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Author: Ouyang Yingji
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-03-01
Features: Unique travel discoveries and alternative visual memories. Travel is a form of memory, or memory is a form of travel. When young, it's the best time for travel, whether near or far. It seems that only beyond the confines of home is what truly feels real. With blood, sweat, and tears, one still can't help but take photos to preserve the moment. Familiar public recognition confirms one's existence and the fact that one has ventured out. Everyone preserves their travel experiences differently—writing down the entire journey is one way, while photographing the people and things encountered along the way is also a simple method. Ouyang Yingji, however, uses his expertise in images and words to present a traveler's map of the past 85 years.
Stories told through images, one image following another, evoke emotions—what moves us (or what moves us with the images). We travel for just one image, touching the very essence that moves us. During the journey, we are amazed by the world's landscapes we've never seen before, gradually immersing ourselves in every scene, contemplating the shapes of our memories.
A nonlinear whisper of travel, a slice-of-life confession of journeys, Ouyang Yingji's concise storytelling of unfamiliar landscapes slowly condenses the emotional energy of travel into this small book, inviting readers on a remarkable inner journey.
Travel is, in fact, a form of memory. Does saying this sound a bit disappointing? Whether driven by adventure or leisure, the fantasies and impulses about the destination and beyond are suddenly placed on hold, frozen in time, as movement turns to stillness. Because during the journey, every second is real, not just an adventure, nor necessarily enjoyment. Instead, it's only after returning home, in some future moment, that the mind rapidly scans through the memories, automatically cutting out the mundane and leaving behind only the good times and beautiful scenes. The places seen, the things eaten, the rest taken—repeatedly adding points in, a forgetful person like me often turns bad experiences into good ones. No wonder everyone thinks I'm optimistic.
Therefore, I dare to write about my travels from long ago and the most recent period. Taking responsibility for one's own feelings is, after all, part of the job. Moreover, most travelers don't take responsibility—no matter how hard one tries, it's still just passing through. There's no need to pretend to have seen it all, as dust and weariness are not good for the skin.
That said, travel is still necessary. Only the ordinary people like us can recall through experience—recall, in itself, is also a form of travel.