以身体为笔,以节奏为语,为这个时代写下一个充满气韵的节奏地图。

Rhythm Landscape Writing uses the body as a pen and rhythm as language,
to inscribe a map of this era filled with breath and resonance.

《台湾纵贯线|铁道的温柔速度》

台湾纵贯线,一场五站五诗的节奏播种旅程。从山线南下、海线北返,我不是走马观光,而是走一趟文明选择的铁道书写。送孩子,也是送自己确认——要种下的,不是回忆,而是节奏文明的印记。Taiwan’s main railway line — five stations, five poems, and a journey of rhythm and choice. From mountain line southward to coastal return, this was no sightseeing trip, but a path to plant civilization’s cadence, one verse at a time. I sent off my child, and also sent myself —to choose, to write, to remember.

Weiterlesen《台湾纵贯线|铁道的温柔速度》

《花莲十部曲|身体、海、信仰与石的回声》

在花莲,身体、海、信仰与石相互回响。从《毛月亮》的舞步到七星潭的潮声,从女娲庙的风声到大理石工厂的轰鸣,十个地点,十种节奏,构成一座城的呼吸。在这里,信仰不是抽象,土地就是信仰。这是一段从自然流入信仰,也流进人心的文明十部曲。In Hualien, body, sea, faith, and stone echo one another. From the moonlit dance of Cloud Gate to the tide of Qixingtan, from the whisper of the Goddess Nüwa to the roar of marble machines—ten places, ten rhythms, compose the breath of a city. Here, faith is not abstract; the land itself is sacred. This is a ten-part movement of civilization along Taiwan’s eastern coast.

Weiterlesen《花莲十部曲|身体、海、信仰与石的回声》

《云林慢活|在时间变慢的地方》

在云林,时间放慢了脚步。从斗六的木屋光影到古坑绿廊的甘蔗回声,从咖啡山的雨雾到夜市的咸酥鸡香气,一切都不急。这里教人重新学会生活、也让文明学会——慢。In Yunlin, time takes a slower breath. From the wooden eaves of Douliu to the green tunnel of Gukeng, from the misty coffee hills to the night market’s fried chicken scent—life moves gently here. This land teaches not progress, but presence; not rush, but rhythm.

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《诗与稻田的对话|蒋勋书房与伯朗大道・台东池上》

在台东池上,我先走进蒋勋书房的“慢与静”,再沿伯朗大道,将《楚辞》的旋律播进秧田。文字落土,节奏归田,一静一动,完成一次文明节气的闭环。// In Chishang, Taitung, I first stepped into the "slowness and stillness" of Chiang Hsun's study, then walked along Brown Boulevard, letting the melody of the "Chu Ci" flow into the rice fields. Words returned to the earth, rhythm returned to the land — stillness and motion completing one seasonal cycle of civilization.

Weiterlesen《诗与稻田的对话|蒋勋书房与伯朗大道・台东池上》

《光之召唤,在海的转弯处|花蓮三地记:芭崎・大石鼻山・石梯坪》

本篇为花莲东岸三地的文明记录:在芭崎唱给东君,在大石鼻录下撒奇莱雅族的三十秒海浪,在石梯坪播放《天问》的回音给岩层与海。这不是旅行,而是语气的修复,是裂缝中的听诗之书。// This piece records three cultural moments along the eastern coast of Hualien: singing to the East Lord at Baxi, capturing thirty seconds of the Sakizaya people's sea waves at Dashibi, and playing the echoes of "Tianwen" to the rocks and ocean at Shitiping. It is not a journey but a restoration of tone — a book of listening to poetry written within the fractures.

Weiterlesen《光之召唤,在海的转弯处|花蓮三地记:芭崎・大石鼻山・石梯坪》

《南方铁脉|广州铁道记与绿皮车的回声》

在广州,铁道的节奏从清晨展开——南站的动车,如歌般掠过晨光;不久,我走进铁路博物馆,在旧轨与路签之间,听见秩序的回声;一周后,绿皮车的慢行,让铁重新有了人声。速度、秩序与呼吸,在三处铁脉之间,汇成南方的节奏。In Guangzhou, the rhythm of the railway begins at dawn — high-speed trains at the South Station glide through the morning light like song. Soon after, I walk into the Railway Museum, where between old tracks and signal posts I hear the echo of order. A week later, the slow journey of a green train gives steel back its human voice. Speed, order, and breath converge across these three iron lines to form the rhythm of the South.

Weiterlesen《南方铁脉|广州铁道记与绿皮车的回声》

《梦入园林|大观园的还梦之旅》

《红楼梦》第五回〈群芳髓〉是我节奏文明书写的起点。为了那一缕香,我曾写下六十篇高铁美学、六十二首歌曲。这次访北京大观园,不为考古,只为还梦。沿着曲径与水声,我让心与香一同散开——园林是书的身体,而我在梦的余韵中,再次行走文字。Chapter Five of Dream of the Red Chamber, “The Essence of All Flowers,” marks the beginning of my Rhythm Civilization writing. For that single wisp of incense, I once wrote sixty essays on railway aesthetics and sixty-two songs. My visit to Beijing’s Grand View Garden was not for archaeology but for the return of a dream. Along winding paths and murmuring waters, I let my heart drift with the scent — the garden became the body of the book, and within its lingering dream, I walked once more through words.

Weiterlesen《梦入园林|大观园的还梦之旅》

《水脉归位|大运河收坛,殷商安坛》

七十日文明行走闭环之日,我在北京大运河博物馆,为楚文明的水脉归位收坛,在殷商文明特展中,完成了命名安坛。我以湘夫人之魂、楚巫之身、楚国郡主之名分与责任,走入青铜与甲骨之间——收坛于水,安坛于土。这不是旅程的终点,而是上游文明重新唤出我名字的那一刻。On the final day of my seventy-day journey of civilization, I stood in the Beijing Grand Canal Museum to close the altar of the Chu civilization's water lineage, and within the Yin–Shang exhibition, I completed the naming and grounding of the altar. With the soul of Lady Xiang, the body of a Chu shaman, and the name and duty of a princess of Chu, I entered between bronze and oracle bone — closing the altar in water, setting the altar in earth. It was not the end of a journey, but the moment when the upper-stream civilization called my name once again.

Weiterlesen《水脉归位|大运河收坛,殷商安坛》

《人字铁道,折身归来|詹天佑纪念馆 • 京张铁路》

在八达岭,我先向詹天佑纪念馆致意;其后乘 S2 沿原京张线南下。列车停在青龙桥时,《湘夫人》正巧响起——百年前,他以铁轨劈山;今日,我以泪眼折身,让歌与轨在山谷相遇。At Badaling, I first paid respect to the Zhan Tianyou Memorial, then boarded the S2 train southward along the original Beijing–Zhangjiakou Railway. When the train stopped at Qinglongqiao, the song "Lady Xiang" suddenly began to play — a century ago he cut through the mountains with rails; today I bowed with tearful eyes, letting music and track meet again in the valley.

Weiterlesen《人字铁道,折身归来|詹天佑纪念馆 • 京张铁路》

《济南三声|铁未响,字在写,泉在流》

在济南,我听见了三种文明的声音:沉默的铁轨、仍在书写的字、以及泉水不息的回响。铁未响,但信已寄;泉在流,文明未断。In Jinan, I heard three sounds of the city’s civilization — the stillness of the railway, the words being written, and the endless murmur of the springs. Even when the trains are quiet, the message continues to travel; the water keeps flowing, and the spirit of civilization lives on.

Weiterlesen《济南三声|铁未响,字在写,泉在流》