditional Katazome (Japanese resist-dyeing) method. The fabric holds Mongolian script spelling out “Baotou,” along with lyrics from "Father’s Grassland, Mother’s River," a traditional song that still echoes in my memory. Around it I shaped a delicate Kombucha biofilm into map-like forms representing Inner Mongolia, their translucent fragility reminding me of how landscapes, like memories, can fade and persist simultaneously. I paired this with knitted panels, created with a digitally programmed knitting machine, that blend the structure of machine logic with the softness of hand-finished yarns—a reflection of my own place existing between tradition and technology.

My work also expresses a commitment to sustainability: I used natural dyes, low-waste processes, and biodegradable materials to create work for an imagined future that is more rooted and responsible. Ultimately, Threads of Distance is a personal landscape made of fabric and time. It is an offering—designed to present and reconnect stories and carry them forward.