February 2008 Kho Phi Phi, Thailand
Because left too long, the memory slowly turned into a color. It was a piece of thick or light blue, my favorite color — the clothes and skirts that once loved this color persistently; now it also brought in the most beautiful coastline of the country, and the concrete gradually faded out, and the abstract gradually highlighted. So there is no longer only sunshine, beach, bikini and Fruit Shake in this memory, but the boundless blue tone, waving and surging, dragging the splashing white waves, chasing the naughty gulls, teasing the wild flowers on the bank, accompanied by the sound of the ship’s departure whistle, hanging in the deep eyes of the woman’s smile. Yes, the blue is a woman’s eyes, deep affection, light frivolity, surging at the beginning of the tide, lazy at the end of the tide, sparkling, also illusory and true, if you leave, erratic. It’s also the wings of angels, the clothes of the sky, with flowing clouds, stars and white sails. It’s also the song of the loafer, the sadness of the dancer, and the endless yearning, love and infatuation. This vast blue contains the sky and the sea. All the colorful ecology blooms on top of it. She is a kind of freedom of exile, a kind of tolerance of sea and rivers, a spirit of vast and long days, a pure white sail. Write the beautiful blue sea of Thai in my memory. Once I was full of thoughts, and let my pen go farther and farther. Go to every place in the past and leave a blue mark. The sky is unlimited for birds to fly at ease, as the ocean is boundless for fish to leap at will. The blue cliff of the sky and the blue corner of the sea are exactly what the fish and birds are eager to go to. But my heart, like the fish and birds, is still fluttering.