[after 5pm]
i see families and friends walking around the space. people reunion when things tend to the end.
reading pace is much more slower than before. and it keeps longer.
i may never know those who are wandering around, around me, out of my peripheral vision, might also be the listener. they are listening without approaching me.
[around 5pm]
[around 4pm]
[around 3pm]
i see her from a distance, with a shot brown hair and two big backpacks on her body. closer, i notice she is wearing dangling star-shaped earrings. the red glasses makes me think of my own, the one i would wear once finishing performance these days. after reading the camera paper, agreement and the statement, without much hesitation, she approaches to me, sitting down, taking off her two bags on the floor, grabbing a notebook and a pen, and starts to listen. i have a feeling that i must tell her something. i am guessing, or say, i wish, this would be a longer duration of listening. it lasts for about 15 minutes. i try to identify her writing or drawing every time when i look up, but i fail. most of the time, she is slight lean down her head, holding the pen. she starts writing/drawing on the left top of a new page. i am questioning if the content is interesting enough to keep her writing/drawing, nevertheless the text is written and confirmed, no valid room for adjustment. so i slow down my reading more, hoping to keep her stay. word by word, pointing out each sentence, i try my best to make every single word as accessible as i could to her. i am peeling off the content, showing it nakedly to her. initially, i would care about her writing/drawing and feel satisfied when her pen is leaving some traces on the notebook. time is forwarding, i gradually ignore her pen. i want to see her face and eyes more. people around us are talking, the louder they are, the deeper and stronger of the silence between me and her i can perceive. a clear shell is forming, sheltering us. her face is calm, sometimes showing a faint smile when i look up at her eyes. the reading is slower and slower, firmly. i know, i sincerely believe, time is pausing, temporarily capsulated, me and her sitting face to face. i wish it could last even longer.
two men walking by, one in pink pants, another with a green shirt. seeing us, they smile, walking directly to the paintings behind me. then she stands up, putting up her large bags, with a subtle smile, she disappears in my horizon. surroundings surface back.
i see families and friends walking around the space. people reunion when things tend to the end.
reading pace is much more slower than before. and it keeps longer.
i may never know those who are wandering around, around me, out of my peripheral vision, might also be the listener. they are listening without approaching me.
[around 5pm]
Greg sees me from a distance and waves hands to me. he is with some friends. later on, when he gradually approaches my spot, he pauses for a while, then signs and takes shots for me. his writing lasts longer so i was expecting he might write some other words, yet it turns out it’s simply his name. he has passed by and read here before. today is the first time he interacts with it.
my dad is witnessing the above process, sitting on the left side far of the section a bit far away from me. when Greg leaves, he, after some days, he seems make up his mind to use that camera and take pictures for me. (he is the one who bought it for me.)
my dad is witnessing the above process, sitting on the left side far of the section a bit far away from me. when Greg leaves, he, after some days, he seems make up his mind to use that camera and take pictures for me. (he is the one who bought it for me.)
[around 4pm]
Kate coming by. she is wearing a white shirt. she smiles and waves hands to me, faintly, by the time i look up at her while reading. we she reads the camera table, material table, the statement, than coming to my reading table, pausing. we exchange smiles some times. she leaves and wanders to somewhere else. not so long, she returns, continuing standing in the front of the reading table to the left. she is wearing a white shirt and a jeans. her smile makes me think of our conversation in early april.
George is wearing a purple t-shirt, a man with grey hair. he stands in front of the statement at first, reading while saying hi to me. i wonder if he could recognize my face. as we knew each other as he was the driver i requested on the apps, i was sitting on the backseat. i asked him about the bridge he denied. today i feel he wants to talk me, yet my reading becomes my shield, his vision discourages me to stop reading and interact with the external even if i am still smiling at him sometimes. he comes back and forth to this area several times.
George is wearing a purple t-shirt, a man with grey hair. he stands in front of the statement at first, reading while saying hi to me. i wonder if he could recognize my face. as we knew each other as he was the driver i requested on the apps, i was sitting on the backseat. i asked him about the bridge he denied. today i feel he wants to talk me, yet my reading becomes my shield, his vision discourages me to stop reading and interact with the external even if i am still smiling at him sometimes. he comes back and forth to this area several times.
[around 3pm]
i see her from a distance, with a shot brown hair and two big backpacks on her body. closer, i notice she is wearing dangling star-shaped earrings. the red glasses makes me think of my own, the one i would wear once finishing performance these days. after reading the camera paper, agreement and the statement, without much hesitation, she approaches to me, sitting down, taking off her two bags on the floor, grabbing a notebook and a pen, and starts to listen. i have a feeling that i must tell her something. i am guessing, or say, i wish, this would be a longer duration of listening. it lasts for about 15 minutes. i try to identify her writing or drawing every time when i look up, but i fail. most of the time, she is slight lean down her head, holding the pen. she starts writing/drawing on the left top of a new page. i am questioning if the content is interesting enough to keep her writing/drawing, nevertheless the text is written and confirmed, no valid room for adjustment. so i slow down my reading more, hoping to keep her stay. word by word, pointing out each sentence, i try my best to make every single word as accessible as i could to her. i am peeling off the content, showing it nakedly to her. initially, i would care about her writing/drawing and feel satisfied when her pen is leaving some traces on the notebook. time is forwarding, i gradually ignore her pen. i want to see her face and eyes more. people around us are talking, the louder they are, the deeper and stronger of the silence between me and her i can perceive. a clear shell is forming, sheltering us. her face is calm, sometimes showing a faint smile when i look up at her eyes. the reading is slower and slower, firmly. i know, i sincerely believe, time is pausing, temporarily capsulated, me and her sitting face to face. i wish it could last even longer.
two men walking by, one in pink pants, another with a green shirt. seeing us, they smile, walking directly to the paintings behind me. then she stands up, putting up her large bags, with a subtle smile, she disappears in my horizon. surroundings surface back.
[around 2pm]
a woman in light-green coat is crossing her arms and reading the material table. then she walking across my spot, i look up we exchange smile, i saw her thumb up for a second.
a girl is walking my place. i cannot tell her emotion after seeing my action and the statement. until she ends up at the camera table, then she and her mom are discussing something. very possible, it’s about that camera. i see her moving towards my table, taking photos gently.
a girl is walking my place. i cannot tell her emotion after seeing my action and the statement. until she ends up at the camera table, then she and her mom are discussing something. very possible, it’s about that camera. i see her moving towards my table, taking photos gently.
[around 1pm]
a woman in all white leaves her name and takes pictures for me. her partner is standing by, waiting for her, seems patiently.
[around 12:30pm]
i take off my shoes as usual, instead of starting reading, i am wandering around the pieces next to me. i look close to the nails penetrates into the wall deeply (Nahom’s). i adjust my body to see through the holes at different altitudes on the black paper wall (Longwen Miao’s). lights being covered, lights coming through, lights see us through a hole. i think i shall pause reading and walk to these pieces sometimes if needed.
photo by an observer on 5.28