RCA2024 → Monologue texts of Leaves, Rice, Land.



Of a sudden, 

he said he wanted to do something for the emotions he had accumulated over time.

He said, "On Sunday, I picked up a newspaper at the subway station. 

Newspapers don't last long there, usually only a day. 

It's hard to find old newspapers, except for that day. 

But this Friday’s news was an exception. 

On the horoscope page, 

Patrick Arundell's words seemed to have triggered something in him,

 and he began a conversation with me."




1

The first image he shared with me was of the flowing rivers of the Scandinavian Peninsula, 

reminding him of the river back home. As we flowed,

 was it the reflection on the water's surface or the bottom?

He learned that a century ago, 

Munch said human fate is like the meeting and burning of planets. 

Sami people, Finnmark, stave churches— stories he'd never heard of, like the woman, child, and her lambs he met in Lhasa.

 The tranquility of that land, Norwegians had long understood it. 

"Everything is coincidence and impermanence, just like I'm writing you this letter now."

"By the way, have you ever eaten zongzi without filling?"

I've never seen such zongzi, 

nor can I imagine its taste.

He said there’s a kind of zongzi without filling he only ate at home. 

He roamed all the streets and alleys, but never found it again. 




2

He wrote, we are an era woven by images, 

flooded with fragments in our brains, 

or perhaps sensual ghosts.

 Bernard Faucon said, 

"I'm trying to create not a narrated story, 

but a moment that appears in the storyteller's mind." 

He asked me, 

could there be a moment when the model's mind feels lonely?

Faucon gave up photography long before the 21st century. 

"Photography keeps moving forward, but the times have changed. People no longer care about authenticity." 

So let’s play along this time. 




3

He felt he was floating too, 

like those women from left to right, 

just without ads on their chests, 

and certainly not dancing.

He talked about how people seem more keen to watch a play and bear the crowd, 

hip-hop beats, improvisation, or dogs. 

This place is packed. 

First trapped, then voluntarily imprisoning themselves. 

Ocean Vuong was right,

isn't a country a life sentence?

(releasing zongzi)




"The farther we go, the more likely the perfect existence we find is just our own wishful thinking."




4

For a long, long time, 

he stopped sending letters, 

until the last one. 

He said, 

"That day I saw a large world map, 

covered with various pins pointing to homes all over the world. 

On the right side of the map—far to the east,

amidst the dense pins,

there was a black hole,

perhaps a mistake by someone unfamiliar with geography,

like a bullet hole.

That is my home."




That kind of zongzi 

is the woman, the child, and her lambs, 

is the model, 

is the crowded place, 

is his hometown.




Does a planet changing its orbit change a prison sentence?





偶然间的,他说要做点什么,

为他积攒已久的情绪。


他说

星期天在地铁站捡到一份报纸

在那里生存的报纸寿命很短

通常仅有一日

你很难找到除当日之外的旧报纸

这份星期五的讯息例外

星座预测那页

Patrick Arundell的话好像击中了他某个开关

他开始了与我的对话。




1

他告诉我的第一个画面,

是斯堪的纳维亚半岛流动的河

这让他想到了家乡的那条

我们流动的景象

是反射水面还是水底?


他才知道

在一个世纪之前

蒙克说

人类的命运如同行星的相遇与燃烧

Sami 人、Finnmark、木板教堂

一个个未曾听说过的故事

就像他在拉萨遇到的

朝拜的女人、孩子和她的小羊

这块土地的静谧

挪威人早早地就悟透了

“一切都是偶然和无常

就像现在我正在给你写信。”



“顺带一提,

你吃过没有馅儿的粽子吗?”


我从未见过这样的粽子

也无法想象那样的味道。


他说

有一种没有馅儿的粽子

他只在家里吃到过

他四处寻找

却始终无迹可寻。




2


他写道,

我们是被图像交织而成的时代

涌入我们大脑的是碎片组成的洪流

亦或是性感幽灵

Bernard Faucon说

“我试图创造的不是被讲述的故事,

而是讲故事的人脑海中浮现的某个瞬间。”

他问我

会不会有一个瞬间

模特的脑海里很孤单?


Faucon早在21世纪前就放弃了摄影

“摄影还在继续往前走,但时代变了,

人们不再关注真实性。”

那就将计就计一次吧。





3


他感觉

他也轻飘飘的

像那些女人

从左向右

只是胸前没有广告

更不会热舞


他谈论道

人们似乎更热衷于看戏而承受拥挤

嘻哈鼓点、即兴表演或狗

这里人头攒动

先是被困

再是主动画地为牢

Ocean Vuong 说的对

一个国家不就是一次无期徒刑?


“我们走得越远,找到的完美存在就越可能只是自己一厢情愿。”







4

很久很久

他都不再寄信

直到最后一篇

他说

“在那天我看到一张很大的世界地图

上面订满了各式各样的大头针

指向了来自世界各地的家乡

在地图的右边——遥远的东方

密集的针里有一个黑洞

或许是某个不识地理的人的失误

像被子弹打穿的痕迹

那是我的家。”


那种粽子

是朝拜的女人、孩子和她的小羊

是模特

是人头攒动

是他的家乡


行星变换了它的轨道

是否改判了有期徒刑?