Archive for the ‘室內設計’ Category

懷疑自己

Tuesday, July 6th, 2010

“這些年來,我一直過著密集思維的日子,彷彿做什麼都必須探討出一個究竟,時光從身邊流過時,總想抓住一種“理由”才感覺對自己有個交代,幾年如一日的這般生活,的確使人身心疲憊倦怠……”
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間歇間隨心翻開手邊的一本書時,不經意間看到了這樣一段話似乎在我最脆弱時擊中了我的軟肋,敲擊了我那段最脆弱的神經,一直疲於忙碌,倦於壓力的靈魂,身體似乎在那一瞬間分離,我的靈魂彷彿站立在我肉體的旁邊,重新審視著這疲憊不堪的“機器”,一台一直只為了給每一件事尋找,創造一個“理由”的“機器”。 

“對自己的懷疑已經很久了,而且日甚一日……過多的被“理由”,“意義”這些抽象的東西纏住,是否意味著拋棄了具體而真實的生活?我們是忽然疲憊不堪的一天,開始懷疑並重新審視自己的生命的――我們是否開錯了頭?走錯了路?可是我們已經走出了很遠……”
  
懷疑?懷疑自己?

是的,每次拖著疲乏的身體躺在床上漫無目的的看著天花板時,有時給自己一遍又一遍的用那些聖賢之言安慰自己,有時會在懷疑,懷疑自己,懷疑自己這樣的生活是否錯了,目標錯了?還是方式錯了?

可我的確是已經走出了很遠,離起點已經很遠,但又沒有看到終點,我站在一條路的中段,是中段,不是中間,路的兩邊是懸崖,路的兩端,一端是已經離得很遠的起點,一端是還隱匿在煙霧瀰漫後的終點,我也許早已沒有選擇,也許你會建議我回頭,但也許回頭的路和前面的路已經相差無幾。也許,我轉身回頭看身後的路時,發現身後已經沒有路,它們在我來時曾經承載著太多的時間,壓力,疲倦,希望,自勉,笑聲,淚水……它們已經坍塌在懸崖下面。

也許什麼都可以挽回,只是時間,時間過去了就再也不回頭,甚至連上帝也無法讓時間逆轉,上帝創造了世界,但時間先於上帝存在。

也許我要讓它一直“錯”下去,也許這種生活沒有錯。 

“像草木一樣沒有思想的生活,對我來說,也許是一種達觀而超然的境界,從一個側面講這將是我未來的生活狀態。”

好多時候感覺到了疲倦了,累了,好多時候感覺到一個人疲憊後的孤獨,寂寞,想找個地方歇會,想找個人陪,然後在迷迷糊糊地睡去後,一覺醒來,疲倦的身體在睡眠中得到了暫時的補足,靈魂的孤獨,寂寞在新的一天的陽光下充斥著那些忙碌中遠遠退去,這台“機器”又開始了它“意義”,“理由”的尋找。

“懷疑”像一個不甚親近的朋友,偶爾串門在忙碌的生活中安插一段插曲,言盡無語後,它又無聲無息的離開,新的一天仍然複印著前一天的模式繼續在那條路上前行,因為我選擇了,便沒有後悔的機會。

“使,生如夏花之絢爛,死如秋葉之靜美”我的白天是“生”,我的黑夜是“死“,白天我在那條路上熱情洋溢的前行,黑夜我在懷疑著白天的行走,黑夜成了我生命留下的罅隙,而生命留下了罅隙,從中送來了死之憂鬱的音樂。但這音樂在陽光來臨前便會嘎然而止,只是再次等待下一個黑夜的來臨。

Historic Design

Wednesday, October 10th, 2007

images.jpgSlump-stone bricks in the living room, a “negative space” that provided visual breathing room for patterns of light to dance with shifts in the sun.

He was master of scale and proponent of interior design. His influences ranged from the white rooms of Syrie Maugham in the 1920s to the simplicity and minimalism of Coco Chanel’s salon on

Paris’s rue Cambron. Every winter he would spend a month at the Royal Hawaiian in

Waikiki, communing with the interiors of his mentor Frances Elkins, whose maxim, “When in doubt, take it out!” he liberally applied.

But the interior designer’s biggest inspiration may have been his clients, with whom, as MacMasters points out, “there was always a love affair. He was fiercely protective of their interests.”

Taylor would sketch at night in bed on a big tray, the phone cradled on his shoulder, his end of the conversations going something like this: “Are you in your lovely canopy bed? There’s a beautiful pair of chairs I want to show you!” The next morning he would arrive at client meeting with dozens of fresh sketches.

The timelessness of Michael Taylor’s vision and his devotion to his craft are expressed by the house’s current resident, who, though she never met him, has found herself over the course of a decade restoring the original Italian raw-silk melon, lime green and orange pillows there. She describes her window screens as “beautiful, to die for, drop-dead” and confesses that she is extremely reluctant to make changes, even now.

“The integrity of the design was so pure,” she says of the masterpiece she inhabits. “You can’t replace the quality of Michael Taylor.”