I always believe words are superior to any image until I saw these photos. An amateur with five-year experience in photography presents his works in a Chinese social website. The moment I finished his words describing his attitude towards photography and his photos about those detailed, easily overlooked momentsin every corner of the world, I saw a so realistic world as amazing as the world that words could create. Probably it is time to change my mind, by correcting my words on superiority. Images and Words are compensation for each other. Together, they open the magic door connecting everyone’s blind life and the incredible gift room that stores all possibilities within and outside of life.
That day I was early in the classroom: the lights are off, there is no one in the room.
I sat in the empty classroom in Amory, hearing the reconstruction sound coming from other room.
I never had the strong desire of running away from the classroom, running away from my books and papers, going outside, meeting people, sitting in a car driving towards nowhere.
I would see a non-academic side of this city, and it may be mysterious and alluring, emitting a fatal temperament.
I would love the illusory reality and embrace my imagined greatest escape.
I just download a Ghost Radar app on my cellphone while reading Beyond the Pleasure Principle. I wonder if ghosts, as beings without physical bodies, still need to have sex. Do they keep the primitive physical desires from their original entity? If they have, it means they also have a willing to keep alive. Is their wish of prolongation of life keeps them haunting around this world? At the same time, when they lingering in this world without getting any expected response from living people, would they still have the feeling that they are alive? If they do, then will this felt state bring them death drive, which in this context should be leave this world forever spiritually?
Anyway, when there is anything happens to someone’s body, thus has a devastating physical impact on him, is this person start being in the similar condition as a ghost? (Say Cotard Delusion).
About more rare psych problems, see http://www.medscape.com/features/slideshow/rare-psych
I don’t like Mark Rothko’s painting. But I appreciates his saying, “When I was a younger man, art was a lonely thing. No galleries, no collectors, no critics, no money. Yet, it was a golden age, for we all had nothing to lose and a vision to gain. Today it is not quite the same. It is a time of tons of verbiage, activity, consumption. Which condition is better for the world at large I shall not venture to discuss. But I do know, that many of those who are driven to this life are desperately searching for those pockets of silence where we can root and grow. We must all hope we find them.”
I confront this quotation in a Chinese article, arguing against Jed Perl’s critic on Chinese contemporary art. When I am alone, sitting by the table and write something flowing by my mind, I can feel the peace and quiet spreading from my heart. I can rarely feel it when I’m being with other people, in the same room, even we don’t talk to each other. But I experienced the same loneliness when I was in MoMA that afternoon, in front of Van Gogh’s Starry Night: the most strange and familiar encounter, the most crowed and quite moment. All those people surrounding that painting, I was standing among those people, feeling a huge distance in between. I’ve been through the same feeling, and I think this is what the so-called “love”. I embraced the paint tracks with my full heart, and kissed the painter gently without letting him realizing it.