“行”胜于“言”

其实搬了有半年多，只是一时也没想起来发个通告~

补一下哈~

现在就呆在豆瓣,写的也少:viole nafuland

http://www.douban.com/people/nafuland/

SUN FLOWERS BY HENRY MATISSE

M城每天都在狂欢。和书上描绘的一样。少女、孩童或是老者，都着奇装异服，日复一日地奔跑、欢叫。M城没有节日，只有狂欢；没有内容，只有形式。

这个城市给我的第一印象如此奇特，除了疯狂的人群外，还有它捉摸不定的城市形象。没有一幢房屋拥有统一的风格，甚至具体到一扇窗，也镶嵌着不同颜色的玻璃，或者不同的造型。本应笔直的马路往往修到一半，突然改道转弯。写着面包房的店铺或许是打锁的，装修成剧院的也许只是家面馆。

狂欢行至午夜。游行的队伍渐渐在中心广场聚拢。我预感到有事情将发生，看着喧嚣的人群慢慢平息。很快，我便惊讶于M城人丰富而多变的情感。狂欢的场面俨然已换成战士出征前的告别仪式。情侣间的抱头痛苦比比皆是。我突然发现自己陷落在夫妻间的难舍难分、孩童间的依依惜别中。……这个场景是我的《城市指南》里未曾读到过的。

子夜的钟声响起。烟火照亮了M城的每一条街巷。我清楚地看到夜空中发亮的文字“ONE DAY MEMORY”。

一天记忆。
M城的人原来只拥有“一天记忆”。今天不记得昨天，明天里没有今天。每天都是完全崭新的一天。没有曾经，没有过去。这似乎是很多人的梦想，M城的人便是生活在这样的梦想里。ONE DAY MEMORY。所有情感只拥有一天的保鲜。一天里，爱情需要经历相恋、热恋到分别，亲情需要经历如同死别的生离。明天，他和她又将是陌路。或许他们还会在明天里重新上演今天的悲喜剧，或许日子就这么一天天流逝。无论是否结婚，明天他们/她们都将是自由的，他们/她们必须重新出发寻找各自的爱人。狂欢，是他们热切的形式，在眼花缭乱的伪装背后，寻找曾经在某一时刻彼此倾慕的心灵。

所有的欢笑与伤痛都随着午夜的钟响烟消云散。M城人不懂什么恩怨、誓言、永远。他们只能在不断变换起点的过程中走向终点。得到或是失去，时限都是一天。ONE DAY MEMORY。往前看，是未知；往后看，完全空白。

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昨天在手机报里读到一则新闻，世上竟然还有只拥有几分钟记忆的人。于是想起自己的某一篇“看不见的城市”之“ONE DAY MEMORY”。用它来欢送2008年，这个好像比一个世纪还要长的年份。希望所有曾受到2008年伤害的人们，都能住进“ONE DAY MEMORY”城，在遗忘中将过往抹去，让生活真正如“崭新”二字。如果生命可以再生，那兜率天或西方净土都会面临人口饥荒。如果生命可以重生，我们应该满怀感激的伸手拥抱新的希望。

晚上在听王健的Baroque Album时，莫名想到Matisse的手撕纸上的水彩画。虽然他们一个还正处在生命力旺盛期，而另一个作于行将朽木之时，但两者都充满春天般勃勃的生机。

一月 不带入下个世纪

2008 向大师致敬

“我们要坚持说信仰，这超越宗教意义的信仰，……”

筹办“光流末季”中原石窟寺影展，预示这是被“信仰”包围的一年，也是我因这美好而开始努力传播的第一年。

书隐楼的临终关怀。生活中的惊喜属于热爱它的人们，我们从来不曾放弃在灰色城市里寻找真爱的信心。于是，我们不断收获，并因此更加勤奋。

以美育代替宗教。如果是我祥林嫂，这句话可以作为“我家小毛”的替代品。眼看蔡先生诞辰141周年即将到来，再一次提醒自己，什么是未竟之事。梦想无限接近，即便不会实现，也要代代相传。

雪灾。这是偏离轨道的世界给我们的第一击。如果早知道这仅仅是一场预演，也许我会做得更认真一些，也可以为后来多准备一些。人如鸿毛，命若野草。我们如不互相珍惜，又怎能承载得起生死。

偶像辞世。杨仁恺先生走于丁亥之末，大米逝世700周年。手机里依然保存着一条短信，他说：“冬季，就是这样一个逝去的季节。”时间停留在2008年1月31日。

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用了农历年做题目，写的却是公历年的故事。从丁亥到戊子，我慢慢明白这个世界已经偏离自己的轨道，未来从最初的期待逐渐变成各类现实，无论你是否愿意接受，它都是一件硬塞在你怀里、无法拒绝的礼物。时光走到岁末，想要回过头去再走一遍，看看什么是无可挽回的，什么是值得留恋的，什么是不应该被带入下个世纪的……

（待续）

Chinese pagoda Kew Garden,London,UK,which built by William Chambers,1759

William Chambers, A Dissertation on Oriental Gardening (London, 1772)

Amongst the decorative arts, there is none of which the influence is so extensive as that of Gardening. The productions of other arts have their separate classes of admirers, who alone relish or set any great value upon them; to the rest of the world they are indifferent, sometimes disgusting. A building affords no pleasure to the generality of men, but what results from the grandeur of the object, or the value of its materials; nor doth a picture affect them, but by its resemblance to life. A thousand other beauties, of a higher kind, are lost upon them; for in Architecture, in Painting, and indeed in most other arts, men must learn before they can admire; their pleasure keeps pace with their judgement and it is only by knowing much, that they can be highly delighted. [p. i]

But gardening is of a different nature; its dominion is general; its effects upon the human mind certain and invariable; without any previous information, without being taught; al men are delighted with the gay luxuriant scenery of summer, and depressed at the dismal aspects of autumnal prospects; the charms of cultivation are equally sensible to the ignorant and the learned, and they are equally disgusted at th rudeness of neglected nature; lawns, woods, shrubberies, rivers and mountains, affect them both in the same manner; and every combination of these will excite similar sensations in the minds of both.

Nor are the productions of this At less permanent than general in their effects. Pictures, statues, buildings, soon glut the sight, and grow indifferent to the spectator; but in gardens there is a continual state of fluctuations that leaves no room for satiety; the progress of vegetations, the vicissitudes of sea ons, the changes of the weather, the different directions of the sun, the passage of clouds, the agitation and founds produced by winds, [p. ii] together with the accidental intervention of living or moving objects, vary the appearance so often, and so considerably, that it is almost impossible to be cloyed, even with the same prospects.

Is it not singular then, that an Art with which a considerable part of our enjoyments is so universally connected, should have no regular professor in our quarter of the world? Upon the continent it is a collateral branch of the architect\’s employment, who, immersed in the study and avocations of his own profession, finds no leisure for other disquisitions; and, in this island, it is abandoned to kitchen gardeners, well skilled in the culture of sallads, but little acquainted with the principles of Ornamental Gardening. It cannot be expected that men uneducated, and doomed by their condition to waste the vigor of life in hard labour, should ever go far in so refined, so difficult a pursuit.

To this unaccountable want of regular masters may, in a great measure, be ascribed the scarcity of perfect [p. iii] gardens. There are indeed very few in our part of the globe wherein nature has been improved to the best advantage, or art employed with the soundest judgement. The gardens of Italy, France, Germany, Spain, and of all other countries where the antient style still prevails, are in general mere cities of verdure; the walks are like streets conducted in strait lines, regularly diverging from different large open spaces, resembling public squares; and the hedges with which they are bordered, are raised, in imitation of walls, adorned with pilasters, niches, windows and doors, or cut into colonnades, arcades and porticoes; all the detached trees are shaped into obelisks, pyramids and vases; and all the recesses in the thickets hear the names and forms of theatres, amphitheatres, temples, banqueting hails, ball rooms, cabinets and saloons. The streets and squares are well manned with statues of marble or lead, ranged in regular lines, like soldiers at a procession; which, to make them more natural, are sometimes painted in proper colours, and finely gilt. The lakes and rivers are confined by quais of hewn stone, and taught to flow in geometrick order; [p. iv] and the cascades glide from the height by many a succession of marble steps; not a twig is suffered to grow as nature directs; nor is a form admitted but what is scientific, and determinable by the line or compass.

In England, where this antient style is held in detestation, and where, in opposition to the rest of Europe, a new manner is universally adopted, in which no appearance of art is tolerated, our gardens differ very little from common fields, so closely is common nature copied in most of them; there is generally so little variety in the objects, such a poverty of imagination , in the contrivance, and of art in the arrangement, that these compositions rather appear the offspring of chance than design; and a stranger is often at a loss to know whether he be walking in a meadow, or in a pleasure ground, made and kept at a very considerable expense; he sees nothing to amuse him, nothing to excite his curiosity, nor any thing to keep up his attention. At his first entrance, he is treated with the sight of a large green field, scattered over with a few straggling trees, and verged with a confused border [p. v] of little shrubs and flowers; upon farther inspection, he finds a little serpentine path, twining in regular eses amongst the shrubs of the border, upon which he is to go round, to look on one side at what he has already seen, the large green field; and on the other side at the boundary, which is never more than a few yards from him, and always obtruding upon his fight; from time to time he perceives a little seat or temple stuck up against the wall; he rejoices at the discovery, sits down, rests his wearied limbs, and then reels on again, cursing the line of beauty, till spent with fatigue, half roasted by the sun, for there is never any shade, and tired for want of entertainment, he resolves to see no more; vain resolution! there is but one path; he must either drag on to the end, or return back by the tedious way he came.

Such is the favourite plan of all our smaller gardens; and our larger works are only a repetition of the small ones; more green fields, more shrubberies, more serpentine walks, and more feats; like the honest batchelor\’s [p. vi] feast, which consisted in nothing but a multiplication of his own dinner; three legs of mutton and turneps, three roasted geese, and three buttered apple-pies.

It is I think obvious that neither the artful nor the simple style of Gardening here mentioned, is right; the one being too extravagant a deviation from nature, the other too scrupulous an adherence to her. One manner is absurd; the other insipid and vulgar; a judicious mixture of both would certainly be more perfect than either.

But how this union can be effected, is difficult to say. The men of art, and the friends of nature, are equally violent in defence of their favourite system; and, like all other partizans, loth to give up any thing, however unreasonable.

Such a coalition is therefore now not to be expected; whoever should be bold enough to attempt it, would probably incur the censure of both sides, without re- [p. vii] forming either; and consequently prejudice himself, without doing service to the Art.

But though it might be impertinent as well as useless to start a new system of one\’s own, it cannot be improper, nor totally unserviceable, to publish that of others; especially of a people whose skill in Gardening has often been the subject of praise; and whose manner has been set up amongst as as the standard of imitation, without ever having been properly defined. It is a common saying, That from the worst things some good may be extracted; and even if what I have to relate should be inferior to what is already known, yet surely some useful hints may be collected from it.

I may therefore, without danger to myself, and it si hoped without offence to others, offer the following account of the Chinese manner of Gardening; which is collected from my own observations in China, from conversations with their Artists, and remarks transmitted to me at different times by travellers. A sketch of what [p. viii] I have now attempted to finish, was published some years ago; and the favourable reception granted to that little performance, induced me to collect materials for this.

Whether the Chinese manner of Gardening be better or worse than those now in use amongst the Europeans, I will not determine; comparison is the surest as well as the easiest test of truth; it is in every man\’s power to compare and to judge for himself. — Should the present publication contain any thing useful, my purpose will be fully answered; if not, it may perhaps afford some little entertainment, or serve at worst to kill an idle hour.

I must not enter upon my subject, without apologizing for the liberties here taken with our English Gardens; there are, indeed, several that do not come within the compass of my description; some of which were laid out by their owners, who are as eminently skilled in Gardening, as in many other branches of polite knowledge; the rest owe most of their excellence to nature, and are, [p. ix] upon the whole, very little improved by the interposition of art; which, though it may have heightened some of their beauties, has totally robbed them of many others.

It would be tedious to enumerate all the errors of a false taste; but the havock it has made in our old plantations, must ever be remembered with indignation; te ax has often, in one day, laid waste the growth of several ages; and thousands of venerable plants, whole woods of them, have been swept away, to make room for a little grass, and a few American weeds. Our virtuosi have scarcely left an acre of shade, nor three trees growing in a line, from the Land\’s-end to the Tweed; and if their humour for devastation continues to rage much longer, there will not be a forest-tree left standing in the whole kingdom.

See more on:http://ringmar.net/europeanfury/?page_id=1212

凌晨1点20，有人在线上问我，你喜欢看电影么？

时间究竟意味着什么？意味着我们将做出越来越多的抉择，一一放弃么？时间意味着痛苦将越来越轻，麻木会遍布全身么？我竟然只能祈祷被封存的记忆会因为时间的久远而酿成蜜。一切为了明天的努力，都只是为一个不会到来的明天。因为在“零时间”到来时，你匆忙跨越了昨天的门槛，落下开启明天的钥匙。

你还有面对镜像的勇气，我只会在镜头里寻找过往。我曾想如果每天重复做一遍昨天的事情，会是什么样子？自杀率会下降，交通事故会减少。有些错误还是会犯，有些误会还是会结，有些阴差阳错还是会发生。改变不了的事物发展规律，改变不了的故事结局。

所以每次到达终点时，我总要先转身，然后迈步向前。不是因为前面有更美好的未来，只不过不想在过去里多呆上一分钟。我是不能看背影的，因为你不是彼得潘，没法让我把影子带走留作纪念。一切过去不被允许带入将来，被驯服的狐狸回到群里，你只有在麦浪滚动时，才会想起那个影子，因为再也触摸不到而日渐模糊。

想说鼓励的话，说出来却颇为颓废。你知道的，努力是因为不想荒废自己的人生，付出总有受伤。山野的荆棘扎手，城市的荆棘刺心，留的都是相同的血，愈合也是早晚的事。“你要保守你心，胜过保守一切，因为一生的果效，是由心发出。” （《圣经 箴言》4:23）

Dear BD，我们还是要继续努力的，不是为明天，而是为了心。

有人某天AMXR的跟我说，中国四大天主堂，我们已经具足了，呵呵~~

这个确实不错的说~~