I strained to keep the uphill-pushing posture. Though the balloon was almost weightless, I was drenched in sweat, gasping for air.

I used a hand pump to inflate a 90-inch red balloon. Once it was full, I tied a strand of red yarn between the balloon and my belly button.

I began pushing the red balloon up and down the four slopes of Forty-Four South Village, over and over again.

I lost track of time. After at least a dozen repetitions, the red balloon finally burst on an uphill slope. There was nothing inside, only air.

Once the balloon burst, I sat down where I was. All that remained was a shred of rubber, like a torn fetal membrane, still stuck to the red yarn at my belly button.

Someone said it looked like I was pushing a giant fruit. Another thought it resembled a breast.

Special thanks to ArTrend Performance Group for organizing Same but Different 2025 – Vernal Equinox, Taipei

Photography: Nelson IN, Yeh Tzu-Chi