I guess what frustrates me is that my personal story is not told in the narrative of the Orientalist, or the stereotype of “Asian” person presented in this othering society. My narrative, of surviving through my severe eczema, and of facing cultural norms and racism as a young Japanese woman entering this culturally diverse country. 

Instead, they impose me this identity as “other”, which is a performative role based upon the view point of the Western suprematism. 

In my bedroom, I addressed construction of this imposed identity, as well as sharing my own narratives which I let my body to talk in a performance.

The first half of the film shows the girl forced to perform the role of the Oriental. She feels uneasy, because none of those identities are hers.

Eventually, her body responds first; she starts scratching herself, then having hyperventilation. She instinctively destroys the set, which was a cage for her, filled with othering intensions and patriarchal gazes. 

In the later half of the film, she tries to claim her own space. She does so by letting her body to paint on the bedsheets from earlier. It is a mark of individuality. The irrefutable evidence of her individuality and her presence in that space at that time. With the unique traces that only her body can draw, she finally finds her place.