A passage to a quasi room ( of waiting for A Fiercely Affectionate Sculpture)

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A passage to a quasi room ( of waiting for A Fiercely Affectionate Sculpture)
Hu Fang

A narrow door leads to sunset, one that may become the door of sunset, if we wish, we may all become those picking seeds under its glow, and the light, is as translucent as you see it.

We wish that moment may become eternal, what may be more generous than a glass of water in thirst and a bowl of rice in hunger, or a bed and a fragrant pillow on an exhausting journey? Below a peaceful lamp, she took out some clean sheets from the dresser, and thoughtfully adjusted the position of the pillows for the comfort of the person will lay on it; she was focused and elegant in making the bed, like a choreographed daily dance. The lamp projects her shadow in motion, as if this became center of the world, and the tranquility locked inside the room gives one the impulse to eternalize this moment.

If I am your color blue, then, I would await for your light. What I hope is not a light that will pierce through this singular color, but to envelop, cover and include myself with other color to reveal a new light spectrum; If I were your color blue, then, everyday is a lucky day, I am willing to wait, to momentarily halt, like time would be made eternal, feelings may change, and on this journey, that warm bowl of soup given by a stranger will continue to nurture our days to come.

 

Text © 2012 the Author and The Pavilion