所有的門和門框都是不同顏色跟材質, 2021 All Doors and Frames Are of Different Colors and Materials, 2021｜序曲：「修補一份無濟於事」

作品名稱 Title｜所有的門和門框都是不同顏色跟材質 , 2021 All Doors and Frames Are of Different Colors and Materials, 2021 所有門上的鎖和門把都壞了, 2021 All the Locks and Handles Are Broken, 2021 尺寸 Dimension｜ digital, 16:9 媒材 Medium｜複合媒材 mixed media 作品介紹 Description｜每當家裡有客人時，我都會好奇，不知道他們有沒有注意到，家中所有的門和門框都是不同顏色跟材質，因為過去的很多年，所有門上的鎖和門把都壞了。被我父親撞壞的，小時候，每一次我們企圖要閃避他的毒打時，都會躲進不同的房間，而後，還是會被他破門而入，拖出來狠狠教訓。一扇一扇的門，一扇一扇的壞。房間、廁所、廚房，直到隱私終於成為這個家的疑慮的那一天，直到所有的門把都已經失效、門板再也合不上框的那天。我們才終於一口氣把所有的門都全面換新。那是大約十五年前的事了。拍下這張照片的那陣子，門把又壞了，於是門上徒留一個圓形的洞。可不一樣的是，這一次是被我姊姊還有她的情人撞壞的。具體發生了什麼事，我從來沒有過問，也不敢問。只是那天深夜，我聽著樓下傳來的各種咆哮聲、尖叫聲、撞門聲，卻不知所措、毫無反應又麻木的躺在床上。其實我對我自己感到生氣，我覺得自己應該有些行動、做點什麼，但我卻不知道那個「什麼」，可以是什麼，只是讓知覺又把我抓回，另一個十五年前的無助瞬間。直至爭吵聲平靜下來，聽著清晨的鳥鳴、眼看失眠正要被曝光，我還是闔不上眼。接下來的一整個月，我都找不到方法去消彌對自己的失望。連去過問，有沒有人受傷的膽試都沒有。 Whenever there are guests in the house, I am always curious if they ever noticed it, that all the doors and door frames in the house are of different colours and materials, because the locks and handles on all doors have been broken for many years... It was broken by our father, when we were young, every time we tried to dodge his beating, we would hide in different rooms, and would still be broken in by him and dragged out to be given a severe lesson. One door after another, one by one broken. The bedroom, toilets, kitchen, until the day when privacy finally becomes a concern of this household, until the day when all the door handles have failed and the door panels can no longer be closed. We finally renewed all the doors at once, about fifteen years ago. When this photo was taken, the doorknob broke again, so a circular hole was left on the door. But the difference is that this time it was hit by my sister and her lover. I have never asked what happened, and I dare not ask. Only late that night, I listened to all kinds of roars, screams, and door knocks coming from downstairs, but I was at a loss, unresponsive and numb lying on my bed. I am angry with myself. I think I should act or do something, but I don’t know what that “something” can be. I just let my consciousness take me back to the moment of hopelessness I faced fifteen years ago. Until the quarrel calmed down, listening to the early morning birdsong, and seeing the insomnia being exposed, I still couldn't close my eyes. For the following month, I couldn't find a way to overcome my disappointment in myself. But I didn't even have the guts to ask if anyone was injured.