When Objects Become Subjects

          “nature coincides with nature
          and this is no coincidence.
          nature flows in
          and out of itself
          with such frequency as to
          render it
          a totality”

          the sculptor read his diary
          while letting his work
          exhibit itself:
          a flat box on the floor
          two feathers sealed in glasses
          and a big bag
          full of exotic cashes
          which had no currency
          in this country.

          i thought the flat box looked like
          a weigher—
          women’s testament
          but the sculptor said
          the flat box represented
          the pillow of a homeless
          who slept on the street
          under the roof
          out there in the open

          he also said he couldn’t sleep
          at night
          o, the pillow of the homeless
          got cashed out
          in the work
          of the sleepless

          I wonder what was the weight
          of homelessness?
          did it weigh the same 
          as sleeplessness?

          I wondered if the two feathers
          were from the same bird
          if the bird felt
          when its feathers were
          flying away

          when we go through our lives
          seeing all those
          everyday objects
          being there
          as though living lives
          of their own

          when we pause to look at them
          breathe with them
          living a moment
          with them

          when we learn to keep those moments
          making objects
          into subjects
          of artworks
          of philosophical pieces

          objects get transformed
          into our humbleness and arrogance
          our mortal lives
          show the pride
          of their own
          to the immortal
          who are irrevocably deprived
          of their deaths

          i felt the turmoils
          in my mind.
          they were matter without form
          they were infants
          they were the primordial nakedness
          language desired so much
          to clothe

          they humiliated me
          they animated me
          they betrayed me
          they stripped me of my decency
          they thrust into my
          being, and
          became me, transfigured me

          they were the original sin
          of the phenomenal
          they were the forces
          that were shaping me into a
          breathing in the noumenal


诗的结尾,是从我最喜欢的当代哲学家Christine Korsgaard的书中得到的启发。

Thinking, after all, is just talking to yourself.
And since meanings are public, talking is just thinking in the company of others.
When we talk, like when we make an agreement,
We meet in the noumenal world.

——from SELF-CONSTITUTION: Agency,Identity,and Integrity p.197