回家Going Home
In 2004, I went back home, back to my familiar land, the home furnishings remains constant year round: old sofa fell in the shadow, plastic flowers beside my window had been covered with dust, the wall decorations suddenly have a kind of sad poetry. Home hides the reality of being ignored in the flow of time, which remains silent, conservating the secret of life.
These images are on my home, on my way back home all along the water of Yangtze River, where as the conduct of the Three Gorges water conservancy project has undergone tremendous upheaval: lived here for generations of countless families were moved to the field, to unknown area, for the begin of an unknown life.
All along my way home, watching old cities those about to disappear, watching new cities those are under construction, in the ever rising water I can still feel the desparate life itself will shine bright sun, and the warmth of sun behind the young boy, in the wilderness I feel myself returning home; the faces come and go before my lens, their expressions are as silent as still life, which make me respect deeply.
In 2004, I went back home, back to my familiar land, the home furnishings remains constant year round: old sofa fell in the shadow, plastic flowers beside my window had been covered with dust, the wall decorations suddenly have a kind of sad poetry. Home hides the reality of being ignored in the flow of time, which remains silent, conservating the secret of life.
These images are on my home, on my way back home all along the water of Yangtze River, where as the conduct of the Three Gorges water conservancy project has undergone tremendous upheaval: lived here for generations of countless families were moved to the field, to unknown area, for the begin of an unknown life.
All along my way home, watching old cities those about to disappear, watching new cities those are under construction, in the ever rising water I can still feel the desparate life itself will shine bright sun, and the warmth of sun behind the young boy, in the wilderness I feel myself returning home; the faces come and go before my lens, their expressions are as silent as still life, which make me respect deeply.
2004-2009
