Sunday, July 3, 2016
There have been numerous iterations of the song, I still love the version by the Shirelles. Innocent and sweet, not calculated, exactly how love should be. Tokyo we met again, a weekend well spent at the heritage Tokyo Station Hotel this time. The spectacular architecture exudes elegance and entrancing nostalgia.
那天在東京丸之內的文具行尋寶, 店裏悠悠播著軟軟的樂曲, 乍聽以為是法文香頌, 聽仔細才發覺是填了中文歌詞的老歌Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?
From the ceiling high French window of the room, the hotel guest was able to view the station lobby into the wee hours of the night. There might be one or two lone travelers lingering, pondering, waiting… the existential kneading of human heart.
也在古蹟文化財東京車站飯店住上一個週末, 房間的長窗可靜觀車站大廳, 夜深人靜時望見穿復古裙裝的妙齡女子背倚廊柱, 不知道等待什麼? 許多許多年前, 我曾是她, 場景是初秋紐約Guggenheim美術館, 孤獨心碎的幾小時, 換來大澈大悟, 划算之至 :) 不多久西裝紳士匆匆趕來, 兩人挽手離去, 我微笑了, 心底低喚: Love her please, tomorrow and forever!
Perhaps that's the reason I thought of the ballad. Why? Why do humans love to torture one another with questions that nobody could answer? Nothing is still and everything is in flux. My curious expedition continued as I wandered into the Intermediatheque Museum at the Kitte building. Isles of taxidermy, walls of fossils, and cabinets of specimen in formaldehyde… photography was not allowed so I sketched. Trembling in such sensuality, I caressed death with the tip of my fountain pen.
炎炎午后晃進東大附屬博物館醫學部特展, 墮入異次元洪流, 爬在兩層樓高的巨鱷骨骼... 整面玻璃牆大大小小的怪魚化石... 栩栩如生, 似乎靈光但閃便要活潑奔躍的狡狐追黠兔... 復刻法國收藏家密室的蒐寶閣, 盅盅玻璃罐福馬林浸著相擁的蠑螈, 展著薄翼的飛虎蜥蜴… 忍不住提筆細細描繪, 以指尖愛撫死亡. 另間密室則擺排ㄧ系列精工儀器: 測風向, 測水壓, 測光源. 張張古舊黑白攝影, 是明治維新那位讓峰頂嵐霧迷惑的男人, 雲之伯爵阿部正直, 寫給富士山的封封情書, 怦然心動教人流淚.
Death is the evidence that we once lived and loved. The ephemerality of existence materialized in a shadowbox where a giant male moth, a giant female moth, and the cocoon displayed in vertical succession. Another was the preserved entwining salamanders in sealed glass cloche, I learned the word 'neoteny': to grow up and mature without metamorphosis(!) Pinna Nobilis took my breath away, the grand translucent fragile pen shells were like the two halves of a deeply bruised heart, fastened with brass buckles - a savage installation art. My revelation? Homo sapiens really was no different from the maroon langur :)