展期 Period：
2024.6.7—2024.7.28
艺术家 Artist：
地点 Venue：
前言 Foreword：
晨光熹微，太阳初升，光斑穿过散漫的树叶照耀在家前面的小河上。今年夏天如这单调的鸟鸣一样显得既简单又跳跃，家就像小河的波浪，波浪是河流的呼吸声，望向这波光粼粼的小河碎片，家的景色也变得明亮、复杂起来。
太阳如幻，当空而照，垂直地俯瞰着波涛起伏的海面，阳光如闪闪的网格将世界笼罩，如飘浮的怀抱。听说小河会用尽全力窜入大海，海浪是大海的呼吸声，家就像大海的波浪，遥远、模糊、抗拒又层层叠叠。迎面而来的时间的光斑折射进房间，去触摸，是梦境的轮廓。梦的景物全部被清清楚楚、细致入微地暴露出来，覆盖在身上的潦草的光里有梦的眼睛，抓住散落的欲望，用自己的声音去说话，牙齿又碰撞在一起了，那是大海里扬起的白帆。翻个身，恍然察觉这是斑澜的记忆发出闪闪的信号。
生活并不是一幅幅均匀装配好的画，生活是一圈又圈明亮的光，照向自己，始终通往意识，包围着我们的是一个半透明的封套，把这种变化多端、不可名状、难以解说的内在精神──不论它显得多么反常和复杂，链接出连绵又漫长的线，是我的毛发，是我回去的地方，伸展，我忘了盛夏来了，拿起枪。
文 / 文静
In the dim light of dawn, the sun rises, and light spots shine through the scattered leaves onto the small river in front of the house. This summer, like the monotonous bird songs, seems both simple and lively. The home is like the waves of the small river, and the waves are the breathing of the river. Looking at the shimmering fragments of this little river, the scenery of home becomes bright and complex.
The sun is illusory, hanging in the sky, overlooking the undulating sea vertically. The sunlight, like a glittering grid, envelops the world, like a floating embrace. It is said that the small river will exert all its strength to rush into the sea, and the waves are the breathing of the sea. The home is like the waves of the sea, distant, blurred, resistant yet layered. The time spots coming towards us refract into the room, and when touched, they outline the contours of dreams. The dreamscape is fully exposed in clear and meticulous detail, covered in the hasty light that has the eyes of the dream. It catches scattered desires, speaking with its own voice, and the teeth collide again, like the white sails rising in the sea. Turning over, suddenly realizing that it is the mottled memories sending out glittering signals.
Life is not a series of uniformly assembled paintings; life is circles of bright light, shining towards oneself, always leading to consciousness. We are surrounded by a semi-transparent envelope, linking this ever-changing, indescribable, inexplicable inner spirit—no matter how abnormal and complex it may seem. These continuous and long lines are my hair, they are the place I return to. Stretching out, I forgot that midsummer has arrived, and I pick up a gun.
Text by Wen Jing
