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Dancing with Ducks in Peking

CHINA | Monday, 26 November 2007 | Views [569]

I sliced through with mathematical patience for the first time, accepting that balance is apart of everything and symmetry is beauty and precision combined.

The ducks are placed in their rotary carnival wheel and I watch as they start to dance.

The only way in is through the window where Wei Shu lives. There is just enough space for the 3 of us, a T.V that sings static soap operas and a bountiful arrangement of paintings, sayings, words, wall hangings, books all frozen in time, a draw full of bits, pens, rope, wax candles... Ink stained fingers tattoo everything~reds and blacks~flat faced dogs~fragile birds~.

The ink well disappears into a magic tomb, a black grave filled with oppressed soldiers...waiting

One. Two. Their souls get used.

Wei shu has four eyes two of them are older, framed and hold joy from a million children. The second pair are filled with the dust of expectation, ability, life’s limits, concentration and time. He is an artist like my grandfather; I see the look in his eyes mimic the beauty and the wandering struggle in my grandfather’s face.

I remember my grandfather explaining ''why his eyes were no use for making pictures anymore''

~Beads filled with a million creations~

‘‘What happens when a star dies~ it implodes, gases don’t burn anymore and light it turned to dust. However everything around the supernova has been touched...filled with energy, passion...

An acceptance of the big clock, tick tock, man's greatest fear.

I enter the window to the box on the street, the ducks are laughing at me whilst browning, necks first, then shoulders.

He says "A thousand Li a day with tremendous pace"

I paint him a scroll witch he stamps with delight.

'beautiful'

'happiness'

The time outside the window consists of beautiful Asian faces.

A baby gets past through the window, it waves at me.

We are now on sale to the wandering eyes of Mr.shu's customers, his students appear from nowhere, eyes glistening, fresh faced, excited children.

Every now and again through chance and serendipity Wei Shi Zhi teaches somebody new. In five days he teaches them calligraphy and his eyes get passed onto them.

Wei Shu sits at his magic window all day, I see him teaching children at night,9, 10,11pm he is there.....and at 9am for me, with a smile...."Neehow"

Wei Shu now sleeps, while I dance with ducks on the street, watching them turn brown slowly, ever so slowly.

f.x

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