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从收到一条航班取消的短信起,我开始了一段自我隔离的行为项目,这是一次我与自身以及故土和解的尝试。在这场迟到的归途和绝对隔离的14天中,对自我存在的质疑以及对未知时间的幻想与等待唤起了我对故土的想象和自身记忆。原本于一月从巴黎飞往武汉的航班,被通知已取消。两个月后,原本停滞的归家计划又重新开启。我购买了三月九号从巴黎飞往上海的航班,并在外地呆了三个多月,六月终于回到武汉。

 

我一直关注日常生活中的微妙时间差异所造成的感知体验,即内在时间。我无论如何都无法想象与填补那些被困在家中的70多个日夜的感受,我意识到唯有将自己的时间偿还给它,还给这个从未让我有故土感的城市,才能弥补那些因缺失而阻断的想象。

 

在这个十四天的项目中,我将自己置身于没有时间参考的房中,不用手机电脑,没有时钟,只留下一块早已停在某年某月的不知是上午还是下午的五点十分的手表,以及被我设置成2020年1月1日的监控时间。窗外环境的声响以及人发出的声音是我唯一能模糊判断时间的依据。我在这间房内重复地做着相同的事情,起床、写作阅读、抽烟、吃简单的食物、睡觉、等待。从事物中抽离自身迫使我回到自我的意识中,在一种没有对象参考物的时间中,一种无中去证明自己的存在。

This performance project of self-isolation began from a text message notifying the cancellation of my flight, which was an attempt for reconciliation between myself and my homeland. In this belated homeward journey and this 14-day absolute isolation, the queries about self-existence and the fantasy and waiting for the unknown time have evoked my imagination and memory of the homeland. The flight from Paris to Wuhan in January was informed to be cancelled. Two months later, the stalled homecoming plan was re-started. I bought a flight ticket from Paris to Shanghai on 9th, March and stayed in Shanghai for more than three months, then finally returned to Wuhan in June.

I have always paid attention to the perception and experience brought by subtle time differences in daily life, which could be seen as the inner time. I couldn’t imagine and make up the feelings of the period when trapped in a home for more than 70 days and nights. I have realised that the only way to make up for the missing and obstructed imagination is repaying my time to this city which I have no nostalgia for.


In this 14-day project, I put myself in a room with no time reference, no cell phone, no computer, no clock, only a watch that had stopped long ago at 5:10 am or pm of a certain year and month, and the time of a monitor that I had set to January 1, 2020. The ambient sounds outside the window and the sounds people made were the only basis I had for vaguely determining the time. I did the same things over and over again in this room, got up, wrote and read, smoked, ate simple foods, slept, and waited. Removing myself from things forced me to return to the consciousness of the self, to prove my existence in a time without objective reference, in a kind of nothingness.

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我每天都会写一封信,从门缝中塞出,隔天由亲人随机寄给我的某位朋友。一共14封信件,我每天都会在信被塞出门缝前的时刻拍摄下它们的照片,并记录下我所认为的“此刻”时间。

这些信就像一本非虚构叙述集,信中出现的我、你和她都是作者本人。作者让三个人彼此对话,文字是这个行为中最重要的一个部分,它们连接了我的过去和现在,真实和想象。当真实的物件和过去的图片出现在这些文字旁时,当我们看到十年前散落在故土家宅的花瓣出现在大洋彼岸的欧洲时,当我们看见信件中的物件真实存在时,文字间隐藏的是真实的记忆还是虚构的幻想?我们的时间被停留在了哪个时刻?

Every day, I wrote a letter that was tucked out through the door and sent randomly to one of my friends by my relative the next day. There were 14 letters in total, and I took pictures of them every day at the moment before they were tucked out, and noted down the time that I thought was the “here and now”.

These letters are like a collection of non-fiction narratives in which I, you and she appear as the author herself. The author makes three people dialogue with each other, and the texts are one of the most significant parts of this act, they bridge my past and present, the real and the imaginary. When real objects and images from the past appear next to these words, when we see the petals of flowers scattered in my family house in the hometown ten years ago appear across the ocean in Europe, when we see that real objects are hidden in the letters, is it a real memory or a fictitious imagination that is hidden between the words? At which moment was our time stopped?

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