Slight Object

Text / Jun Tan || Translator / Yuzhen Wang

It’s been a long time since I have written something, for I thrive on images.

Not that I have nothing to record, but because I am aware that I can’t fully depict the feelings about images.

I hate when there are too many things on my mind. Instead, I prefer it to be vacant, with only some unknown images flashing back and forth. Only when they are gradually visualized, impressing myself and triggering my desire, I will then timidly begin to depict them. After numerous clumsy and torturing failures, finally I find a balance between the image in my mind and other elements, such as papers, paint brushes, inks, colors, water, and myself. It turns out to be smooth and pleasant, continuously delighting and surprising me like a reward.

However, this kind of game cannot last long. It is like that a constant blessing will eventually cause people to be lazy and lose their goal for living. People crave to be amazed, to recognize themselves and to keep taking challenges. It is much harder to put these words into practice though, but at least I strive to do so when it comes to painting.

I admire the kind of tranquility that is adorable, warm and light, yet at the same time, one is not capable of getting rid of its intensive, enormous, and deep side. I enjoy experiencing the quietness and drifting in it. The reason is probably the interaction between the caucus surroundings and my nature.

I can always feel the sense of eternity from silent objects. They don’t seem to be affected by time and exist simply in their own will. When I look at them, it seems like whatever representation or behavior will all be frozen and timeless.

Being around with plants has always been a delight to me. No matter how I appreciate, stare at, or try to impair them, they never interrupt my emotion or meditation. Plants are generous to present themselves and never care about those amazing moments they have. Conversely, humans are sensitive about their advantages since they were young. They either show off or conceal it, or make use of it and go after some vulgar pay-offs.

The beauty of plants lies in their purity and genuineness. Their casual attitude toward time and death is also attracting people’s attention to such flawless creation.

Abundance in variety and detail, one cannot comprehend much of the beauty of plants without assistance of drawings and others’ observation. Humans waste time on those “useless” things in their limited life span, without knowing how much happiness is being ignored. Fortunately, knowledge can be accumulated, and joy can be passed on. I can make up my insufficient time in those old painting papers.

“The naked trunks are the souls of the tree.” When I saw this line in a movie, I was shocked and wanted to talk to the characters about those same feelings of mine. From time to time, I search for virgin natural spirits among reality and images, impressed by their existence beyond time: far while fresh, and thorough while light. It seems capable to penetrate soul but is without a shape, clear like a night thunder but unable to be tracked.

Perhaps as a result of the shrinking length of my life, I become more sensitive to quiet things, and I can observe more of myself in them. There is an old saying that living in this world is as dangerous as walking on fragile ice. However, if one doesn’t value himself that much and see things lightly, there will be no need to be afraid at all. It is like those innocent spirits. Never have they paid attention to the crisis in time.

I wonder if such logic is too passive.