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009/ These Flowers, This Inkstone

Things in Themselves, Myself being Myself

Words & Photography / 夏侯露茜

丈夫遛狗時從路邊採摘了野花,回家後擱在餐桌上,是送給我的小禮物。我拿起細看,輕輕一抖便落下了繁花點點,每一顆也就只有三、四毫米大小,趕緊找容器盛載,隨手便抓來這石硯。

石硯的來歷再平凡不過,是許多年前在文具店隨便購入。可是我猜它在我的心內也該是很有份量的吧,一直以來總在案頭佔著一丁點位置。不盛墨的日子,也有拿它當杯墊,但更多時候也只是讓它安然地存在著。那謐靜之姿,其實挺重要。這回不經意地盛花,樸實炭黑如微涼夏夜,點點花朵成了星塵,隨時光流動縮小凋零。

而我呢,大概是永遠也不會忘記,這星光閃閃的畫面。


“How much better is silence; the coffee cup, the table. How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. Let me sit here for ever with bare things, this coffee cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself.”

– Virginia Woolf, The Waves