三十位香港演員與面前的空觀眾席
直至我們願意描述每件看見的事物，無微不至地，我們才開始在看和有看見的可能。
因為，眼前的人，事，物，才不再是一種「理所當然的存在」，一種已被他人所解釋過的「意義」，一種在感受上似乎很滿的「空」。
但那只是被動造成的虛無感。
若能主動，它反而有助明白什麼是我們需要和不需要的。
「空」是因為太滿所以要經歷「清空」才能成為啟蒙。
現實的局限性在於每個人被告知的東西佔去了由自己發現那是什麼的時間與機會。
藝術便是用來清空慣用視角的發明，「空」在當中發揮的力量，是「靈」。
那是脫離眼見為憑，以他人看見的為自己所看見的改變。
這改變能令人感受到一個不同的自己，因為之前自己是「理所當然的存在」，但在有了對人，事，物的個人認知（包括問題）之後，「我」，便不再只是按他人所解釋的「意義」存在。
「空」由沒有安全感的「虛」變成一種發自內在的「妙」，也將「洞」的虛無轉化成「見」的契機。
「空」是採集空氣中所有的流動，幫助自己和他人不斷往前。
WELCOMING THE FLOWERS a poem by John Giorno （A Visit To The Poet https://youtu.be/HZSrijb5tRI）
I am standing on the corner of Stanton and Chrystie, waiting for the traffic light to change. A man is sitting on the steps of a building holding his young son on his lap. He is eating fried chicken from Chico’s take-out on Houston. He chews on the wings and feeds bits of the breast to his son.
The man finishes eating and puts the leftover chicken and bones, french fries and soda can in a paper bag and leaves it on the sidewalk. A brown dog from a neighboring building, snoops around gets his nose in the bag, chews on the bones and makes a mess. The man hits the dog with a newspaper, and it yelps and runs away. A black cat sitting in a window, watches wide-eyed, staring down at the dog, chicken bones and gristle.
I see their past and present lives. The man eats the chicken and the chicken was his mother, who had died of cancer two years ago;
the dog chewing on the bones was his father, who had died of a heart attack five years ago; and the cat in the window was his grandmother; and his young son, whom he holds so tenderly, was the man who killed him in his previous life. His wife comes home with groceries and takes the boy into the building. She had been his lover in many past lives, and was his mother for the first time in this one. The world just makes me laugh.
Fill what is empty, empty what is full, light as body, light as breath.
Welcoming the flowers: daffodils baptized in butter, lilacs lasciviously licking the air, necklaces of wisteria bowing to magnolia mamas, the cherry blossoms are razor blades, the snow dahlias are sharp as cat piss, the lilies of the valley are lilies of fur, lilies of feather, lilies of fin, lilies of skin, the almost Miss America rose, the orchids are fat licking tongues, and they all smell so good and I am sucked into their meaty earthy goodness.
You make my heart feel warm, I lay my head on your chest and feel free, filling what is empty, emptying what is full, filling what is empty, emptying what is full, filling what is empty, emptying what is full, filling what is empty, emptying what is full, the gods we know we are, the gods we knew we were.
I smell you with my eyes, see you with my ears, feel you with my mouth, taste you with my nose, hear you with my tongue, I want you to sit in my heart, and smile.
Words come from sound, sound comes from wisdom, wisdom comes from emptiness, deep relaxation of great perfection.
Welcoming the flowers: armfuls of honey suckle and columbine, red-tipped knives of Indian paint brush, the fields of daisies are the people who betrayed me and the lupine were self-serving and unkind, the voluminous and voluptuous bougainvillea are licking fire loving what it cannot burn, the big bunch of one thousand red roses are all the people I made love to, hit my nose with stem of a rose, the poppies have pockets packed with narcotic treats, the chrysanthemums are a garland of skulls.
I go to death willingly, with the same comfort and bliss as when I lay my head on my lover’s chest.
Welcoming the flowers: the third bouquet is a crown of blue bells, a carillon of foxglove, a sunflower snuggles its head on my lap and gazes up at the sky, may all the tiny black insects crawling on the peony petals be my sons and daughters in future lives, great balls of light radiating white, red, blue concentric dazzle, yellow, green great exaltation, the world just makes me laugh.
May sound and light not rise up and appear as enemies, may I know all sound as my own sound, may I know all light as my own light, may I spontaneously know all phenomena as myself, may I realize original nature, not fabricated by mind, empty naked awareness.
