A Tent of Four Colors, Breakfast, Quiet War

Each person’s tent truly comes from the things within their everyday life.

The inner tent reflects exactly how I feel inside.

I DO NOT want to see those conflicts, and I just want to hide myself.

In the quiet of an ordinary morning, I went downstairs to look for breakfast and paper. I selected four different colors, imagining them as the four sides of a tent. The colors were soft and muted—gray-blue, yellow, kraft brown, and a gentle beige. Each side felt connected, yet unable to communicate with the others. I fastened them together with a stapler, forming a simple tent structure that held quiet meaning.

Inside the tent, I placed my breakfast. There were a few leaves of lettuce, two slices of onion, and a piece of salted pork. This small meal felt tender and vulnerable, much like the fresh lettuce itself. In these uncertain times, even a simple breakfast becomes something precious. The threat of war conflict feels close, and the fragility of everyday life becomes more visible.

Beside the tent, I placed a blue sandal. Inside the tent, I included a small handmade chick from a women’s craft collective in Nepal. Around the tent, I used recycled corrugated mesh wrapping. It is more environmentally friendly than bubble wrap, yet still evokes the feeling of a barrier, something both caring and confining.

This tent became a space where I could hold the thoughts I rarely speak. It feels risky to share honestly in a world where opinions divide and words are easily misinterpreted. I often stay silent, afraid of losing friends or disrupting relationships. Even within family, it can be difficult to speak openly. This tent is my quiet space, where fragile emotions and hidden truths can breathe. It is a space of reflection, care, and gentle grounding.

Today, I invited everyone present into my tent. Not just physically, but emotionally. This artmaking moment reminds me that even when the world feels heavy, we can still create spaces of safety, warmth, and trust together.