(Dis)continuity is a three-part installation organised through the temporal framework of past, present, and future. Developed between 2000 and 2012, the project examines how personal time, artistic labour, and financial responsibility become entangled within systems of production and survival.

The first section addresses the past. At the entrance, a stack of 366 folded T-shirts is arranged on a pedestal, functioning as a receiving screen for projected images. Each shirt corresponds to a day in the year 2000. During that period, the artist documented her daily life by recording short video diaries whenever she went outside wearing these shirts.

These recordings form a visual archive of routine, movement, and repetition. Marked with calendar-like designs, the T-shirts transform private time into a collective surface, where personal memory becomes a shared visual field.

The second section represents the present. Visitors pass through a narrow corridor connecting the exhibition rooms. Hidden motion sensors activate sudden flashes of light when someone enters the passage. The brief, disorienting illumination produces an intensified moment of perception that appears and disappears instantly.

This fleeting encounter underscores the instability of the present as an experience that can be registered only momentarily before vanishing. An automatic door, triggered by another concealed sensor, opens toward the final space.

The third section addresses the future. Inside a white room, a five-metre LED panel continuously displays the figure of 280,000 Thai baht—the total amount the artist borrowed to produce the exhibition. Additional sensors at the entrance count visitors in real time.

These data are used to calculate the exhibition’s per-viewer financial cost. By dividing total debt by the number of visitors, the system reveals how much the artist effectively pays per viewing.

The system also compares the accumulated debt with the artist’s monthly salary. Based on this relationship, it calculates the estimated time required to repay the loan after the exhibition ends, translating financial obligation into lived duration.

As production expenses increase throughout the exhibition period, the displayed figures change continuously. The installation makes visible how artistic production extends beyond the exhibition itself, binding future labour and income to past financial decisions.

By embedding debt, time, and bodily presence within the exhibition architecture, (Dis)continuity exposes how creative labour is sustained through personal financial risk. The work situates artistic practice within systems of credit, institutional dependency, and uneven income structures in developing economies.

Rather than separating biography from economic conditions, the project frames artistic production as a continuous negotiation between memory, visibility, and structural precarity. Creative time is shown not as autonomous or protected, but as inseparable from debt, duration, and economic survival.