一如往常
by side
攝影書、文字遊戲｜萬華華西街現地發表
看著就把它想成了藝術，一些忘記說服的相片，聚集成一次遇到「勿忘我」的街頭錄像，作者匿名且不知所以然，那麼那個知所以然的，或許只有一個時候、後來的這本書和它將要遇到的雙手。
萬華華西街的路裡面懸掛許多應該要播放觀光廣告的屏幕，它們卻一鼓作氣又很顯然地不懂得說服旅客，最後變成無意義的交集，而我把它們都看成了錄像作品。
開始做藝術的幾年，手機睡著一群自生活取材的草稿，它們聚集成一種厚度，卻又薄薄地不懂得如何回答，時常想藝術的這件事，也不一定注定能在日子裡成形，有待於偶然，好朋友告訴我：「若偶然回應你，那就是真愛。」
好吧，我幾乎相信他。
almost…
（多麼寬敞又精緻的說法。）
於是我做了一些後來成為的作品，因為珍惜著這些日常，特別在那些總總不可見之後的暫時固定更顯得可貴，仍沉迷於偶然的另一向度，因而那些以為不見的，有一天突然知曉那是在書櫃和口吻之間。
我幾乎可以相信時間。
你怎能不覺得它可愛，一如往常。
photobook, word play｜Huaxi St, Wanhua District (site-specific project)
When I look at what I’m being surrounded with in my daily, I think of art. Some pictures taken without an assigned topic to convince, gathered themselves into the video recording of the time the words “Do not forget me”, seemingly appeared serendipitously on the street. The author is anonymous, and without an objective. Perhaps the only ones who know the objective may only be a moment in time, the book itself, as well as the hands that will possess it one day.
Many screens hang in the streets of Huaxi Street in Wanhua that are intended to display tourist advertisements, but they are so aggressively and obviously unable to convince visitors, to a degree where they intersect and take form into an assemble of meaninglessness. I see them, imagining them all as video projects.
A few years since I started to experiment with art, a series of drafts taken from life were buried, almost dormant, in my cellphone. They eventually gathered into an interesting kind of opacity, yet they were too flimsy to be an adequate subject to convince an answer. I often thought about art, something that is not necessarily destined to take shape in a day. A friend once told me, “If the odds reply to you with an answer, it must be true love.”
Well, I pretty much believed him.
Almost...
(What a spacious and, at the same time, delicate, way of putting it.)
I created pieces and fragments of my daily experiences, cherishing them in my collection. Especially the ones that are fixated temporarily, a long time coming after all the times I see them as invisible. Indulging in the other side of serendipity, what I thought was invisible, suddenly made themselves known to me one day, between bookcases and chatters between friends.
I could almost believe in time.
How can you not find it endearing, as always?