“When I am silent, I fall into that place where everything is music.”
– Rumi
讓我倆一起閉上眼睛，想像靈魂兒帶領身驅飛越山嶺河川，來到遙遠的印度境地。在這兒你會走進一間木刻手印工場，看見工匠以靈活指頭抓起厚重的木印章，先置於印枱上墨，然後小心翼翼地安放往布面上去，再握緊拳頭用力一敲，讓墨印在布上留下最最原始的條紋痕跡。
你趨前細看，悄聲跟印布工匠說：「這是多麼漂亮的五線譜啊！」工匠微笑，拳頭繼續緩慢有致地打著節拍，敲出無數教人凝神的樂章。音符與音符之間，有著靜謐牽引。此時裁縫師到來，利用條紋印布為我倆縫製輕盈如風的裙子。謐之衣，宛如湖水搖曳；你我相視而笑，沉默牽手於波光粼粼之間。
翩翩有時，安靜有時。
Let us close our eyes. Imagine our souls leading our bodies to fly over mountains and rivers, eventually arriving the land of India. Here you would walk into a woodblock printing workshop, and see how a craftsman grabs a large wooden stamp with his agile fingers, dips it onto the ink pad before he carefully places it on the surface of the natural-dyed cloth. Then the craftsman would knock on the stamp with his fist, creating the most perfectly imperfect and raw stripes onto the cloth.
You lean closer to have a good look, then whisper into the craftsman’s ear, “What a beautiful stave!” He smiles and continues to knock on the wooden stamp in a slow yet meticulous pace, creating breathtaking music. Between the notes, silence exists and holds tight. By then the tailor has arrived. With the raw striped cloth, he makes the lightest garments for the two of us. The Silence Dress, as gentle as lake water, sways in a soothing rhythm. Hand in hand, we soak in sparkling stillness; we look at each other and beam with delight.
A time to be silent; a time to dance.
