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老屋空了,村庄就老了。每次回到村庄祖居老屋静寂的堂前,我都有时空倒错的感觉,停满灰尘的长条香椅桌,桌脚被老鼠咬噬过的八仙桌,以及泛着油黄汗渍的竹床竹椅,都在还原我过往生活的符号。从推开虚掩大门的那刻起,我思考的是当下生活的焦虑与过往生活的背离。老屋房梁、窗棂、门楼、石础上雕饰的戏剧人物、龙凤松鹤、花鸟鱼虫,古典而清雅,以木质的纹理与砖石的特质,成为先祖诗意的甚而是灵魂的居所。如今,却成了我和兄弟,甚至我们的子女退让或远离的现场。
The old house is empty, the village is old. Every time I went back to the silence of the ancestral home of the ancestral village, I had the feeling of time and space in error, the tables of dusty incense and tables, the table of the Eight Immortals with feet and feet bite by the rats, Chairs, are in the restoration of my past life symbols. From the moment I opened the door of my grandfather, I was thinking of the departure from the anxiety of the present life from the past life. Old house beams, windows and doors, gateways, carved stone figures on the play, Long Song Songhe, birds and insects, flowers and birds, classical and elegant, with wood texture and masonry qualities, as the ancestral poetic and even the soul of the dwelling. Today, however, it has become a scene where my brother and I, and even our children, give way or stay away.