在騰沖拍的一張舊照，想起 Derek Jarman 的《藍》——

What need of so much news from abroad while all that concerns either life or death is all transacting and at work within me.

I step off the kerb and a cyclist nearly knocks me down. Flying in from the dark he nearly parted my hair.

Blue is the universal love in which man bathes - it is the terrestrial paradise.

If I lose half my sight will my vision be halved?

Blue transcends the solemn geography of human limits.

The virus rages fierce. I have no friends now who are not dead or dying. Like a blue frost it caught them.

I am accompanied by a shadow into which H.B. appears and disappears. I have lost the sight on the periphery of my right eye.

I hold out my hands before me and slowly part them. At a certain moment they disappear out of the corner of my eyes. This how I used to see. Now if I repeat the motion, this is all I see.

Thinking blind, becoming blind.

My mind bright as a button but my body falling apart - a naked light bulb in a dark and ruined room.

My skin sits on me like the shirt of Nessus.

The damaged retina has started to peel away leaving innumerable black floaters, like a flock of starlings swirling around in the twilight.

I caught myself looking at shoes in a shop window. I thought of going in and buying a pair, but stopped myself. The shoes I am wearing at the moment should be sufficient to walk me out of life.

In time,
No one will remember our work
Our life will pass like the traces of a cloud
And be scattered like
Mist that is chased by the
Rays of the sun
For our time is the passing of a shadow
And our lives will run like
Sparks through the stubble.

- Derek Jarman, Blue