No matter how many years pass, I'm waiting for you in the warm pottery kiln.
A team of camel drivers riding with the rising sun, draped in the lingering hues of the setting sun, traveled along the Silk Road, venturing into this magical land. This desolate and majestic desert and Gobi, this weighty and profound humanistic history, all of it completely intoxicated me.
As I stepped into the pottery kiln, I felt a strong shock. Memories from the depths of time, one by one, began to awaken. I clearly saw you and me, our past lives, knowing each other, loving each other, and loving each other.
A thousand years ago, in my most beautiful time, my father's camel team came to this place, I encountered the mysterious pottery kiln, and I encountered you. I desperately pleaded with my father to leave the camel team and stay here.
From then on, we lived together. The pottery jars overflowed with my joy, and the clay was filled with your obsession. The dawn and dusk in the pottery kiln, enveloped us in the atmosphere of our happiness.
Hold hands, and grow old together. I thought that with a beautiful marriage, love and affection, we would accompany each other until the end of time. An accidental event broke three thousand obsessions, bringing happiness to an abrupt end.
Without the earth cracking or the sky falling, it was just that a piece of the kiln roof collapsed, forming a dark cloud that enveloped me. I heard a heart-wrenching cry, and I knew that you and I were now separated by life and death.
My beloved, you carefully let me lie in the pottery kiln, your rough hands trembled as they gently closed my eyes, and the hot tears fell drop by drop on my cold cheeks.
You put your heart and the pottery jar, as well as our happiness, into the burial. The last appearance of my beloved, remained in each other's eyes. Love and sorrow, engraved in my heart.
From that day on, we were at opposite ends of the shore, you were at one shore, and I was at the other, separated by the distance of life and death. Although the Cowherd and Weaver Girl could meet on the seventh day, we cannot cross the in this life.
You suddenly broke your heart and liver, your hair turned gray, and your face was full of vicissitudes. At sunrise and sunset, you lived alone in the pottery kiln, embracing the vastness of the human world, and silently waiting for you. You whispered into the pottery jar, and I heard every word clearly.
No one knows that in the quiet pottery kiln, you can experience my breath and heartbeat. You can sculpt and mold clay, and you can feel my softness and warmth.
The pottery jar is speechless, the earth is silent, and you listen to the sound of the earth for a thousand years of water, rising and falling tides. The warmth of the pottery jar reminds you of the moment when we embraced.
I have countless times topped the pottery jars filled with wine and food to give to my father and brother who worked in the fields. I have also carried the pottery jars on my shoulders, slowly pouring down the moonlit, crystal-clear spring water to wash away the dust and fatigue of my beloved.
Tonight, my long hair is blown by the wind, and the holy light shines through the gaps in the kiln roof. My tender bare feet dance on the hard earth, causing me to ache, did you feel it?
Once, I was a potter's wife who danced in the pottery kiln, where is my beloved now? Did you see the bride who danced in the pottery kiln, that bride who has awakened?
May seventh comes again, all who have feelings in the world can gather. But where are you? Regardless of how many years have passed, I am still in the deepest corners of the world, in the warmest pottery kiln, waiting for you. Waiting for you!
Photography: As you wish.
