夢與奇想
文 / 翁清賢
我其實是個夜夢很少的人，可能因為白日夢太多的緣故，使我夜間不再需要靠夢來入眠。
我的畫中的「夢」，並非來自夜夢的轉寫，而是日間所有夢的濃縮或總和。這些夢出自腦海的記憶、幻想和奇念等等，而它的內容常常徘徊於現實與非現實之間、風景與光影之間或愛戀與好奇之間。這些林林總總的意會，有風光、聲籟、音樂的觸發，也有嬰兒笑顏的引領。當然，也有惡夢、頹夢的影響。生命歲月的洗禮，亦加深了它的內容，使其逐漸豐富和立體。
欲以文字來說夢、解畫，往往是徒然的，或可能文字與夢、畫各置一詞，而無關於夢畫的本身。這有點像解禪，只能提示，而難有解答。夢境是個遼闊的世界，來自四面八方，夢畫亦非全依形象，或只賴色彩和空間，有時一色一形即已具足。
夢有時是為了超脫，想解開糾纏，有時則在重重的糾纏中披荊斬棘；有時是快慰的，因為在塗抹的過程重擬了過去。有時則是無中生有，在某些靈感中捕捉到印象裡的聲色。它們是倏倏飛逝的過往，也是某一段時光的暫留。
也許是受到攝影和電影的影響，我的夢畫都似有旁白和樂聲的存在，也具有某種速度感。它不一定是純繪畫的，需要在結構理論裡尋找答案，或許和起心動念比較有關，因為它們和氣候、環境和氛圍息息相涉，一點溫度的升降和晴陰的變動，便可能改變它呈現的結果。它是有所本的，也因此往往畫面中暗藏了季節的訊息或當時的哀樂。
由於長期身在山中，山中的雲影變幻自然成為我的創作元素，但這些雲影山川也未必只是真實的山川，而可能隱伏了城市人間的糾葛。它或許跨越了城鄉的隔閡，而抵達另一個沒有疆界的時空。它為孤單的自我詮說，也為一段窘困的生命找到出路。
我的早期創作和近期也有差別。早期因為與現實和夢比較貼近，感覺世界比較具體，近期則漸漸處於一種烘托的狀態。記憶不再是獨立的，而跟其他的幻境結合在一起。音樂在此時冉冉上升，融入難以言說的秘意裡。有一段期間，蜿蜒的「路」頻頻出現，孤獨的人影常常隨行，幾何的雲和天空也是屢見的，動物以模糊的意象入畫，但是後來這些都隱遁了。我也不知道為什麼；畫畫的人不見得能說出他自己畫中的道理。
我還是依然任憑這種方式持續，讓解與不解處於互不相干的狀態，意念和畫念隨時可能來召喚我，我等著它，它也等著我。我們像犬與主人，隨著相處的熟稔而漸有默契，到了彼此皆老的年紀，雖無言語，亦可憑藉簡單的眼神溝通。
「夢」的形容，對於這些畫面是否全然合適？我也不甚了然；「奇想」是否來自刻意的「想」，也有疑處。字面上的意思畢竟只是概說，並不能等同於所有視覺和內在的湧動。然而在形象上兩者是接近的，由「夢」切進我的睡眠狀態，而從「奇想」走入另一種清醒。這些畫是歷經一長段時間無意和有意的塗繪，它並不能具體而微地套入一篇文字裡，但是它可以和這些題旨相攜起舞。
On My Dreams and Fantasies
Translated by Jin-tang Peng（彭錦堂）
I can recall few dreams that I dreamed in the night. But I daydream a great deal, perhaps too much. Because of daydreaming, I believe I practically do not need dreams to help me sleep in the night.
Scenes of dreams in my artwork, therefore, came from my daydreams. They are realities of memories and fantasies, having as much to do with actualities as with non-actualities, with lights as with shadows, and with love as with curiosity. These moments of correspondences were evoked by radiances and sounds, as well as by babies’ smiling faces. They were influenced by bad and depressing dreams, too. Time also deepened their contents, eventually making them rich and dynamic.
It seems futile to speak of dreams and artwork in written words. In verbal explanations, words, dreams, and artwork each go their own ways. The dreams-in-art remain untouched in the end. In a way, the situation is like Ch’an (zen), revealing itself only by hints, not by semantic elaborations. The worlds of dreams are vast, taking their origins from every direction. My drawings and paintings of dreams, largely from concrete shapes, also rely heavily on colors and space. At times, a simple color or form is all that is needed.
To dream means to transcend, to deliver, and sometimes to work through thorny messes. Working on dreams in art gave me a sense of pleasure, in the process of which the past was reactivated. Sometimes my dream-work came from naught, inspired by sounds and colors captured from moments of impressions. These materials belonged to times fleeting as well as times lingering.
Possibly on account of the influences from photography and cinema, my dream-in-artwork effects as if it were accompanied by music and subtitles. It also carries a sense of speed. It is more than visual, hiding its secrets in the concept of structure. The onset of ideas and moves closely responds to climates, surroundings, and their aura; any subtle changes of temperature or shade affect the outcome. My dreams have physical roots. The dream scenes of my work contain hidden seasonal messages of nature, together with joy or sadness felt at the moment.
Many of these scenes have something to do with the fact that I have lived in the mountains for a long time. Indeed, there are apparent elements of nature, clouds and shadows in particular, that one can easily identify in my work. These elements are more than nature in actuality; they are wedded with the humans, even something of the cities. Ultimately, they perhaps delineate a space beyond the limits of nature or city, making comments on a lone self, or finding an outlet for the dilemma in a certain period of my life.
There is a difference between my present work and the work of earlier times. Earlier, both dreams and realities were intimate to me; the world remained rather concrete. In recent works, I tend to see the felt world in foils. Memories are connected with fantasies now. Meanwhile, music rises, merging them into an ineffable state of mystery. There were periods in which human shadows and winding roads were frequent motifs in my vision. Also present were skies and clouds in geometric forms, together with vague images of animals. All of them gradually faded away. I don’t know why. Artists can’t always explain their work.
I let this state of things persist, let the knowable and the unknowable remain non-obstructive to each other. I waited for ideas and urges of art to call on me, just as they waited for me to call on them. The two parties worked as a master and his dog would do. They became ever familiar with each other, achieving deeply reciprocal understanding. And I imagine that, as both became really old in age, they could communicate with each other by a mere glance, no need of words.
I am not quite certain if “dreams” and “fantasies” are the right words for the content of my work. They don’t seem to tell in complete terms all my visions and inner stirrings. But “dreams” and “fantasies” are images close to each other, one connecting with my sleeping state, the other, my wakefulness of a sort. These art pieces have been worked upon over a long period of time. They are not to be fitted into the verbal frames that I provide for them here. Rather, they should tango with what the words connote.
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