「Another,another」Yokoego 写真展

三年前的一次旅行里，因为相机的问题，导致胶片无法显影。
底片留下了光和风，丢失了具体的画面，就像是伤口痊愈后留下的疤痕，提醒我再也记不起我看到了什么。
去年上海封控的时候，我有七十多天与外界零接触的状态。
解封后与朋友见面的时候，我很少会提及那段时期的经历。不是避而不谈，而是无从记起。记不得是从哪一刻被抽掉了时间的概念，也想不起痛苦是从哪个节点突然发芽生长。记忆的缺失是时间的伤口，结着痂，没有刻意，却又在意。
生命里有太多的场景，像无法显影的胶片，是模糊的，错失的。隔一段时间再回想的时候，会有一种不确定是否经历过的错觉。
我的情感变成一条模糊的虚线，边缘像晕开的色块，若有若无的勾勒着眼前发生的一切，一切成为了我内心的投影。我渴望拥有树木成林的坚韧，承认自己如鸡蛋般易碎的外壳，羡慕蛛网在荆棘里也能柔软的活着，也想化成一滴水能自由的流向大海。我与我之外的一切存在，相同不相似。
所有的事物都是流动的。那些意料之外的已发生，又或者是存在于脑海的未显影，悄无声息的流淌在我的身边。
即使是模糊的，遗忘的，但它们还是会出现在散步闲聊，睡前故事，一次次又将我与世界联系在一起。

yokoego


During a trip three years ago, a problem with my camera left my film undeveloped.

The negatives retained traces of light and wind, but the images themselves were lost. Like scars left behind after a wound has healed, they remind me that I can no longer remember what I saw.

During the lockdown in Shanghai last year, I spent more than seventy days completely disconnected from the outside world.

When I met friends after the restrictions were lifted, I rarely spoke about that period. It was not that I was avoiding the subject; rather, there was nothing I could recall. I could no longer remember the moment when my sense of time began to disappear, nor could I recall at what point the pain suddenly took root and began to grow. The gaps in memory are wounds left by time. They have scabbed over, unintentional, yet still felt.

There are so many scenes in life that resemble undeveloped film: blurred, missed, lost. When I return to them after some time has passed, I am left with the strange uncertainty of whether they ever happened at all.

My emotions have become a blurred dotted line, their edges like patches of colour bleeding into one another, faintly tracing the things unfolding before me. Everything has become a projection of my inner world. I long for the resilience of a forest of trees, acknowledge the fragile shell of an egg that I inhabit, envy the spiderweb that can live softly among thorns, and wish to become a drop of water, free to flow toward the sea. I exist alongside everything beyond myself, alike, yet never the same.

Everything is in motion. The unexpected things that have already happened, and those that remain undeveloped in my mind, flow silently around me.

Even when blurred, even when forgotten, they still find their way into casual walks and conversations, into bedtime stories. Again and again, they reconnect me with the world.

— yokoego