Immortality...(11/9)

After years, it is Pearl Jam who remains the pick in my musical box...
During the golden era of Seattle grunge movement, the raw and primitive sound of rock'n'roll dominated the US music market. No one could imagine the albums of Nirvana were brutally sold in millions copies. Focus at the moment was put on the two giant groups - Nirvana and Pearl Jam. That was the time when youth conquered the speech. It was the tattoo of the age. Losing the fate on the burdening tour life and dullness of the perceived world, Kurt Cobain committed suicide in 1994, and Nirvana ended its legendary life. Suddenly Pearl Jam seemed to lose its ground as the only pillar of the grunge movement. Media stated that 'the grunge is dead', and shortly after Kurt's death, Pearl Jam released their important album Vitalology. It was the time when I fell in love with the band, a sensible transformation to its post-grunge musical world.

The group had their live concert at Bercy this evening to demonstrate its 1.5 decade about the beauty of rock. Powerful and groovy are the trademark of Pearl Jam, and varied from its debut raw sound of grunge, the band plays very skillful and structural melody of hard art rock. Accompanied with a set of decent lighting effect throughout the concert, the music of Pearl Jam never stopped. It was touching when they played songs like Better Man...when you see all the thirty-something fans wearing T-shirts of Pearl Jam from various stages and the harmonised dance of the crowd, you simply get the rhythm of a stagnant eternity since the past. I was listening again to the song 'indifferent' from their debut album Ten, and this is what to be called 'immortality'...

If I die, I will die...(26/7)

If I die, I will die. It is a state of rigor mortis, but no one notice my being of livor mortis...I don't need to know where to go, as you would not have known. I go as I would go, and it is just a flowery of gloomy dance. The path I trace does not fall into the orbit, and so I do not belong to anything, senseless, arbitrary. I go into the expandable telex field. Wave flows clockwise, and wave hits the amplitude. There is a boundary of the hollow out, an exploitation of all in nothing. Dragging out, I jerk myself down into the eternity of loss. I will be forgotten, as every droplet fails to return to the stream. The more it means, the more it will be buried. The hawks are flying, and I diffuse. I hide in the bushes for a forgiveness of immortality. I can be erased, simply with no effort. My wings slide on their own and I see my eyes rolling dash. It is an integration of separation. I pour my condensed particles into the irrigation drain, and slowly the new grown flowers join my shadow. I succumb, ain't I?

21g...(24/7)

The weight of loss before death is the theme of the second long film of Alejandro Gonzales Iñárritu shot in 2003...
I am not sure how the 21 grams are calculated, but in the film, the contradictory pattern of life is dramatically depicted in the three intersecting stories. Tragically brillant, and the way of narrative functioned precisely in the whole film. Benicio Del Toro, Naomi Watts and Sean Penn are all good actors and they show their excellence in the film. The story says 'life still goes on', and what then? How would our state of losing the 21 grams be conducted? When one is looking for a new life, the other is donnating one's fate to a stranger. Life weights more than it appears, and never could we understand how we would walk to the end to lose the extra weight. We light our light and we live our life.

Les fleurs sur la route...(1/5)

The first of May is a special day...We have a nice song for the day, and many paid employees and workers do not need to work but enjoy their relaxing holiday. French people would buy lily of the valley 'le muguet' to remember this special day, apart from perhaps any other celebration for the social class of labours. Little stalls were set up all along the crossroad and intersections to sell the lilies on the day.

Every time when I travel on autoroutes or national roads in France, a colour spectrum of flowers, trees and vegetation fill up the scenery of season. Colour is a medium of changes and a witness of unchanged spray. I like the colour of each day, and for today, the spring time carries a vivid pale green and blossoms new hopes of the old times. When I was passing by the region of Charente-Maritime last weekend, the colouring field beside the road gives a pride to the nature and recalls me a life that has passed by.


Some nice flowers were placed on the road from time to time. This is a tragic beauty that we may have forgotten after hours of minutes. The image we see hides the rest which stores only in the sake of memory. The one in yellow above is a flower named 'immortelles', a very elegant but sorrow name.

A month of May and a wish of may, let go and let's go.