鸣洞 ring ring ring hole
由此向东五米外 Part Ⅱ
由此向东五米外 Part Ⅰ
迷踪乱步 walk walking
闪光的巡游 A parade of sparkles
白洞 White Hole
宁静的间隙之中 Interval of silence
变轻 Lightened
双色球 Shuang Se Qiu
片段的出走 Drifting away
戴回家 Wear It Back
每天一首饰 A Hand Work A Day
风滚草 Tumbleweed
数学 Mathematics
暗物质 Dark matter
︎Information
︎Book
︎Instagram
由此向东五米外 eastwards, five meters away Part Ⅰ
这些照片是近几年（2020-2023）集中拍摄的
，
因为疫情期间出行的限制我喜欢上了骑共享单车在城市里探索，拍摄熟悉又陌生的附近，那些人与森林土地山河在长久的共处中达成某种共识的自然
。
那些城市里的树木，我从它们身上看到了流动着的复杂的情感。树木是更为长生的，有一些研究认为树木可以通过根须间的真菌来传递信息，或许他们也可以传递记忆 。 人在自然里选取一块地方围起来，把原本自然的地方变的不自然，又为了人们对自然不可割舍的渴求而移栽树木，花心思掌握技术来照顾树木，给树打针输液让树存活下来，按照我们的喜好修剪树木割掉树冠， 甚至为了控制飞絮让树木绝育 ，人们希望让这块地方成为可控的自然，但是，树总能长出自己的姿态，一切都在控制和失控中不断摇摆。
我在这些不断的摇摆之间的某个点遇到了这些树。 那些看似不完美的枝丫打动着我，它们似乎也映射着我们的处境，照见生活的影子，为心与物的连接创造出悬浮于现实之上的现场。
城市中树木上的人类痕迹，也让我想起奥尔加 · 托卡尔丘克在《白天的房子，夜晚的房子》中写到的一个故事：制造工具的刀具匠在森林里用尽半生开垦，被誉为城市的缔造者。他在森林中央发现了一棵高大，粗壮，挺拔的云杉树，树干中似有一块金属与树木长在了一起，他认为这是神的旨意，大家一致同意在那里建造教堂，直到人们砍倒了那棵大树才将那神秘的金属与树木分开，而那却是一把来自另外一个时代的未被岁月腐蚀的钢刀。
“一棵树死了，另一颗树就会接受它的梦，将这种没有意义，没有印象的梦继续做下去。
所以，树木永远不会死亡” ——奥尔加 · 托卡尔丘克
那些城市里的树木，我从它们身上看到了流动着的复杂的情感。树木是更为长生的，有一些研究认为树木可以通过根须间的真菌来传递信息，或许他们也可以传递记忆 。 人在自然里选取一块地方围起来，把原本自然的地方变的不自然，又为了人们对自然不可割舍的渴求而移栽树木，花心思掌握技术来照顾树木，给树打针输液让树存活下来，按照我们的喜好修剪树木割掉树冠， 甚至为了控制飞絮让树木绝育 ，人们希望让这块地方成为可控的自然，但是，树总能长出自己的姿态，一切都在控制和失控中不断摇摆。
我在这些不断的摇摆之间的某个点遇到了这些树。 那些看似不完美的枝丫打动着我，它们似乎也映射着我们的处境，照见生活的影子，为心与物的连接创造出悬浮于现实之上的现场。
城市中树木上的人类痕迹，也让我想起奥尔加 · 托卡尔丘克在《白天的房子，夜晚的房子》中写到的一个故事：制造工具的刀具匠在森林里用尽半生开垦，被誉为城市的缔造者。他在森林中央发现了一棵高大，粗壮，挺拔的云杉树，树干中似有一块金属与树木长在了一起，他认为这是神的旨意，大家一致同意在那里建造教堂，直到人们砍倒了那棵大树才将那神秘的金属与树木分开，而那却是一把来自另外一个时代的未被岁月腐蚀的钢刀。
“一棵树死了，另一颗树就会接受它的梦，将这种没有意义，没有印象的梦继续做下去。
所以，树木永远不会死亡” ——奥尔加 · 托卡尔丘克
These photos were taken intensively in recent years (2020-2023), because of the restrictions on travel during the epidemic, I liked to ride a shared bicycle to explore the city, photograph the familiar and unfamiliar neighborhoods, those people and the forest, land, mountains and rivers in a long-term coexistence of some kind of consensus of nature.
The trees in those cities, I saw in them the complex emotions that flowed. Trees are more immortal, and some studies suggest that trees can transmit information through fungi between their roots and whiskers, and perhaps they can also transmit memories. People choose a place in nature to fence it, turn the originally natural place into unnatural, and transplant trees for people's inseparable thirst for nature, spend time mastering technology to take care of trees, inject trees to make trees survive, trim trees according to our preferences and cut off the crown, and even sterilize trees in order to control flying flots, people hope to make this place a controllable nature, but trees can always grow their own posture, and everything is constantly swaying in control and out of control.
I came across these trees at some point between these constant swings.Those seemingly imperfect branches touched me, as if they were reflecting our situation, showing the mirages of life, creating a scene suspended above reality for the connection between mind and matter.
Human traces on trees in the city remind me of a story written by Olga Tokarczuk in "Dom dzienny，dom nocny", the knifeman who made tools spent half his life cultivating in the forest and was known as the founder of the city. He found a tall, stout, tall spruce tree in the middle of the forest, with a piece of metal in its trunk that seemed to grow with the tree, which he believed was God's will, and everyone agreed to build a church there until the tree was cut down, and it was a steel knife from another era that had not been corrupted by time.
"When a tree dies, another tree will accept its dream and continue to live this meaningless, unimpressive dream.
So, trees never die" – Olga Tokarczuk
The trees in those cities, I saw in them the complex emotions that flowed. Trees are more immortal, and some studies suggest that trees can transmit information through fungi between their roots and whiskers, and perhaps they can also transmit memories. People choose a place in nature to fence it, turn the originally natural place into unnatural, and transplant trees for people's inseparable thirst for nature, spend time mastering technology to take care of trees, inject trees to make trees survive, trim trees according to our preferences and cut off the crown, and even sterilize trees in order to control flying flots, people hope to make this place a controllable nature, but trees can always grow their own posture, and everything is constantly swaying in control and out of control.
I came across these trees at some point between these constant swings.Those seemingly imperfect branches touched me, as if they were reflecting our situation, showing the mirages of life, creating a scene suspended above reality for the connection between mind and matter.
Human traces on trees in the city remind me of a story written by Olga Tokarczuk in "Dom dzienny，dom nocny", the knifeman who made tools spent half his life cultivating in the forest and was known as the founder of the city. He found a tall, stout, tall spruce tree in the middle of the forest, with a piece of metal in its trunk that seemed to grow with the tree, which he believed was God's will, and everyone agreed to build a church there until the tree was cut down, and it was a steel knife from another era that had not been corrupted by time.
"When a tree dies, another tree will accept its dream and continue to live this meaningless, unimpressive dream.
So, trees never die" – Olga Tokarczuk