Painting

"被遗忘的时代，故事，和人们，他们以一些隐匿的方式存在和生长着，然后在时空和记忆的交错中，从某夜的梦境回来，悄无声息。"

-- Hedy Zhang

2019.11.24

 

In the summer of 2016, I underwent therapy for depression at a Beijing hospital, undergoing Modified Electroconvulsive Therapy (METC) twice, causing me to lose certain memories and emotions. Over the years, I've strived to recover these lost feelings and experiences. However, I came to realize that this sense of loss isn't solely due to the therapy itself, but more significantly, it stems from the broader context of my generation and society. The treatment magnified the generation gap, emphasizing the persistent theme of absence within my age group.

 

Each generation grapples with its own losses. Reflecting on my own growth, the sense of loss is intertwined with relationships—friends, parents, grandparents, teachers, and other individuals who have crossed my path. As I peruse my photo albums and digital archives, familiar faces resurface, triggering memories of people I've lost touch with in the course of daily life, while some remain steadfast friends. Nostalgically observing images from our youth, I'm struck by the simultaneous existence of differences and similarities. Some people have faded from my life, and others have tragically departed. It becomes a challenge to differentiate between death and the enigmatic concept of unknown absence.

 

Even now, I continue to decipher the meaning of absence in my life. From childhood, my father's consistent absence created a void that influenced my perceptions of male figures and close relationships with men. I've noticed a common thread of absent fathers within my generation—an absence that often stems from early deaths or disappearances. This pattern of absence appears to span generations, affecting my parents' era as well. Beneath this pervasive feeling of loss lies a backdrop of rapid changes during our formative years in China. Cities transformed, friendships evolved, and lifestyles shifted suddenly, often before we could fully grasp the implications. The recent changes in Hong Kong, a place that holds many of our generation's cherished memories, underscore how our own actions have contributed to the altering of our collective experiences.

 

In the face of this, I find myself pondering: What does it all signify? What has happened to individuals? How can we find our sense of identity amid these shifting landscapes? What remains for us on a personal level? Perhaps it's an opportunity to pause amidst the whirlwind of current events and contemplate the question: Who is absent?