1.
I have to make the decision to paint some landscapes.
Like going to work everyday, .
I have to pass those overstuffed strawberries and chickens, .
pass banned books, STDs, myths, .
the beggar husband and wife who sing “Going Back Home,” .
distorted history, criminals on the run like dust.
or tailpipe exhaust, pass those things that have been dug up.
and filled in again and again so that they can’t be leveled, .
Culture Street, Peace Street, immediate quotations, .
unreasonable anger. .
.
2. .
.
I want to paint expressions and gestures, .
not stopping even during my period, .
lest sirens disturb the curve and flow of my brush. .
No matter how the law and justice oppose each other, .
a beautiful woman is still a living miracle, .
she makes life fade the way dye does. .
My good comrade, .
if I could paint you from memory, .
I would always have something to do. .
.
3. .
.
I want to paint a few still lifes, .
sell them cheap so as to survive. .
I took from the wall a few metals of the older generation, .
the backs covered with bright rust stains, .
from the bottom of a chest, I rummage through a pile of red leather certificates, I unscrew the living room’s beacons, .
for the sake of emotion, I arrange them again and again, .
these still lifes of aristocratic decline. .
.
4. .
.
No light, no light, .
colors seem like conversations in sleep. .
At night, I squeeze black and white directly on the canvas. .
White, spread blood, .
black, an explosion, .
the gray tune in the middle like abstract government. .
.
5. .
.
Sometimes, I paint naked voices. .
When the news report sends out signals, .
on the double bed I still hear venders hawking their wares, .
and recognize “Amsterdam’s River” .
in a flash—“the ocean’s great ebb and flow.” .
Some say: painting debauches people. .
I’ll just keep on being debauched. .
.
6. .
.
If I still have the strength, still have the strength.
I will send one to you. The painting .
has no title and no signature, .
like yet another exile. .
trans. Eleanor Goodman and Wang Ao.
《绘画生涯》
宇向
一
我得下决心去画一些户外景色。
就像每天上班，
必须经过那些臃肿的草莓和鸡，
经过禁书、性病、传说、
唱“回家看看”的乞丐夫妻、
篡改的历史、尘土或尾气般的
流窜犯，经过那些被一次一次挖开、
填平，结果再也添不平的
文化路、和平路、即时语录、
无端的愤怒……
二
我要去画表情和姿态,
在经期也不能停止，
以免警笛干扰笔尖的弯度和走向。
无论律法和公正如何背道而弛,
美女仍是一个活生生的奇迹，
她让生活像颜料一样消耗殆尽。
我的好同志，
只要我能在记忆中将你画出来，
那么我就永远有事可做。
三
我要画一些静物，
廉价卖掉，用以糊口。
我从墙上取下前辈的奖牌和勋章，
上面布满辉煌的锈迹,
从箱底翻出一摞红皮证书,
再将客厅的指路明灯拧下,
为了抒情，我一遍一遍摆放它们，
这些没落贵族般的静物。
四
没有光线，没有光线，
色彩像睡眠里的对话。
夜里，我直接将黑与白挤到画布上。
白，涂抹鲜血，
黑，爆炸，
中间的灰调子近似于抽象的政府。
五
有时，我画赤裸裸的声音。
当新闻联播里传出风声，
我仍听到双人床上的叫卖，
并在《阿姆斯特丹的河流》里
瞬间认出——“大海的巨大徘徊”
有人说：绘画使人堕落。
我就继续堕落
六
如果我还有力气，还有力气，
我会寄一幅给你。画面上
没有标题也没有签名，
像一个又一个流亡者。
(Read Eleanor Goodman's interview with Yu Xiang here.)
