一天的长度  The Length Of A Day

单频录像,彩色,有声  Single channel video, color, sound  86400"  2017



一天的长度/


就像任何一天,二零一七年九月四日也有八万六千四百秒,而Yan选择了这天杀死自己。

往她身旁放花时,我记起四号那天自己很晚起床,在离家很远的地方看了个展览,为一幅画上保护漆。那星期天鸽、帕卡和玛娃一个接一个地吹过香港,回家的路上都是断树。

我知道不少人为这一天留下了记录,Flickr上有八十多万张相片。我亦知道,更多的相片还埋在记忆卡的深层,或者永不会再被打开。

我知道十二点有个男人在陆运会上投出铁球。同时,五个女人在亭园中来来回回地合照,重覆合照。金发女孩站在自己的X光片旁边。三点,...... 五点,一个人为自己经过的每一间洋房和小路拍照,很多镜头拍了两次。

我知道,世界假如存在着一双全知的眼,它会有多困惑: 家庭聚餐常常被无关痛痒的支节打断,夹带马路和青蛙; 专心自然风光的镜头前面,不时走过火车、着火的房间、漫长而无谓的会议。 我知道在我们中间永远隔着一条无法被跨越的深河。当一个人在这边准备放弃世界,不远处的另一头,一个人好奇地打量着地上的积水。又或者,当镜头那边的人兴奋地记录着自身的历险,荧幕另一面的我(或你)打着呵欠。

我们在 Yan前面沉默, 她在自已的相片里笑得过火。她咀角上扬,洋洋得意,像个做了坏事又不告诉你的孩子。而我转身又回到我的生活,继续迷路,找门匙,解开手上扭作一团的耳机线。



Length Of A Day /


As any day goes on, the date of 4th September, 2017 also has 86,400 seconds. It is on this day that Yan chose to kill herself.

As I put flowers beside her, I remembered I got up very late on that very day, watching a show at a very faraway place, and varnished a painting. Hato, Pakhar and Mawar swept across Hong Kong one by one in that week, leaving shattered branches on the way home.

I know a few people have saved a record for this day, which can be proved by more than 800,000 pictures on Flicker. I am also aware that more pictures have been buried beneath the memory cards which may never been opened again.

I know at the point of 12’o clock a man is throwing the iron ball in a sport meeting. At the same time, five women are constantly taking photos together at the pavilion of a park, repetitively. The blonde lady is standing next to her own X-ray film. At the direction of 3…5’o clock, someone is taking photos of every western house and path he has passed by, whose scenes have been taken twice.

I know that how confused it will be if there was a pair of almighty eyes in the world---- the family dinner is often suspended by trivial fragments mixed with frogs and roads; focusing upon the shot of scenery, while walking through the train, the flaming room, the endless and senseless meeting. I understand there is a deep river between us forever that can not be crossed. When someone is ready to give up the world here, there is another person gazing at the puddle of water curiously not faraway from. Furthermore, you or me is yawning before the opposite screen when someone else is recording his adventure excitedly on the other side.

We choose to keep silent before Yan who is laughing forcefully in her own photo. She is smiling complacently, like a child who has done a bad thing but refuses to tell you. And I, turn back into my life again, keeping lost and finding my key, and unravel the twisting earphone wires on my hand.