黃色書櫃的其中一層放了一疊筆記本，但少有是用到最後一頁的。我清楚的知道每本筆記的分內之事，它們是上課的筆記、是書裡喜歡的段落、是有意無意的插圖速寫、是戳中內心的文字語句、是畫上已經製作完成的作品。

 

我喜歡預設觀眾看到作品的反應，卻無法預設自己要做出什麼樣的作品，每一個想法出現的瞬間，都是一個奇妙的時刻。這個時刻或許是在使用肥皂洗手的當下、或許是在撞球進袋白球也跟著進洞的同時、或許是在展場中瞥見不被視為作品之物的剎那、或許是在寵物店看到蛇吃飽撐著的過程、或許是在觀展中發現觀眾喜好的期間，又或許是在我翻開這些筆記本的時候。

 

所以我打開這些筆記本，看看筆記本在想什麼、猜猜我自己要做什麼。

On my yellow bookshelf, there sits a pile of notebooks, yet only a handful of them have been written in from beginning to end. The contents of each notebook are perfectly clear to me: they hold notes from classes I attended, cherished quotes and passages from books, whimsical doodles, words and phrases that resonate with me, and drawings of my finished works.

I find it enjoyable to anticipate the audience's feedback on my work, but I often struggle with deciding what type of work to create. It is magical every time an idea jumps to mind. Maybe these inspiring moments have happened when I’m washing my hands with soap, watching a cue ball accidentally sink into a pocket alongside another ball, noticing something special that is not considered a part of the exhibition, when I was observing a bloated snake lounging in a pet store, discovering the audience's preferences during an exhibition, or leafing through my notebooks.

So, I open up these notebooks and see what they have in mind, wondering my next move.