Conflict

EVERYONE IS ON HIS (OR HER) WAY TO DEATH FROM THE VERY DAY HE (OR SHE) IS BORN. EVERYDAY MAY BRING SUNSHINE, RAIN AND ITS CONTIGENCIES, MAKING EACH DAY ALIVE. HOWEVER, AS TIME PASSES BY, THERE COMES A DAY WHEN WE THINK OVER THE LIFE WE HAVE SPENT, AND MANY QUESTIONS ARISE.

 

I AM NOT THE KIND OF PERSON TO RAISE QUESTIONS, AND EVEN LESS THE ONE TO ANSWER THEM. I AM JUST ONE OF THE LIVING THINGS, A GRAIN OF DUST, FROM HEAD TO TOE, DROPPED IN THE VAST UNIVERSE OF IMPURITY. BETWEEN DUST AND ME THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE. A TREE, A STONE, A GREEN GRASS STEM, ALL EXIST UNDER THE SAME CONDITIONS AS THE HUMAN BEINGS.

 

IF ONE WALKING INTO THE CHANG AN JIE STREET IN BEIJING, COMES OUT FROM A FILTHY ALLEY; IF WHILE PICKING UP A BIG AMOUNT OF MONEY ONE PULLS A FLATBED TRICYCLE, ONE WILL FEEL UNEASY, AND DISPLACED, LIKE SKY AND EARTH BEING TURNED UPSIDE DOWN. EVEN SO, BEAUTIFUL WOMEN AND MEN OF WEALTH, HELSMEN OF THE TIMES, ALL FEEL UNCERTAIN AND LIMITED. THERE IS AN IRRESISTABLE GRIEF, WHICH CANNOT BE WHITEWASHED. ALL OF US EXIST IN THE GRIEF AND THE FEELING OF BEING DISPLACED.

 

MY GRIEF AND HAPPINESS ARE LIKE WATER. WATER WHICH FLOWS OR STANDS STILL. I FEEL WATER AMONG OTHER RELATIONS IS AN ESSENTIAL RELATION TO LIFE, BUT HUMAN BEINGS DO NOT FOSTER IT. SINCE HUMAN BEINGS DO NOT EVEN CARE FOR EACH OTHER, HOW COULD THEY CARE FOR NATURE, LET ALONE WATER.

 

ONCE, AS A PART OF MY WORK, I PUT FISHES IN A LITTLE IRON BOX. I SAW THEM BREATHING WITH DIFFICULTY. I THEN PUT PLANTS IN A WATER VAT. THE LEAVES BECAME YELLOW AND WITHERED AFTER THREE DAYS. A WORK I LIKE MUCH TILL THIS DAY, WAS TO HANG BAMBOOS UPSIDE DOWN FROM AN IRON RACK. I LET THE BAMBOOS BREATH THE OPEN AIR AND BE WATERED BY THE RAIN. I CERTAINLY FELT ITS PAIN. ALTHOUGH THE BAMBOOS STILL LIVED DESPITE BEING HUNG UPSIDE DOWN, ITS DEATH HAD BEEN SPEEDED UP. I WISH IN MY HEART TO TREAT ALL LIVING THINGS PROPERLY BUT I AM A HUMAN BEING, LIKE A COOK, A BREEDER, A SOLDIER OR A MIGHTY PERSON, AND, FINALLY, LIKE A GRAIN OF DUST.

 

WHEN ARTISTS DO WHAT THEY SHOULD NOT, THEY HEREBY REVEAL THEIR TRUE NATURE.

 

HUANG RUI

1994

错位关系

每一个人都在走向死亡,从他(她)生下那天开始。每天每日,我们都可能接受阳光,消化食物,新陈代谢,完成一点短小的生命过程。本来这不太奇怪,但如果一段时间下来,把它思想一遍,就会产生若干问题。

我不是问题的提出者,更不是解决者。我只是芸芸众生里的一个,宇宙洪荒的一粒灰尘。甚至从头到脚被俗世污染的灰尘。真正的灰尘与我并无二致。同样,一棵树,一块石头,一棵狗尾巴草与我们人类的存在状况大概一致。

如果从一条陋巷走入长安街,如果拉排子车的路上拾到了巨款,你都会觉得天地错了位。即使这样,你仍会感到不安,感到局限。美女和富翁,时代的舵手,都会感到某种局限。这是一种不可抗拒的,无庸粉饰的悲哀。我们都存在于悲哀和错位里面。

我这个人的悲哀如水。如同我的兴奋,也如水。水可流动,也可静止。水是生命里必要的关系。说到关系,我想水不过是诸种关系里的关系之一。水虽然爱护人类,人类却不曾善待水。人类自我尚不能相互善待,对自然界的如此这般就更无所谓了。

我把鱼放到铁盒子里,并不想看到它们困难地呼吸。我把植物放入水缸里,三天后,叶片一片一片发黄和枯萎了。把竹子倒挂在铁架上是我喜欢的作品,因此我给它呼吸户外的空气,上新鲜的水。我当然也感到了它的痛苦。它虽然还活着,换了个位置活着,但死亡的过程却加速了。我的内心希望着善待一切,但我是人类的一员,如同一个厨师,如同饲养员;如同一个士兵,或者一位领袖。最终,如同一粒灰尘。

艺术家做他不应该做的东西的时候,从而获得一种生命的过渡。

 

黄锐
1994