The landscapes are all AI, highland villages melding fantastically into the snow peaks of the Hengduan Mountains, the fields acid-bright with biodiversity, tended to by natives waving to high-speed trains, and they go on forever, proportioned for a person standing on a travelator. They morph into infrastructure: highway interchanges, industrial parks, kaleidoscopic high-rises. Banking services are rendered as poetry. On a screen, I watch a man take my rucksack, its cover patched with a decade of repair tape, and place it in a tray; a moment later it appears on a conveyor belt. I’ve arrived in Kunming.

— “Dreaming in a left-handed universe”, I Love Wasting Ink, 2026