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| mythology date: 20 may.- 20 jun. 2006
Postscript to the Notes on the Stones Long long time ago is one of the bitter sentences. To put it exactly, it referred to five years ago, how short and long that five years! How that depressed feelings be erupted! Even if I fear the premature aging, I have begun to accept the unacceptable maturity against the oppressive attitude for the past five years and all what happened before. Did I really encounter that stone on my way to my way to home? Perhaps! But is it so legendary as I describe? After five years, due to instinct, I begun to suspect my description, even I feel uneasy for what I said emotionally. For anytime, being over sensational will lead to being affectedly unconventional. That is a smelling trap, unbearable and warning. For that stone, that is very common-looking one. Such a stone is available everywhere in that place, used by the peasants to put on the roadside to keep the traffic from nearing their houses. Because of an occasional glimpse or over-gaze, it was carried back to my home impulsively one night. When I recall this fact, I feel so uncertain about my memory! What I am just satisfied is that the so-called remembered truth is not what I look for. ‘Myth” has appeared, despite it might come from a lie.
Undoubtedly, all these paintings named as ‘Myth’ are fabulized by me, what is said about civilization is fictitious. There are two explanations about ‘Myth’ in dictionary: 1.noun, A story of ancient heroes about immorals or mythology, a kind of innocent explanation and an aspiration on natural phenomena and social life. 2. something absurd. Since the original meaning has been abused repeatedly, my eisegetical explanation, even somewhat reluctant, might be coincident with such fantastic tale. Myth is a story, centered by a person and a pile of nondescript stones, as well as a depressing immanent ambience. Faced with such elements, I couldn’t help having a strong intention to glorify them, to imply those tumultuous worldly things around me, then, to realize my ambition of representing a world of mind. From the first drawing I made six years ago, my life has been full of confrontations, struggles and ambition, and even today after six years without any hint of subdual. Even if I don’t feel uneasy anymore in such dilemma, these leisureliness will never change my tragic awareness of this psychological reality! Myth, however, is a sublimation of lie, which is permeated with romances and wonders with tragic tones!
Language is always full of eeriness and ambiguity. This is a deepening experience that I got in my grown-up years. Who is ‘Sisyphus’? does my story really have nothing to do with him? That seems more like a ritual, and from my limited understanding, I can only make my actions take orders from a more powerful impulse-transform all the crazy or folly ideas into the works as a physical fact. Sometimes, I am successful. Those images do not become blurred after five years’ suspension. They are like the beast hibernating, they would roar more rapidly and loudly in my mind once they got released from the chains of temperature, what I could do is to capture them one by one in a more powerful rationality and self-righteousness. Even stiff and breathless, I will sacrifice myself! At the moment as if it has really nothing to do with the hero written by Camius. I would be drowned myself in my happiness and depression of capture, tirelessly and intently.
When I was a kid, I once heard that a young pal said his hatred and anger at a clasp. He said whenever he saw a lonely clasp in his palm, he couldn’t endure it. That exciting anger and nondescript hatred made him hammer that innocent clasp into pieces, only did such action make him feel relaxed for his intense and paranoiac mind. There are only two ways out for such angers and depressions: stiff digestion and more stiff explosion. To choose a relatively reasonable silence could not avoid the emergence of inner hurt. And then someone always chooses a more extreme explosion, but the destiny of explosion is that breaking. This action is imbued with quite paranoiac meaninglessness-the only destination of their destiny.
The story of Sisyphus is full of sermon and strongly warning ambition. That is after all one person’s story. I would like to regard it as an attitude-self-slavery and self-exile. That would be more significant than warning and sermon. Recently I often talk of that ‘life is not wonderful, but so short’, which is from an American movie director. Such eternal judgment at once reveals a secret of life. And then all the hints are entangled into a senseless rope, which harnesses most people, they don’t want and can’t draw out of such somewhat tragic bloodiness. To live is for living itself-I hold such belief firmly. Because I am proving this sentence with my glorious life. Conclusion
“很久很久以前…”是一句饱含很多沧桑味道的话。准确的说法开始于五年前，这短暂而又漫长的五年！那些沉积于胸的过多的沧桑与感慨时时溢出！即使有为老先衰的恐惧，我也已经开始接受由于时间的逼迫而不得不接受的成熟，那或许是一种被迫的坦然，但它毕竟是一种更为进步的态度，对过去的五年，对一切事。 我真的曾经在回家的路上邂逅过那块石头吗？或许吧！但它真如我想象般描述的那么充满传奇吗？出于本能，事隔五年我开始对自己的描述充满了怀疑，甚至因为自己使用了过于动情的语气而羞愧难为情。因为任何时候，过分的煽情都会导致矫情。那就像一个气味难闻的陷阱，令人无法忍受。 心生警惕。 至于那块石头，那不过是一块再普通不过的石头。那一带这样的石头随处可见，它只不过是农民用来放在马路边上，以防止来往的车辆过近的靠近他们的房屋。因为偶然的一瞥或是过分的注视，它被我在某个夜晚冲动地搬回了家。回忆这个事实使我对过去的记忆产生了强烈的动摇！聊以自慰的是所谓记忆的真实已不再是我的追求。“神话”已经出现，虽然它可能来自一种谎言。
毫无疑问，所有这些命名为“神话”的 画都是我编排出来的，文明的说法是虚构。字典里关于“神话”的解释有两个：一、名词。关于神仙或神话的古代英雄的故事，是古代劳动人民对自然现象和社会生活的一种天真的解释和美丽的向往。二，指荒诞的无稽之谈！ 既然原有的意义已经无数次被歪曲，我的穿凿附会即使稍嫌勉强终又不会暗合了荒诞的无稽之谈的本意。“神话”是个故事，故事的中心围绕着一个人和一堆莫可名状的石头，以及一个无所不在的逼仄氛围。面对这些元素我动用了强烈的企图，赋予它们光彩，去影射我周围纷繁的世界，进而实现在即妄图再现一个心理现实的野心。 从六年前第一张草图开始，生活里弥漫着对抗、挣扎和野心，在六年后的今天竟无丝毫的减弱。即但“神话”毕竟是谎言的升华，充满了散发着悲剧气息的浪漫和惊奇！
语言总是充满了吊诡和歧义。这是我在成熟之年里越来越深的体会。 此时此刻它好像真的和加缪笔下的那个人无关。我会短暂沉浸在捕获的喜悦和沮丧中，乐此不疲，心无旁骛。
我曾经在很小的时候听见一个伙伴诉说他对一枚扣子的仇恨和愤怒。他说每当看到一枚单独的扣子放在手掌上他就无法忍受。内心激荡的愤怒和莫名的仇恨促使他用锤子把那枚无辜的的扣子砸的粉碎，唯有此才能使他那无比偏执又紧张的心松弛下来。 种种的愤懑和抑郁最后只有两个出口。生硬地消化和更为生硬的爆发。选择相对理智的沉默也并不能回避内伤的萌生。于是总有人选择更为极端的爆发，而爆发的归宿却是粉碎。这行为带有极其偏执的无意义——它们殊途同归的唯一的目的地。
西西弗斯的故事本身充满了说教和强烈的使人警醒的企图。那毕竟是关于一个人的故事。我更愿意把这故事看成一种态度——自我的奴役和放逐。那会比惊醒和说教来的更加意味深长。“人生不美好，所以很短暂”是我最近常常念叨的一句话，它来自一个美国的导演。这泄露天机的话语一下子泻了生活的底。于是所有的线索纠结成一根麻木的绳索套在大多数人的身上，不能自拔也不想自拔才真正的透出了些许悲剧的血腥味。 活着为了活着本身——我对此深信不疑。因为我正在用自己白花花、金灿灿的耀眼的生命去印证这句话。
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