Winter Whispers
Wen / Feng Jicai
Every time it comes to winter, you can really touch the years. The year is the dividing line in the middle of winter. With this demarcation, I felt that the years were getting shorter and shorter until there were not many left! After the new year, suddenly there are a lot of days, becoming a rich man of time, and suddenly there is really something to do.
Years are calculated in terms of time. So where is the time? On a clock, on a calendar, or in the sunlight in front of a window?
Sunshine after snow, Feng Jicai, 2010
The windows are the most charming frames of the house. The weather changes the scenery in the frame. On those days when winter was at its strongest, the heat in the house and the sunlight outside the window worked together to melt the ice and snow frozen on the glass; it always melted first from the middle and spread to all sides. Through this wonderful ice cave, I found that the world of the harsh winter was the brightest. In the summer of that kind of youth, there are always shadows and shadows, but the greenery is dark. How could the grove have such a light? I suddenly became respectful of the concept of the old man. Only by reading all the leaves of life and taking off the years of life will there be as clear as the grove in front of you. Only with this thoroughness can there be this boundless peace. Tranquility is not sleepiness, but a broad and abundant self-enjoyment. The only self-enjoyment that the Creator has in the world is the true happiness of life.
Silence, Feng Jicai, 1994
My friend brought me a pot of "incense sticks" and put them on my windowsill and said, "Look, what a beautiful big leaf!" ”
The leaves are like big green hands, stretching out for people to admire. In the backlight, its leaf tendons stretch out the lines that are comfortable and elegant. A strange feeling appeared! The cold occupies the window, but the rich spring is comfortable in my room.
Ever since I had this "incense stick", I have discovered that my study has such a brilliant sunshine. It shines in and fills every leaf and every leaf stem, making them as pure, bright, and holy as jasper. I also saw the green juice flowing in the bright leaves. This juice is blood. Human blood is bright red, plant blood is turquoise, and the blood of the heart is transparent, because the purity of the world comes from the transparency of the heart. But why do we each say we are pure, while the whole world remains in chaos?
Xuecun, Feng Jicai, 2008
I also found that this bright leaf is not to show its existence, but to confirm the brightness of the sun, the charm of the sun, the magic of the sun. Everything confirms the existence of another thing at the same time. The appearance of greatness shows the omnipresence of the mediocre; the farther apart the lovers, the more they show that their hearts are not separated at all; don't the evil words of the villains just express your unattainable and unattainable? And what the liar cannot deceive from you is your incomparably precious innocence. Is the old man's life getting shorter and shorter, or is the path of his life getting longer and longer? Is the measure of life its length, or its width and depth?
Muraguchi, Feng Jicai, 2008
In winter, the Sun's orbit around the Earth becomes oblique and low. In the summer, the sun's feet stood on my windowsill at most, but now it drove straight in, straight into the wall to my north. A wooden Buddha of the Tang Dynasty has been standing in the shadows meditating, and now smiling silently in front of a beam of light.
The sunlight will also fill my world, and it will turn into a shimmering mist of light, soaking into the dark places around it. The shadow is persistent and mischievous, and wherever the sun shines, it immediately hides behind the light. And the darker the place, the more you can see the dust that is shining in the sun. This puzzled me: Where is the boundary between darkness and light? What about the boundary between night and morning light? Comes from the first cry of an early waking bird... The cry was unusually clear from being moistened by the morning dew.
Old husband and wife, Feng Jicai, 1991
However, there is a kind of light that can penetrate the claustrophobic darkness, and that is the glittering sound emanating from the speaker. Rubenstein's hand is not playing the piano, but groping your mind; he is also thinking with his hands, sensing with his hands, touching colors with his hands, testing the most sensitive understandings of the world of life with his hands... The sound of the piano is a different bright color, they are like a beam of light that is clearly extinguished, strong and weak, scattered in space! The melodic fragments resemble some golden bird, flapping its wings and flying into the shadows. Sometimes, in a roar, it turns off the lights of the whole earth or creates a brilliant sun. I wrote a new year's card to a frustrated friend from afar:
All the comfort you can get is in the music.
Behind the tree is the sun, Feng Jicai, 1991
The most inexplicable thing in winter is the sky.
In the middle of summer, sometimes dark clouds are everywhere, and the last blue sky that is about to be engulfed by the mighty clouds is like a hole in the sky, infinitely far-reaching. And now the whole sky is like this, unfolding endlessly above your head! Empty, lofty, clear and solemn! Except for the rare days of snow, most of the time there is not even a little cloud, and the birds do not dare to fly up, not only because of its cold silhouette, but because it is so big... It's so big that you feel small as soon as you look up. Only at night, in the cold sky, there are stars twinkling. This star is the station where the universe lights up. Who has been running non-stop from one station to the next? For whom do you send letters? For that eternal love in the universe?
I watched the footsteps of winter on the earth to see how it went step by step, in which direction to spring.
1995.12.28 First Draft
Second draft on January 18, 1996