这次回国出差恰逢中秋节,在一个阳光明媚的星期五。今年第六次来北京,从深冬的阴霾到初秋的微凉,从怀柔的群山环湖到国贸的车水马龙,我印象中浓重的雾霾早已不复存在。也许只是巧合,也许只是许多存在的期限被我们主观无限拉长,最终无法分辨哪部分是现实,哪部分是想象。
星期六被邀请去参加一对双胞胎的百日宴。见到一些曾经街旁团队的核心成员,在二零一一年曾与我朝夕相处、吃喝玩乐。我想那是我最快乐的时光之一。即便我需要每天拖着沉重的索尼超大屏笔记本来往于二号线东直门和建国门之间,即便我需要每隔一个周六上班,即便我领着微不足道的薪资却常常需要去昂贵的餐馆和酒吧消费。现在大家大多都已成家,许多也有了小孩。宴席接近尾声,大多有家室带小孩的人都已离去,餐厅里剩下不过二十个人。YC的弟弟带了一把吉他和一只没有明显扩音作用的麦克风,Bill和Fred说,Pri来弹唱一首吧。于是我打开手机找到歌词(我不知道为什么我永远都记不住歌词),开始唱了起来。吉他并没有调准,但我想这也无妨。虽然起低了至少两个调,我还是坚持唱完了Towards The Sun,大家给面子地又录像又鼓掌。旁边一桌坐了三四个人,也很认真地听完了我唱歌,然后其中一个男生问我,你是专业的吗?我没有忍住哈哈哈哈地笑了起来。感觉好久没有这样发自肺腑地开心了。 某天下午打开朋友圈,发现好多人都在转发周杰伦的新歌,说好不哭,都在边听边哭。晚上回到酒店已经是十点多,赶快打开视频听歌。事实是,我并没有听哭,也并没有觉得这首歌有什么特别出彩或者特别感人的地方。但我还是听了好多遍,生怕自己可能错过什么重要的细节。其实喜欢一首歌,只要喜欢唱歌的人(尤其是当唱歌的人也是写歌的人)就够了。我这一代人,又有几个不爱周杰伦呢。没有他,就没有我们一半的青春。 周四一早我自己一个人先离开北京。我让礼宾部小哥帮我叫了一辆车,因为我在APP商店里始终没有找到正确版本的APP。在机场高速上我边听说好不哭边看向窗外,窗外道路两侧刚好是绵延的树林,透过黑色车窗玻璃外面的世界显现出一种凄凉的灰色。真的已经到秋天了吗,我还是不太确定。高空中有一轮巨大的太阳,剧烈的白色光芒透过车窗演变成一种无法描述的彩色,像是一条彩虹围绕在太阳的周围。这轮太阳跟随着我的车穿过密密的树林,在树枝间忽隐忽现。我很想把这种彩色记录下来发给谁看,谁都可以,一个平凡周四上午的小确幸。遗憾的是,照片与视频都无法复制这样的颜色。我想我应该把它画下来,尽可能还原我看到它的原貌。 可能也是因此,我们才需要画家吧。
1 Comment
I think I learned what love is yesterday.
I’ve read a peculiar set of books this year up till now. A range from You Are a Badass at Making Money (cliché commercial self-help book with a very green eye-catching cover; honestly, I picked it up from a store and paid the full price for it - what we in Chinese refer to as “tax for low IQ”, meaning you pay for something completely unworthy because you are stupid enough to fall for it - because I saw it on some list of recommended finance books; you can only imagine how I felt while reading it, especially having to painfully go through the language its author opted to use) to Shooting an Elephant (well, written by George Orwell, who like many distinguished writers in different times, gained his sophistication and ability to look at issues dialectically from copious amount of traveling and seeing how other people live and speak). From The Geography of Thought (lots of it is common sense to me but a person should really have some idea of what’s covered in this book to claim to be an expert in the other culture; cultural difference is beyond what translated language can convey, and language is the product and representation of how a cultural group thinks) to Becoming (a surprisingly touching read - there is something very compelling and relatable in the stories Michelle tells and she makes you believe a little bit more that changes towards the better are possible in this world). From The Fire Next Time (I need to understand the American history more to be able to fully comprehend this book; it’s a direct and honest account of the race problems in America and offers solutions that might still be relevant today) to A Heart So White (written in a stream of consciousness style that I happen to be able to follow well; the main plot revolves around marriage and relationship but it travels through time and invites readers to contemplate on right and wrong and the fine line in between and the intertwining of our imagination and reality). And some more. Then a few days ago I started reading Reckless Daughter by David Yaffe, a portrait of Joni Mitchell. I’m still in the first few chapters and so far I enjoy it a lot. She is one of the most talented and poetic folk musicians, and she actually started out as a painter. She said, I sing my sorrow and paint my joy. Believe it or not, I can relate to that. In the middle of the book, there are some photos from different times of her life with the presence of different people. She has had many lovers. One pictures was a close shot of Joni and Graham Nash, only their faces are showing but they appear to be very intimate. I haven’t reached this part yet, so I don’t know what exactly happened. I just finished the part with Leonard Cohen. In the caption of this photo it writes: “I loved the man, so I can’t say anything bad about him.” Love is not being able to say anything bad about that person. |
Archives
March 2023
Categories
|